I M Perfect lady

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  • I Am Most Grateful For Grace.

    Its Happy Thanksgiving Day, a day to be thankful, a day to be with family, at least that is the tradition.  I will be with my husband and children and our dog, we will travel to meet my husband’s family two hours away.

     

    What does being thankful mean to you?  Are you thankful for what you have or thankful for what you don’t have?

     

    I don’t think you can get ahead of the feelings of gratitude or thankfulness; it is a feeling, an overwhelming overflowing all encompassing knowing of heart, soul and mind.

     

    Saying the proper words, being polite or mindlessly repeating the phrase, “thank you” doesn’t bring on gratitude.

     

    I heard somewhere that gratitude is an attitude.

     

    It also seems we are taught to only be grateful or thankful for the nice things, the good things that happen to us, but we are not shown how to look at the difficult things.

     

    In my experience, discovering the lesson or gift in times of great difficulty, are the things I am most grateful for. 

     

    When you can look at stressful times as potential gift- bringing- times, you will become grateful all the time.

     

    I am grateful for all the wonderful loving, joyful, peaceful times, I am also grateful that I can dip down into the very deep stressful situations and come out with a part of me that lay buried.

     

    I am grateful that something within me is allowing me to experience the darkness and then the awakening into Light.

     

    My journey seems to have two distinct shades and I have been able to witness and experience both sides.  I love that what I thought were the worst of times, was actually the awakening of a whole new me.

     

    So, as I sit here on Thanks Giving Day my plate is heaped with things I am grateful for.

     

    There are certain folks who seem to stand out as I look back, ones I feel most grateful for.

     

    I am most grateful for my husband, for his uncanny ability to allow me to be myself, always.  He patiently allows me to become who I need to be, not who he needs me to be.  His support of me emotionally, physically and spiritually has allowed me to grow up with him.  He gives the same to his children, so he blesses us all in simply allowing us to be ourselves.  Free to be me!  He loved the old me and then was brave enough to let a new me come forth.  He was strong enough to withstand my darkest hours.  It is easy to be with someone in the good times, but in the dark times, it really requires a whole new set of skills.  I am grateful he walked by me.  I love that most; he loved me when I didn’t know who I was.  I love you.

     

    I am grateful for my brother who has listened to me endlessly.  He challenged me by being truthful in his dysfunction as well as challenging me in mine.  His courage and honesty are far beyond most.  I am grateful he shares his life with me, we have taught each other how real relationships work, empty of all pretenses, a brother and a friend.  He of all knows my past story and the walk it takes to walk free, I am grateful I had a partner on this journey well I had two, he and my husband each held a hand.  I love you.

     

    I am grateful for my children and how patient they have been.  How they tried hard to love me when I was so hard on them.  I am beyond grateful to be given the opportunity to develop new relationships with each of them.  I am grateful for the love I feel towards them, the freedom I can allow as they learn about themselves.  I love each and feel that they felt the worst of my dysfunction.  We are on the road of healing and learning a new way to be with each other.  I love you for being patient with me.  I have always loved you, but didn’t know how to express it right.  I am so grateful I can learn to do it right.

     

    Words seem inadequate to describe all the mountains of gratitude I have.

     

    I will be forever grateful for old friends and new.  How they are willing to hear me and see me and will be with me anyway.  As I learn what real friendship means and how each have a season a reason or a lifetime.  I am grateful for friends who shared each part of my journey.

     

    I am grateful for the honesty of my childhood family who can’t accept my changes, how they didn’t pretend to be someone they couldn’t be.

     

    They showed me a thousand examples of dysfunction so clear, I knew which way I had to go. 

     

    I am grateful beyond words that I was one to see the truth in reality, in its harsh landscape I found me.

     

    I am forever grateful for Nature and its brightness how simple it seemed, brilliantly being itself, it showed me how to be me!

     

    There is no part of me that I am not grateful for, no part of my walk I could have not had, all of it, the darkness expressed brilliantly how bad life can be, and the Light, just how bright.

     

    Imagine there are some who only see one side.  I am wealthy beyond measure for I saw both.

     

    I am grateful to have experienced the entire journey called life, the darkness, fear/terror, wretchedness, blindness, pain, suffering, to the Lightness of peace, love and joy. 

     

    The feelings of immense gratitude of not being locked in the darkness forever leave me very humble. 

     

    “There but for the Grace of God go I”

     

    I am most grateful for Grace.

     

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  • All Eyes On The Child’s Wound

    "It is a relationship with the self that is flawed. Parts of the self get literally walled off from them. They can't love them," he says. "They can't even access them." Dr. Drew says speaking of Sex Addictions.

     

    Sex addiction isn't as simple as promiscuity. Dr. Drew defines the disease as an intimacy disorder. People who are addicted to sex may be afraid or unfamiliar with intimacy, so they substitute sex for real human closeness.

    "Sexuality is something that should make you feel good about yourself," Dr. Drew says. "[When you're a sex addict], you've lost control of your sexuality."

    Many sex addicts do have one thing in common. Dr. Drew says 80 to 90 percent suffered trauma as children. "If you have a history of trauma, particularly sexual trauma, in childhood, you want to look very carefully at this behavior," he says.

    In fact, Dr. Drew says these terrorizing experiences can influence who you're drawn to as an adult. "The people and places that cause terror in childhood cause attraction in adulthood," he says. "We end up being repetitively attracted to the same kind of person that obliges us by acting out the same behavior over again."

    This was on the Oprah show yesterday, and I missed seeing it, but read about it on her website, www.oprah.com

     

    And just a few days ago, my junior high math teacher was arrested for child porn. http://www.jsonline.com/news/crime/70303702.html

     

     

    Unless we start to treat the children who are molested correctly, healing the wound in childhood, they will become the addicts of the future.

     

    It is so incredible to me.  We have to stop the cycle at the child, or not be surprised with the outcome of adult children of abuse.

     

    The first question most ask me about my parents, “were they abused?”

     

    Most realize that this is a cycle, that it began in childhood, but we fail to see the child today who is the victim, and that the child needs huge amounts of treatment to undo the abuse.

     

    Sure we must put away the abuser, the one whose life has run amuck since his abuse, but we must stop the problem with the injured child today.

     

    We spend lots of money on the abuser, and nothing on the child.

     

    It seemed backwards then, how the defense team comes in and rescues my father from jail, how the focus is on him.  Yet no one came into rescue the wounded girls.

     

    Most were too old and seen ‘useless’ for the trial, yet we were the most wounded, for we have added to that wound unknowingly.

     

    We are left with a wrecked view of self, unable to access the part of us that lived prior to the abuse.

     

    The outrage we feel towards the molester, may be society’s guilt at not dealing with the child years ago.

     

    Our guilt and shame at ourselves for not facing and healing this wounded one.

     

    As I sit here I know what wasn’t done for me.

     

    How we are left alone flipped upside down and backwards, while most want to pretend we are normal.

     

    There is no normal after that.

     

    It is insanity to think so.

     

    Yet we are fooled and surprised when an adult child of abuse abuses, for that is the only love/attention they have ever known.

     

    Each time we neglect an abused child another abuser is born.

     

    Hurt people, hurt people.

     

    An abused person either lives as a victim or a perp.

    Those are the only two choices.

     

    The third choice must come in, a new way of dealing, healing and owning what is really going on.

     

    It is time we focus all eyes on the child’s wound.

     

  • Nothing Left to Lose!



    ”I know but one freedom and that is the freedom of the mind.”

              Antoine de Saint-Exupery

     

    I bumped into a friend yesterday, and we jumped into an hour-long discussion about how our parent’s behaviors, beliefs and ‘rightness’ sculpted us into a person of their ideals.

     

    The pain of being who they wanted/needed us to be didn’t allow us to explore who we alone would want to be.

     

    Our inner natural abilities, our imaginations, our hopes and dreams were silenced to fulfill theirs.  The deadness inside or the absence of knowing ourselves, keeps us blind of self.  We have no clue what life is without their dialogue narrating it.

     

    Their narration of right and wrong steer us for years, and if we dare deviate, the guilt pushes us away from glancing at a separate self.

     

    As the child grows up silent, the silence turns to resentfulness, and the tied up Spirit grows restless, until we dare to speak our feelings of forever falling short of the mark, theirs and ours, we are stuck.

     

    The pain of not seeing yourself with your own two eyes, to be able to have the freedom to express your self leaves you in a huge hole of despair, and in order to spring free, you have to stop acting in your parents dreams of you, and find your own.

     

    Usually the parent does not accept the ‘rebellion’, we are seen as traitors to their beliefs, that some how we have the power to diminish their beliefs by finding our own.

     

    When your whole life has consisted of seeing the world through their eyes, your own eyes lose their power to discern reality.

     

    Your eyes can only see you from another’s point of view.  We have been trained to act a certain way to escape fearful outcomes.

     

    Either being shunned, to an afterlife of hell, to the rage of God, to the disapproval of our elders, their wrath and scorn, we toe the mark, letting our personal feelings, dreams and hopes detach from out world.

     

    My first and foremost role for 46 years was to not step off the narrow road of approval.

     

    The absence of self goes unnoticed until the folks you have been trying to please shine in their emptiness.

     

    When our mentors or heroes stumble and fall and not even attempt to get up, when we see the truthfulness laid naked, our own self arises.

     

    There seems to be a sliver of a moment, when the truth grows large in its details, which our parents are exposed and their dreams were to fill a lack within themselves.

     

    Our task was to build a façade that they hid behind.

     

    When all you have ever been is a façade builder, you find that you too had a façade that you are giving of your body to make another’s empty container feel full for a moment.

     

    And then, you become the parent, empty and needing of others to fill you up.

     

    To break this cycle takes extreme effort to stand alone and empty without a free and separate thought.

     

    All my thoughts, ALL my thoughts were handed down to me from my parents, and lived within me for 46 years, my eyes were unable to see me, for there was no me to see.  I became the appendage of my parent’s worlds, I had no me! 

     

    You set out in search of yourself, you have no idea who you are, or where to find you.

     

    A missing you is so hard to find, when the only you was connected to others.

    When my world came crashing down, or the façade that I was a builder on, when I seen what I was covering up, I looked around and didn’t see a sign of me anywhere.

     

    It is shocking in its magnitude and the freedom unlimited.

     

    After 46 years of following their construction details, I was able to put down their tools, and walk away.

     

    I was a free Spirit.

     

    Freedoms just another word for nothing left to lose!

     

    “He who does not enjoy solitude will not love freedom.”

               Arthur Schopenhauer

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  • Do you know abnormal?

    Thanksgiving is right around the corner and what comes to mind are all the families gathering, and what seems to happen to those of us who are estranged, we feel somewhat stranger than normal.

     

    While most seem to put aside their petty differences, those of us who have major differences are left without an option.

     

    Family squabbles can be hushed for this special day, a joining of hands and hearts, all gathering to give thanks, “for all that we have and that we are all here together”.

     

    Raising us up to a false sense of okay, allowing us to focus on what was working and letting our differences sit on the sides.

     

    As my mother prayed for us to be together and her thanks in gratitude for what she had, she painted a nice picture, and we all helped her paint with our silence and not challenging her ways.

     

    I heard Elizabeth Lesser speak today about normal families, and how she heard that “normal means someone you don’t know well”.

     

    Normal is the picture of the surface; normal is the front that is shown to those we don’t know that well.

     

    So if you like I seem to feel left out of ‘normal’ there is no normal out there!

     

    Each family has its own squabbles, things that can’t be discussed or mentioned.

     

    Now that I have spoken up in my family and mentioned the unmentionables, I see more "not" normal families.

     

    It gives the matriarch of the family peace as she prays to keep her family together, for her children to get along, that there be peace and love, if only from her dreamlike view.

     

    I have spoken to a few children who are unwilling to break their mothers hearts/dreams by mentioning the unmentionable.

     

    Does silence make a family normal? 

     

    Or is it more normal to be not normal!

     

    Silence allows the unmentionables to go unspoken, unacknowledged, but silence doesn’t make them disappear.

     

    In fact their crimes seem to multiply over the years, the pile growing larger spreading beneath the prayers.

     

    What is normal?  

     

        usual: conforming to the usual standard, type, or custom

    – healthy: physically, mentally, and emotionally health

    – occurring naturally: maintained or occurring in a natural state

     

    How many natural state families are there?  What is the standard we are to adhere to?

     

    I am thinking ‘normal’ is like perfection, it is a pipe dream, a heaven to aspire to, but impossible to attain, and it mostly leaves you feeling left out and inept at being able to pull it off.

     

    I had to look at the opposite of normal, abnormal.

     

    -not normal, average, typical, or usual; deviating from a standard.

     

    I am not sure I have met one family yet that occurred in a natural state.

     

    I have admired the mamma duck waddle with her fuzzy yellow baby ducks wiggling behind her, quickly leading them away from me (danger).  I marveled at the way she intuitively did this.

     

    What happens in human families? 

     

    How do we get so far off course, where danger lives within our homes, where millions of little girls fall victim to abuse by the hands of their fathers, while their mother prays, “Let’s thank God, for all that we have and that we are all together.”

     

    Abnormal to me are families where silence allows unmentionables to be, where we are taught not to mention the unmentionables, to live in a false place called normal.

     

    Abnormal erodes away the normal children, until they too become abnormal.

     

    How confusing this all gets, to strive to reach a natural state of occurring when abuse seemed more natural than real natural? 

     

    What if we didn’t have a normal spot to stand on, or an island of peace, a section of comfort, and a zone where we could sort out the natural from the natural abnormal?

     

    It seems I was given natural unnatural love. 

     

    My unnatural attention hurt, yet I had to tell myself it was for my own good, that I deserved the hollering for mentioning the unmentionables, for not keeping the family balanced in an unbalanced way.

     

    The cross-eyed way we had to look, while trying to pull off natural!

     

    Normal is abnormal or so it seems to me.

     

    Look around and listen to the undercurrents in families, the pretense and ‘don’t go there’ sentences attached to buttons that will implode and expose the ‘normal’ in the abnormal.

     

    Unless you have been raised in a normal abnormal home, in a state where abnormal occurred always, you will not get this whole post.

     

    My normal was abnormal and even trying to get back to normal would be abnormal, for how can someone who was raised abnormal ever be normal again.

     

    Is there a rebirth? 

    Is there a moment where you get to be a virgin to normal?

    Can you tell your natural state when it occurs?

     

    Maybe more important, do you know abnormal?

     

  • My Spirit Experiencing Life Itself!

    Robert Bly also writes, Some old traditions say that no man is adult until he has become opened to the soul and spirit world, and they say that such an opening is done by a wound in the right place, at the right time, in the right company.  A wound allows the spirit or soul to enter.  James Hillman, referring to Hans Castorp in “The Magic Mountain,” and the spot of tuberculosis on Castrop’s lung says, “Through the little hole of his wound, the immense realm of the spirit enters.”

     

    I know this to be true.  It is when you feel so wounded, so forlorn, that you see life from a new angle.

     

    It is was in my darkest moments that I would walk outside, for my grief was more than this house could hold, and I would be overwhelmed by the Spirit of the Universe.

     

    Its immenseness overpowered the weight of the grief.

    In the battle of dark and Light, Light won.

     

    It wasn’t that the grief just magically disappeared, but I had a place to go to feel immense joy, to know my life and its purpose was much larger than I.

     

    It was in the darkest of dark nights, when emotions and feelings overwhelmed me, the feelings of worthlessness, of not mattering, of being so utterly neglected and used, that I found the Spirit in me.

     

    The mightiness of the Spirit and the weight of the wound left me breathless most of the time.  From great heights of joy, love and peace, to the deepness of anxiety and shame/blame and pain, I rode the roller coaster ride of emotions.

     

    To go from unfeeling to feeling so much, it overwhelmed my body, like a tsunami they flowed taking with it all the mind chatter and worry, and all I could do was be with this one moment in time.

     

    Feel this.  Each high wave brought tears either of joy or grief.  Inside of my chest came alive.  I can’t even describe that feeling there. 

     

    It still happens today, a word, a scene in nature, an apple tree bare of all leaves, with just gold apples on display, make me gulp and feel its display, its pureness of being and doing itself.

     

    Reality takes my breath away and feeling feelings and emotions whether they are slight or immense, is my Spirit experiencing life itself!

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  • We see and say, “I M Perfect!”

    This is from the end of “Iron John” by Robert Bly;

     

    A dear friend told me a story.  This man’s father fled the family in shame when the son was five, and the son felt for years shamed himself through this abandonment.  In his twenties the son went to Japan and spent ten years studying the martial arts with a strong mentor.  It was only after learning the art that he was able to return to his own family and take his rightful place there.  To be without a supportive father is for a man an alternative phrase for “to be in shame.”  His support, as the boy’s in our story, came from a substitute father – in his story, a martial mentor, in our story Iron John.  Only when a man’s interior warriors are strong enough can he go into the joy of display.

     

    With this strength he can also enter into the delight of form.  Shapeless clothing, verse that is sloppy, chaotic furnishings; all are linked in secret ways to shame.  The Universe is not ashamed, and delights in form.  The sun rising over the ocean and setting in the ocean, the moon’s lonely shining and hidings, the leaves unfolding and falling are its displays.

     

    Poetry is a form of display.  The poet bird repeats vowels and consonants in order to widen its tail.  Meter and counted syllables make up a peacock tail.  The poem is a dance fro some being in another world. 

     

    The delight of form, then, moves one away from the old duality of hero and enemy, right and wrong, male adversary and female adversary.  When a man or a woman enters ritual space, each takes actions meant to be seen, and the joy of display helps pull energy away that would otherwise be invested in conflict.

     

    This section of the book explained how a boy that didn’t get the support from his father, needs a strong mentor in order for him to ‘display’ himself. 

     

    I take that he is unable to stand tall in his own power.  And that all his energy is then invested in conflict, a struggle to make himself right, he has to make another wrong.

     

    It has to be the same for women.  In picking up a relationship that is broken between my sister and I, I can feel the conflict arising. 

     

    How our energy gets invested in conflict, instead of being invested in self- power.

     

    What I want most is for her to test the truth of my words in her reality.

     

    What I want least is a battle between right and wrong, but somehow that is what seems to happen. I see two wounded girls she may only see one.

     

    What I want most is for us to be able to display ourselves with all our wounds, to stand up and say our truths, for the truth will set you free.

     

    It is the courage to accept, that you find the courage to heal.

     

    We truly need to display our wounded ness in order to display our joy.

     

    Hiding in the darkness we are lost, it is only when we take our darkness into the light, do we find our wholeness there.

     

    As we stand in the Light, displaying our brokenness, we see that our imperfections are perfectly perfect.

     

    We see and say, “I M Perfect.”

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  • I refuse to call it love when I feel fear.

    Don't pretend to be what you are not, don't refuse to be what you are. Nisagradatta Maharaj

     

    This seems so easy, like a very honorable and authentic way to be, and why would you want to do you differently?

     

    “Don’t pretend to be what you are not”.  What does that mean?

     

    To me it means to be what you feel, but what happens if you feel frightened of family, then what.

     

    It is an odd place to be in, where others feel comfortable and at home with family, I am uneasy, and feel shaky inside.

     

    And I have the key to stop the fear, to tame the beast called family.  I lie.

     

    I pretend to be what I am not, and then they will not holler at me, say mean things, and pretend to be happy with me.

     

    Does this make sense to you?

     

    If I pretend to go along with the flow of abuse and abusers, if I just quietly get back in line, they will all recede and go back to a false normal.

     

    I become a false me which allows them to be a false them.

    They can then pretend to be interested in me and I can pretend that I agree with them.

     

    We will be a pretend family, pretending to be comfortable with each other.

     

    How often in the past I pretended to go along, while inside I was in total disagreement?  How often did I toss aside who I was and pretended to agree?  Endlessly.

     

    My mother demanded her way or she would scorn her disproval, and we would get left feeling less than.

     

    I didn’t realize how much her way has influenced me in being a people pleaser and how hard it is to face the scorn and the withdrawal of love.

     

    Perhaps the withdrawal of love hurts more.

     

    I have heard rumors that I have two brothers in town, who came up for hunting, and it feels me with dread to happen upon them.

     

    It seems that life requires me to dip back into the waters of that family time and time again.

     

    “Time heals all wounds” is a downright lie.  The wounds in our relationship between sister and brother or sister and sister don’t heal with time.

     

    They are not healed magically after almost 5 years of absence, and my body and soul don’t forget their last words or their actions, it trembles when we face them yet again.

     

    I wonder about that?  I wonder what that means about me?

    Mostly I wonder if I will always respond to them that way?

     

    Wouldn’t it be worse to not tremble?

     

    Shouldn’t my body respond in kind when facing them?  Is it the correct response to someone bringing bad energy?

    It makes me feel better knowing that my body, reality and my knowing are all in agreement.  These folks are not coming to me bringing kindness and love.

     

    Even though it hurts to know that they want to harm me, it makes me feel better to stand firm with the sensations of my body.

     

    Byron Katie in her book “Loving What Is,” speaks of ‘something in me tends to move away from you’.   It is like we are being steered away and we move in agreement.

     

    This is how I feel, but another part of me is apologetic for being repelled by them.

     

    My body and its warning system haven’t failed me yet.

    I have failed it.

     

    I failed to notice its warning lights.

    I failed to move away, to steer clear of bad energy and I caused my body disease.

     

    Now that I have corrected the readings and adjusted or I am attuned to its perfection, I refuse to be what I am not.

     

    I refuse to call it love when I feel fear.

     

  • Happy Birthday Honey!

    Twenty-two years ago today, I became a mom for the first time. 

     

    You know how it is when you do something for the first time, how you pretty much learn as you go, and if you do it again, you feel more at ease and even improve in some areas, well this little girl had to be the first for everything and I used her to hone my skills, by trial and error.

     

    She is tentative by nature, and it really pushed her out beyond her comfort zone for each accomplishment.  She is much better being able to see the lay of the land, and to test the waters by watching first.

     

    Yet she took a deep breath and jumped in.  The first one to ride a bus, to go to school, to live in a dorm, to drive a car, the list goes on and on.  The rest just followed her lead.

     

    What a great leader she is, for she did what was required and did it well. 

     

    Once she understood that she was the one, that no one could do her life for her, she would do the task at hand, no matter if she felt out of her comfort zone. 

     

    That comfort zone is a place that can trap you and stunt your growth, and even when I knew it shook up her whole insides, I was forever behind her to move to the next level.

     

    It wasn’t that she didn’t know what her next move was, she preferred the next move to come to her, and don’t we all.

     

    I love how she shines with each accomplishment, how she is very diligent with her responsibilities, complaining is not her way.

     

    We have always said that she is so young and innocent at heart, living in the world of wonder and delight.

     

    Growing up or into a world infused with drudgery just doesn’t seem to happen, for her love of games, books, learning, etc keep life playful.

     

    As another year of life completes itself, I wish you another, filled with joy, love and peace.

     

    Thank you for always doing yourself regardless of your fears!

     

    Happy Birthday Honey!

     

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  • One Well Rounded Puppy Life.

    We have a new puppy in our home.  We also have new parents in our home, new trainers etc. 

     

    It is so interesting to see the different ways we all interact with this little puppy.

     

    Two in here baby him, carry him around like he can’t walk, take naps with him, sneak him treats, giggle and laugh as he takes the upper hand misbehaving.

     

    One wrestles on the floor, and almost acts like his species, tugging on socks, and rawhide, rolling around until one becomes tired, and it is usually the human.

     

    My husband has had many dogs, and he seems the most natural with him.  He becomes a little boy again as he playfully teases him and loves to see his tentativeness with new strange noises.  Mostly loves the tail wagging greeting each time he sees him.

     

    A few take him for walks, but underestimate his endurance, or maybe theirs.  He doesn’t feel confident enough to not walk between your legs, bumping into your ankles.  It is a big and unknown world out there.

     

    In the house, they are interrupted as he is forever doing what puppies do. 

     

    No more just lying around.  He is always into something; chewing a shoe, digging in the trash, a book, a magazine, a laptop cord, or doing his duty inside.

     

    Lucky for us we have a relay team and we can pass him on to another person.  Imagine it takes 6 of us to keep up with one of him!

     

    It is fun to watch how each interacts with him, how they slip him treats or think they found what he loves the most.  How he seems to know who he can do what with.

     

    In the mornings, it is just he and I, and at first he thought I would be his playmate, but now he realizes that he and I spend quiet time.  He is lying on my feet as I type. 

     

    I am the one who gets him up early for his morning potty break, I am the one for his breakfast, and we begin quietly.

     

    As soon as one of the ‘spoiling giggling’ girls come by, he misbehaves, biting on their pant legs.  He is no dummy, he knows who he can do what with.

     

    I watch them trying to get him to behave, they quickly learn stern is ok.  That it is up to them to make him stop, he will not on his own.

     

    Puppies do not come filled with all the rules and correct behaviors; it is up to us to set the boundaries, to let him know what is acceptable and what is not. 

     

    It is a huge world for him to learn, a vast amount of things to explore and taste and play with, he is brand new to this planet and to being a dog. 

     

    We keep him safe, we allow him to grow, we build the dog of his dreams, introducing him to things he loves to do, neither of us are sure what those things are, yet.

     

    It seems the kids are torn between having a dog and his chores, of being loved by him and annoyed by him, the two sides jostling around, as he is himself.

     

    He is giving them a view of being responsible for another, for it is one thing to take care of yourself, but a whole new thing to teach another how to treat you.

     

    They are seeing how kindness and spoiling will not beget good behavior.  How treats follow good behavior not proceed.

     

    I love that they get to try their hands at parenting with this little puppy in our home with two more experienced teachers; we are like training wheels as they take a spin into parenthood.

     

    I can see how beneficial it would be to have multi-generations in one home, how a young mother/father could learn from their parents on what to do and how.

     

    We all will bring him a different view of life, from the rough and tumble, to the napping with treats, to just being quiet together, with the six of us he gets it all, one well rounded puppy life!

     

     

  • Let there be Peace in December

    Yesterday on the radio I listened as Ed Bacon and Elizabeth Lesser spoke of the different types of Celebrations, mostly in December.

     

    How December is seen as the dark night of the soul, when the days are so short and the nights long, and so many religions have a Spiritual Celebration in December.

     

    It was very interesting to hear the different ways so many different religions are all celebrating the same thing.

     

    Does it really matter what you call that Celebration Day, what traditions and rituals you use, if we are all focusing on Spirit.

     

    What a great reminder, it isn’t about how we Celebrate the Spirit, but if we do.

     

    They spoke of how Santa is an example of the unlimited Spirit, how it spreads love, joy and peace, how giving is where you will find Spirit.  

     

    They spoke of there being no room for the Birth of Spirit, and how still today we become so busy doing, that we too forget to make room for our own Spirits.

     

    It was an enlightening look at the approaching Celebration Season, and how we should honor all traditions and different cultures as they focus on Spirit.   There is only one spirit but a million ways we can be grateful.

     

    If we let go of all the words that have been placed before the actual meaning, we will all agree, we are all trying to connect with the Spirit within us and to share Its meaning.

     

    I received an email today that said someone is trying to take Christ out of Christmas.

     

    It is like taking the Spirit out of you.  Is that possible? Can you remove the essence of your soul from you?

     

    Is the Spirit a property to be owned by a select few?

    It seems that there are mindsets that believe this, for isn’t that what most fight about.

     

    My way is right, which makes your way wrong.

     

    If we get lost in the way we celebrate, we lose sight of what we are celebrating.

     

    I am not a learned person on all the different traditions, but what I do know is that they are all praising a Higher Power, a Spirit, and a Universe.

     

    Does it matter if what name you call Spirit or what ways you use to connect?

     

    I will look at this December with much different eyes watching how many folks Celebrate.

     

    December is hope, that after the long night of the Soul a Light will appear and that we will find the Gifts in each lesson, how we can use the Spirit as the example of how to give endlessly with love, peace and joy, a reminder to leave room.

     

    Let there be Peace in December.

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