The Dang-ling Art of Giving…

by admin on October 8, 2009

Word for the day: Enthusiasm!


“When we trust ourselves, giving to others fills us up with the gift our giving. It is the same feeling as love—love is always returned by love and free of the need of reciprocity or it is not love…”

Little Warrior



There have been plenty of people who have been there for me in my life. But only a few have been there whose generosity of time, love or Present & Presence has been without Conditions….


(and this, dear friends is the essence of my post… to give without conditions.)


* * * * * *

Would you agree that the general population has a difficult time giving to a cause or person that they do not understand, believe in—or trust?

When we offer some-thing as if it has “cost” us, then we have lost the very thing we are trying to give. We have missed out on the idea/understanding of what it means to-be-generous. The goal of giving is joy for the receiver as well as the giver. It is not what we are imparting to a person or situation that is necessarily significant, but rather how we feel in what we are doing –it is the act of support that matters. The act itself should be effortless and not something we have to contemplate, question or doubt.


When we are the Giver as well as the Gift

then there is no suffering in the giving,

then we are unencumbered and free.


When we do not understand the art of giving, parting with anything, whether it is a birthday gift, a charitable donation or a simple hug, we will feel resistance, thus our efforts in giving will not be sincere.   Whenever we do something that is not honest or natural, our heart pulls us back and we don’t feel good about the gift or kind act we are bestowing on another.  If our intentions do not come from the heart then the question we might ask ourselves is: What is the true nature of giving? Is  there an agenda lurking somewhere? If we can identify our motive, perhaps we won’t have one?


Sometimes we do not understand the true nature of giving until we recognize what it feels like to be on the receiving end of toxic generosity.


Toxic Generosity is when there are a host of attachments from the Giver. Thus both the Giver and the Receiver are hostages in a tangled web and are blocked from giving as well as receiving—there is no flow, and as we all know: Flow is life. There are encumbered rules and regulations and obedience involved when generosity is tainted; there is power over someone and power taken away.


Toxic Generosity is what most people give.


How many of us can honestly say that we would want to help someone, some cause, feed the homeless, give them money to help support their children, invest in their cause, if we could not control them or the situation, if we could not feel powerful over them—if…

How many of us can honestly say that we have the capacity to give for the sake of giving without dangling the gifts over the recipient’s head, making them beg, do hoops of gra-ti-fi-ca-tion and cartwheels of appreciation for a treat?

(I don’t even make my dog do this.)

Do we have to like someone, some cause or some people in order to help them? Is that not passing judgment if we answer yes? How many of us feel that there is corruption in our generosity?

Where are our gifts going?

Who is really getting what we are giving? And so on… How do we know what we are giving is being used for what the intended has said? There is:

· Political corruption in giving.

· Religious corruption in giving.

· Personal or familia corruption in giving.

· Spousal corruption in giving.

(but if there is corruption in our support is it really support?)


There might be deception on the receiving end of giving but there should never be deception of the side of the Giver.


The best part of giving?

To forget that you gave.

The second greatest reward to giving if you remember that you gave?

(To be sure that you tell no one…shhhh.)


In the end, what will matter is how we have given not what we gave.

There were situations in my own life when I too hesitated with some of my Offerings—some of my generosity. There were times in my life when I thought I didn’t have anything to give, but actually the same things I give now I had then, but didn’t see it that way. It is fair to say that how we are raised to love and give is how we love and give, until we can view our world objectively and separate from our original teachings from our family and our environment.


Sometimes I will see someone sitting outside of the supermarket asking for donations,  for a good cause. I always happily give, but sometimes there is that one face (you know what I am talking about) that one face that just looks suspicious and I catch myself smiling as I squish my little bills into the collection box, and quickly look away so he or she does not catch a glimpse of my questioning, judging—assessing face. Why is that? Why is it that sometimes we just can’t help ourselves to be suspicious or make an unwarranted assessment? Whatever the reason, whether it is intuition or just plain old suspicion, sometimes we might be right and sometimes we will be wrong, but whether we are right or wrong has nothing to do with—giving.


What is true liberation as a Giver? When you can see a woman walk up to you sporting a beautiful $6,000 Prada bag, and as she extends her French manicured hand to you, your eye catches her finger that bears a diamond ring the size of a small home and in a flash of awareness you stop yourself from judging. She looks sincerely into your eyes and tells you, (and you are not quite sure if you believe her story or not, but that is not important to you…) that she is hungry and needs to feed her children and you, suddenly-unencumbered-you, see past the surface eye, you see beyond the assessment, judgments,  Prada bag and diamond ring and you say unequivocally and enthusiastically as you take her hand in yours, “sure, sweetie, whatever you need!  Let’s go shopping! It’ll be my pleasure!” Then and only then will you understand the true nature of—giving.


So, when that Clock is about to strike 12 and that noon train is approaching around the bend; the tracks are laden with golden bricks pointing in a Direction and your life is asking you: Decide, Decide, Decide…who are you going to listen to? Your heart or your mind?

(only time will tell…)

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Anam Cara

by admin on September 10, 2009

(a different perspective on what it means to be a soul mate…)

“When the heart weeps for what it has lost,

the spirit laughs for what it has found.”

Anonymous Sufi Aphorism

Q: Why weep at all?

Why not discover what the Spirit found so all can be happy?

While elliptical-ing the hour away at the gym the other day, I came upon an article about a woman who had recently ended a romantic relationship with a man she believed was her ‘soul mate’. The author explained how the relationship was tumultuous and that she and her partner experienced extensive highs and lows. While this romance seemed to be passionate, it was also filled with judgments, incessant fighting, coupled with the on again, off again cycles that challenged relationships endure. Towards the middle of the article, I wondered what the author’s understanding of passion and love actually was. Is the soul really attracted to relationships that hurt? Perhaps there are qualities in people that we are drawn to, whether they are healthy, happy or not. When they are unhealthy, hopefully we recognize how to remove ourselves from them. The experts say that our early childhood conditioning and experiences often determine our perceptions of love and our world. This understanding can be limiting, if we do not allow ourselves the opportunity to see beyond our own interpretations of the world and ourselves.

How and why do we learn to romanticize love?

Why is the aspect of romance in love illusory?

(and so attractive?)

The author’s story mirrored the typical possessive romances that have increasingly become the “attractive norm” in our country today. It didn’t occur to me that what the author had with her partner was necessarily the soulful love that she thought she had found, but rather addictive and unhealthy. My interpretation of the author’s relationship reminded me of a modern-day, Wuthering Heights, with the constant tormenting and possessiveness of Heathcliff and Cathy. Always tearing at each other’s emotions, entangled in loss and eternal heartache.

Love does not = heart-ache…

Love = Happy

(all the time.)

That is why they call it—love…

The author continued to describe how a friend of hers told her what a real soul mate was and how a soul mate is someone who comes into our lives to show us the areas we need to address, reflect on and possibly change. Our soul mates are supposed to be Our Personal Pointers and pivotal individuals to help us grow.

A question we might ask ourselves is: Aren’t we all soul mates to each other? If we rely solely on the opposite sex or a few individuals to mirror us (soul-fully), positively or negatively, then we miss out on the second most important relationship there is: the relationship with humanity. The first, most significant and sustainable relationship we have is ultimately with ourselves.

Perhaps within this model of Soul Mate, we can look at every person that we have a meaningful encounter with as a Soul Friend. Why narrowly limit ourselves to only a few individuals when we can connect with everyone? Even unpleasant relationships give us insight into ourselves; something extra to learn about who others are as well.

* * * * *

Soul mate is not exclusive to our romantic liaisons; the author’s relationship with her partner might have been healthier, more rewarding, had they remained friends, without the attachment of romance. A relationship’s potential can be adversely affected when the idea of romance and sex is introduced. Sometimes sex heightens the closeness between two people, however it can also create an illusion around what love is not. The notion of romance can form a bridge to a deeper meaning within the relationship, yet this is not always the case. When Honest Love is present, sex can be a byproduct or nonexistent as the relationship remains independent of the need for physicality.

With our society being primarily sensory based, we do not always give the necessary time and attention to any relationship, separate from our external objectives. If we gave time to whom we valued, personally and professionally, we would understand immediately that the internal objectives are always where truth and safety resides. (We are protected by truth, even the unpleasantness of what it may reveal.)

The challenge for each individual is to identify for him or herself what it is that they are exactly feeling. When we know how we feel, we understand the higher meaning of the relationship, (if there is one) and allow for each person to be who he or she naturally is, rather than forcing anything. This allowing and freedom also applies in relationships among parents, and siblings.

* * * * *

Romance is a contradiction in that it is illusory and when we let go of that which is not real we see with clarity what passion is in the context of Honest Love. In a sense romance does not disappear, rather it shifts from a fantasy state and evolves into an unconditional one, ever more intense, in the absence of possession. When love is unencumbered we value the Other and we become passionate about Who That Person Is, and not Romanticize about the idea of how we would like them to be. In the presence of Honest Love we discover, naturally, the fragility and stability that love has always been.

* * * * *

If we are here to learn from each other and everyone, how can we not be connected soulfully with everyone?

The word mate could mean ‘friend’, not just life partner or sex partner. Anam Cara in Gaelic means, ‘soul friend’, which I believe is exactly what we are talking about. When we view all of our encounters/relationships from the perspective of the soul, perhaps if there is a departure or shift, in the relationship, we can see into it with insight and understand what we learned rather than what was lost. After all, why do we have to lose anything?

The article led me to think about my relationships, (with everyone) and it also raised a few questions about my Silent Friend, and someone I would call my most ardent Anam Cara. While we are all reflections of each other, soul friends too, loving another unconditionally is rare, but to truly like and enjoy another? That quality gives another meaning to the soul of a true friend. I think Aristotle said it best when describing friendship, but I believe his definition also applies to intimate relationships:

“Friendship is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies.”

* * * * *

We are all soulfully linked to one another, whether we like this or not, it is what makes us human. Our relationships can be explosive, passionate, loving or rote. Our relationships are in their purest state, when the innocence of our true nature is freed. When we are natural (persona-free) in our friendships, there is an undeniable honesty and vulnerability—a purity that Jesus and Buddha always made a significant part of their teachings. One might interpret their messages this way:

The Cluttering begins, when the Child ends.

All relationships mirror our deepest desires, our greatest fears as well as our strengths and weaknesses. To think that we can exclude ourselves from the Ugly that we see in others is our limitation and inability to understand our human frailties. When we can see our intentions and motives with honesty, whether they are self-serving intentions and motives or intentions that will benefit all, then we can take responsibility in how to see ourselves completely and how to be a true soul friend with everyone.

* * * * *

We are all on this planet to learn from one another, the Good, the Bad and sometime even the Scary. The faces may look different, but underlying each individual there is a core, which, if we are open to it, we can connect to that deepest place that resides within all of us—the most sacred anam cara, our Self.

So, when that Clock is about to strike 12 and that noon train is approaching around the bend; the tracks are laden with golden bricks pointing in a Direction and your life is asking you: Decide, Decide, Decide…who are you going to listen to? Your heart or your mind?

(only time will tell…)

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Child-like

by admin on August 29, 2009

James Hillman, author of A Blue Fire and one of today’s most imaginative thinkers, says, “Knowing our fantasy life is to know ourselves profoundly. From that particular kind of self-knowledge that is beyond ego comes a strong sense of destiny. In this sense, imagination provides a solid moral destiny. “

Our relationships thrive on our natural ability  to be creative and intimate.   When we trust ourselves, being intimate with others  is our authentic state.

In the language of fairy tales, what is more truthful and honest than fantasy? It sneaks up on us, and climbs into our minds, whispering truths in a language we don’t usually feel threatened by. Fairy tales reach the most sacred and visceral part of who we are: The Child in all of us, no matter our age. In the land of Fairy Tale, there is a playground of many satisfying fantasies. In understanding ourselves, through fairy tale, we get a glimpse into all aspects of who we are through the villain as well as the hero or heroine. Knowing all the characteristics of our personality—is healthy!

This Child, when comfortable in an adult body, reserves itself for those it feels at ease with—those with whom it trusts. We know intuitively, when we are safe with someone and in that place of security that Child is free to come out and play. Whether this is on a conscious level or subconscious domain depends on how well we know someone, but more importantly, this security is reliant on how well we know and trust ourselves, for we can feel this natural comfort in the presence of a “stranger”. There is a Knowingness to who we can be intimate with and this knowingness is the language of children. They naturally trust and communicate with each other and speak a language that adults know very little about. (They are right. Adults are grown children who have sometimes left the best parts of themselves behind. )

In an intimate relationship between two adults, the Child’s voice is communicated often without words or with few words and say—everything that is needed to be said. Why? In this very childlike way, the individuals are unknowingly speaking the same language. They are flirting with each other’s hearts and they are not always aware of it. The most dangerous and erotic flirtations are those spoken at the level of the Child. When we know ourselves well, we do not hide from this Innocent part of us—our most natural and intimate selves. The adorable child in the adult emerges in the company of familiar and safe grounds, often for a fleeting moment. When the moment is captured, it bears a bounty of gifts.

*    *    *    *    *

When two souls meet at the level of the Child, they expose themselves to the vulnerability and invulnerability of Relationship. Grown-ups keep away from this part of who they are, out of fear. If the little boy or the little girl sneaks out to play for a bit, the adult mind immediately snatches them up, lathering the poor Kid in armor, preparing him or her for a lifetime of battling the child within and the adult.

True intimacy is when couples can communicate with each other, comfortably on all levels—naturally. When our relationships thrive it is because we feel alive with that Child part of who we are; with ourselves and our partner. When we die emotionally or our relationships with our partner’s lose their “spark” it is because we have lost that most trusted and sacred part of ourselves in each other, this is the purest and sexiest us. For some men, sex seems to be their door to intimacy. The act of sex, without Honest Love, prevents them from the closeness they desire most. For women, if they are honest and healthy? They want you to ravage them, while reading their minds! How many men know this about women and how many women will admit this truth about themselves?

(Jesus said that you cannot enter the kingdom of heaven unless you are a child. Remember this the next time you try to enter the kingdom of your spouse or lover… Remember: you shouldn’t have to try…)

What attracts us to that Special Someone, whether we are heterosexual or gay, is the soul of the Child. It knows no sex, it knows how to play, give and be happy! The soul of the Child only knows  how to—love. Cherubs understand this truth. Maybe this is what God really wanted for us all along; simply to share our toys and play nicely with each other and just do what we were meant to do naturally—love…

So, when that Clock is about to strike 12 and that noon train is approaching around the bend; the tracks are laden with golden bricks pointing in a Direction and your life is asking you:  Decide, Decide, Decide…who are you going to listen to?  Your heart or your mind?   (The Child or the Adult?)

(only time will tell…)

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“Some books make us dream,

by admin on August 25, 2009

others bring us face to face with reality, but what matters most to the author is the honesty with which a book is written”
-Paulo Coelho

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Infinite nature,…

by admin on August 13, 2009

which is boundless Spirit, unutterable, not intelligible, outside of all imagination, beyond all essence, unnameable, known only to the heart.

Robert Fludd, History of the Macrocosm

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Betrayal vs. Disillusionment

by admin on August 12, 2009

At a recent gathering with some friends, a discussion began about relationships, marriage and divorce.   The party consisted of about fifteen or so couples and I was the only hinge-less one there.  The topic of conversation should come as no surprise to anyone… especially since I started it!

One truly, openly engaging woman and I talked about love and the contract of marriage.  We discussed how life’s daily trials were sometimes a chore—yet, love should not be.  (For me, the experience of love is effortless.)  When the conversation began to feel more like a debate, I sensed that she did not see love’s simplicity as something remotely realistic and she left me with the impression that love and marriage are work. Is it possible that we perceive love and marriage as work simply because that is what we raised to believe?

She suggested that I had experienced much betrayal in my marriage and while I felt that was true, I began to wonder if it was betrayal that I felt or simply a case of disillusionment or maybe—both.   When we realize that the idea of what we have and believe in is not actually real, that is the betrayal I think that leads to many departures.

The question we must all ask ourselves is:

Is the experience of disillusionment an honest form of betrayal or is what we are feeling/experiencing just the realization of a lie?


Perhaps this is the contradiction.  The revelation of any lie either leads one into more self-deception or it is the guiding path to a healthier life change, even if, in the beginning, that change appears in the form of a crisis.

Once realization occurs the question remains:  Who is the Traitor—our partner or ourselves?

(When it comes to betrayal/disillusionment, perhaps the real Traitor is Self-Deception.)

The woman walked over to pet my daughter’s puppy, Mokie, a beautiful ruby colored, Cavalier, King Charles Spaniel, when she did so, I remarked, “He is effortless.” I gave him a kiss as I passed him over to her.  She affectionately took him from my arms, pet him admiringly and then as she passed him back to me, she pat me on my shoulder, in that-affectionate-and-professorial-kind-of-way, and said, “Effort is good, I am a teacher…” but as she walked away, I grew curious and wondered:  what does teaching anything have to do with the simplicity of love?  Love is the one thing that we do not need to learn and we certainly do not have to be taught how to feel it!  I go to the gym and use effort on the elliptical machine to have more energy and to feel better.  Love is not an effort in mental gymnastics or an exercise of the heart.  No one teaches the heart how to beat…or more importantly—how to feel.

*     *     *     *     *


Question:  Is Love The Only Reality and Can It Sustain Us…Forever?

“There is no reality except the one contained within us.  That is why so many people live such an unreal life.  They take the images outside them for  reality and never allow the world within to assert itself.”
–Hermann Hesse


Sometimes my life feels like I am walking on a tight rope and I am a trapeze artist trying to keep balanced in a world that is round and spinning—(I remind myself that it is a round and spinning world for everyone else too!) I am holding onto the only Reality I know, live and breathe and hoping that the Reality I am clinging to is the right one (!) and that I don’t fall off of my perception of it!

(yeah, I know—you are hanging on to the perception of your Reality as well…but will you admit it?)

Life is surely a balancing act.  Love is not.  It is the only reality that clarifies, dignifies and makes even the daftest of us completely aware of life.   Love is self-contained inside of every one of us, therefore all of the struggles we have are external creations that we have some how had a hand in manifesting.  (The Good, The Bad and The Ugly.) Unconscious choices can have lasting effects and the cause and effects of those choices create our outside world and some times that world can be an ugly place to inhabit.  This is exactly why the internal world of each individual needs to be all sustaining. It is what gives us the necessary strength and sobriety to cope with our external world and to not rely on it solely for our happiness.  We all struggle with exactly what the balance for our life is and obviously it is not the same for everyone.  We might find comfort in worldly possessions and the accoutrements our life has provided us with, but the real source of joy and happiness will always come from within—the Place and Source of all love.

*     *     *     *     *


I don’t have credit cards, shopping sprees, or many “things of the world” per se, but I do take comfort in knowing that those things do not de-fine me.  My life circumstances could be better, will be better some day, but regardless, without all of That Stuff that makes up the Outside World, I have some-thing inside of me that no word or words can do justice for.   We all possess the capability of finding this inward reality that is so Divinely De-fining and once we find it, or better, rediscover it, it will carry us in spite of life’s trials and events.  Once this inward Reality is found, we discover true Alchemy, Reverie, Destiny and Eternity in one tightly woven package called—Alive.

The reality of love and its ability to sustain us is tricky because it is not an attached love or the romantic kind that so many of us cling to.   It is not fiction; rather everything other than this Honest Love is the illusion we must remember is not real. (Challenging but true.)
Every day we can learn what love is not, but we do not have to take a course on what love is.   The tragedy must be for those who exist without truly experiencing love in their life and what it feels like to be living a loveless existence and then one day to die—never having become aware of all they were never aware of—namely, love.

*     *      *     *     *


Think about it:  If you have love in your relationships, you yield to the demands of life’s every day occurrences.  The Horrible seems less so.  The Pleasant seems more so.  When we have not discovered that well of love inside of ourselves and it is absent in our home and with our significant other, every detail and upheaval is exaggerated and throws the entire infrastructure of the family and each relationship off balance.  Babies go flying out of windows (with or without the bath water), houses burn down, the tie around our neck feels like it is suffocating you, us and everyone in our immediate environment.  Without love, our days are filled with incurable anxiety and we watch the nightly news with the anticipation that the next life that will be claimed will undoubtedly be our own; the plane crash will bear our name or someone we care deeply for.  When love dictates the course of our days? The step in our walk feels a little lighter, we are more drawn to news that inspires and enlightens, rather than news that keeps us fearful and riddled with doubt.

And while we might need to take a course on how to navigate our way through our daily trials, we will never have to learn how effortless love is or that it is what truly makes the world go round.  The surprise with the rediscovery of love is its natural ability to remind us that it is some-thing we have had all along.

Managing the mundane trials of every day life challenges our outside world.  When we understand that the day’s stresses and distractions have nothing to do with love, yet everything to do with the lack of it, we can have a clearer glance into what is not working with our life. With awareness, the first step to change, we see that we can make conscious choices and hopefully this awareness will enable us to redirect our path to a happier and more fulfilling existence.

*     *     *     *     *

If we wish to return to the love in our soul, the Persian poet, Attar, says, “you will sacrifice everything.  You will lose what you have considered valuable, but eventually you’ll hear the voice you’ve most wanted to hear saying, Yes. Come in.”

And when we hear that Voice—that Invitation, we realize that the place we are entering is—Home to Every-One.  And that Home, my dear friends, is exactly what makes the world go round and round and round… hang on to that Reality and its perception and enjoy the ride…

So, when that Clock is about to strike 12 and that noon train is approaching around the bend; the tracks are laden with golden bricks pointing in a Direction and your life is asking you:  Decide, Decide, Decide…who are you going to listen to, your heart or your mind?  What will you do?  Tell the Truth or Lie?

(only time will tell…)

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To Y.O.U. …

by admin on August 4, 2009

(with love)

I will always remember words—by…you.

I have been called prophetic and sometimes even poetic(?)

funny.

(and not by you.)

I was called a Stalker…

(funn-ier yet—by who?)

I have been called an  “All-About-Me-Some-Thing-or-Other”
(By—you.)

I have been told that I am a  a great friend;

(and not by you)

a Liar.

(even though you and  I know what is true.)

Some say that I am a great and amazing mother;

(at one time even said by you!)

I have been called, “a poor excuse of a mother”;

(sadly, words spoken by—you.)

I was once told that I was more interesting than Buddha
and all of the saints!

(and not by you!)

don’t wonder–who…

I’ve been called an entrepreneur and a wise woman…

(and not by you.)

(but, what is wise anyway?)

and what do labels mean?

How does one wear a compliment or an insult?

(with—

i-n-d-i-f-f-e-r-e-n-c-e)


And what do I call myself?

A-muse(d).

(and not-by-you.)

but always with a capital “A”.

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The Price of Freedom, Dig-ni-ty &…

by admin on July 23, 2009

Hopping Aboard That Peace Train…

I received a notice from the Welfare department the other day that my children and I qualify for food stamps.   The three-page form did not say much. Nothing was filled out, only a yellow-highlighted area that read, “approved”.  After several attempts at calling the number listed on the form, I finally reached a pleasant woman who instructed me to return to the Welfare Office in downtown, Newark, New Jersey to get my “pink” slip or a stamp that would allow me to move to the next step, which was to go to 50 S. Clinton Street, in East Orange, New Jersey to get my “card”.  (Ironically I actually have “friends” at 50 S. Clinton Street!)

As I hopped on 280 East in the downpour, Tuesday morning, I began to see how this entire Welfare process was beginning to feel like Food Stamp Monopoly!  You have to visit the worse parts of New Jersey before you get to pass “Go” for the supermarket and collect the Goods! I briefly fantasized that I would land on Free Parking and grab a few bags of Double Stuffed Oreo’s for my kids and if I was lucky I would be able to snatch up a gallon of milk in the process!  As my mind veered off into the imaginary real estate world of Parker Brothers, luckily, I did not land on,  “ Chance” for Camden, New Jersey and did not stop off in scenic Irvington to bear witness to a nice homicide on-the-go or heroin fix…   No, instead, I missed my exit and spent the next hour and forty-five minutes getting lost in lovely downtown Newark, as my navigational system decided not to “redirect” me properly and ran out of battery…”  Yes, I am geographically challenged, but how was I supposed to know that Raymond Blvd. changed into a different street and not a very pleasant one at that!  Still I remained positive and rolled down my window and asked some locals for directions, but few spoke English and the one gentleman who was walking with his young son, kindly instructed me, in between rain drops, where Rector Street was: “just keep going straight, it’s down neck, you’ll run into it.”  But I never ran into it, the streets grew desolate and narrower and more and more unappealing.  Needless to say, I eventually drove straight into the turnpike and I really didn’t care the direction I was going in at that point.  I was happy to drive on a road that I recognized.   As I headed for 280 West, I called my thirteen-year-old son to tell him that I would pick him up from camp and then I tried reaching out to his father to see about getting some food for our children.

*     *     *     *     *

I had made my children’s father aware, the previous day, that we needed groceries.   If we need food on Monday and it is already Tuesday evening, how long do we have to wait for that basic need to be satisfied?  And while I appreciated the food card that his sister’s generously sent last Friday (of which he was probably not aware of) there had been no funds for food in two weeks.   The boys were vacationing with their dad’s relatives the previous week and, I, their mother did not need anything to sustain herself while they were gone? That is OK!  However, two weeks is a long time in this part of the country, let alone the world, to have to ration food.   We were so low on everything that the food from the weekend did not last very long.  Stock items get stored away and everything that does not need preparation gets eaten immediately.  When you are feeding 13 and 16 year old boys you run out of food even before you have unpacked the grocery bags!

I emailed the father, I texted the father, I called and left messages for the father.  The father did not call me back. He called our boys, but our boys do not know what they need.   They know that when they go to the cabinets or the refrigerator they want to find what they want and need to eat!  (Those of us who have boys know:  boys are basic: Feed me.) They do not open the refrigerator door and contemplate, “hmmm, I might need some eggs in a few days and maybe some milk to go with those Double Stuff Oreo’s my Mom’s gonna get as soon as she passes Go!” No they are not processing their daily requirements for meals and treats this way!

*     *     *     *     *


I called the father on one of our boy’s phones as I had a better chance of him answering (and isn’t this story and post really unnecessary? Don’t I have better things to do with my time than to write about this nonsense?  That this nonsense even exists to write about is disturbing.  When you live so much adversity on a regular basis, every day becomes a full time job.  The apparent challenge of finding employment in this economy is exhausting on its own, when you do not have your basic needs met or those of your children, the challenge is magnified not to mention–blinding.  It has been this way for 8 years now. Wouldn’t it be so much easier to just get the mother of these children food every week? Without her having to remind anyone that food is a basic need(?!), especially the children’s father? )

I offered (after not hearing from him on my phone) to drive a total of an hour just to pick him up, as he was without a car for a day and  take him food shopping for our growing and hungry boys.  He said that he was out with his sister and cousin for dinner, “Can I get back to you?”  He said, as I heard him put a morsel or two into his mouth.

Can he get back to me?

Was he kidding?  It was after 7:00 p.m. and our son had a camp trip the following morning and I didn’t want to give my boys peanut butter and jam another day, and there was no milk in the refrigerator! I guess when you have just eaten a nice meal, it is difficult, if at all possible to imagine what a hunger pang is, even if it is  your own children who are hungry.  I don’t know many people, especially parents, whom, upon hearing that their offspring might need food, would ask the other parent, “Can this wait till tomorrow?”  What part of “we need food”, does this person not hear?  Are we living in a third world country where tomorrow doesn’t seem that far away?  Do I really sound like, “The Boy Who Cried Wolf?” I have been dealing with this for eight years?  No really, it cannot be that long, but yes, it is!  Eight memorable years of emotional torture, subtle, (and constant) crisp, private and prolific abuse! Always with the remnants seared into the minds of me and my three and the lingering(s) of evidence for only us to see…

*     *     *     *     *

In every unhealthy relationship there is a form of bondage where we are a slave to some aspect of the relationship, perhaps even addicted to it’s suffering.  There are financial shackles as well as emotional, sexual and spiritual ones.  Sometimes suffering is the misinterpretation for love, thus a cycle of abuse is imminent.  My situation mirrors many relationships when a man or a woman leaves an abusive and unhealthy marriage.    Surely the mother of anyone’s children deserves more respect than this!  What was my crime anyway?  That I left him? That I left him because he was Mean? Surely the father of anyone’s children who claims to have loved or loves the children’s mother would want her safe, happy, healthy and his children well fed.  However, our society does not teach this model of love or of marriage.  It teaches possession and that if love is possession, then once the possessed departs (or flees) not only is the love taken away from them, but they are kicked out to the curb and justifiably starved as marital aftermath!

That is love?

Sometimes I wonder if people know the Horror they see around them.  Sometimes those who know the situation on the inside cover up what appears obvious to outsiders.  The horror in the lives of so many, seems to go unrecognized by the masses, or unnoticed by those most close to the situation.  If we look the other way, does the horror disappear? I wonder why we find ourselves surprised when atrocities happen.  We appear shocked at the unexpected, yet predictable events in our lives and the lives of those dear and near to us.   We see.  We are aware, yet we do nothing or we alleviate our guilt by blaming others as we, the Silent Observer excuse ourselves from any responsibility.

Question: Why?
Answer:  because we have our Check Lists!  We have our “facts”!  We have our interpretation!

When we are aware of situations and we see that wrong is being done and don’t do anything about it, isn’t there a crime in that?  We witness the Ugly and turn away and pretend that we do not really see.  Is this not a form of violence? Is this not a type of neglect?  Is the need for power and control not also a form of violence inflicted upon others?

*     *     *     *     *

“If you put a chain around the neck of a slave, the other end fastens around your own.”
Emerson

At some point in every slave’s life there must have been a clarifying moment where some made a choice from accepting the life of slavery to attempting a life at freedom, even if that freedom meant the departure from this world.  (Divorce was my attempt at freedom!)   An African American friend of mine told me the other day, “don’t you remember what a lot of the slaves tried to do when they were being put on those ships? They jumped overboard, because they would rather die than be someone’s slave…”

Disobedience?  Defiance? Could these possibly be places where one chooses the chance of death for the price of their dignity and freedom?

In my own case, I wonder what will go down in the “history book” of my life and the lives of my children.  Whose facts are actually believable and whose truth is actual? In the end it won’t matter.  It won’t matter.  It won’t matter.  Millions and millions of lives have been lost to violence of every kind.  The most damaging and crucifying deaths are the emotional ones where we lose our Spirit, for when we lose our spirit and hope; we have lost our Faith—our faith in humanity and ourselves….  When we lose our faith in humanity we have become foreigners to Who We Truly Are—this is when we participate in the murdering(s) of others as well as jumping off of ships (and bridges) ourselves.


They say that there is a price for everything—especially Freedom.  Yet in the end if we are free?  We die knowing that the price for Freedom is—price-less!

(Every slave no matter our color or gender, knows that subtle, yet profound truth…)


*     *     *     *     *


As I approached the camp where my youngest was waiting for me to pick him up, my exhausted mind settled in Reverie, a safe place filled with a new hope as I heard the strumming sound of a guitar in my mind and I recognized the face of a little curly black haired boy, name Cat Stevens.  He recognized me too!  He whisked me off, taking my hand in his and we sailed on to what I believed was the direction of My Happy Ending!  A clear path, laden with yellow bricks, in between railroad ties, guided us to a perfect rainbow, lacing the bright, cloudless sky.   And little Cat Stevens pointed down the tracks for me to see that, yes(!) the noon train was visible and not far away at all… he sang and he sang and he sang,

“Now, I’ve been happy lately thinking about the good things to come and I believe it could be something good has begun. Oh, I’ve been smiling lately; dreaming about the world as one and I believe it could be, some day it’s going to come.  Cause out on the edge of darkness, there rides a peace train, oh, peace train…”

(… take us all to our Happy Endings…)


So, when that Clock is about to strike 12 and that noon train is approaching around the bend; the tracks are laden with golden bricks pointing in a Direction and your life is asking you:  Decide, Decide, Decide…who are you going to listen to, your heart or your mind?  What will you do?  Tell the Truth or Lie?


(only time will tell…)


We will get our Happy Ending, just you wait and see!

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The Dignity of Chocolate vs. Hallway Sex…

by admin on July 12, 2009

(and the ecstasy of having both with Honest Love)

I had a conversation with a gentleman recently about the complexities of marriage and the difference between men and women with regard to sex.  He insisted that sex and the desire for sex for a man is more a physical need and functioning of the body than anything emotionally binding.  I have heard this story from many men over the years and I wonder if they think that this belief suggests that they are more virile and in some way keeps women submissive.  Is this theory a way for these men to fantasize that they are the stronger sex or the more sexual sex?  Might I suggest that men with this mentality are sorely mistaken.  With this biased perspective these men just sound silly and naïve.  Sometimes couples are simply mismatched.  When relationships experience the Tired Yawn Syndrome, this might be a lack of interest and not a case of an ailing or tired libido.  When theories imply that the libido kind of falls asleep after a certain age, how are the experts so sure? Libidos thrive when the right heart and mind of two individuals happily and effortlessly unite—no matter their age.

People have sex for a variety of reasons and needs.  Certainly there are individuals with medical issues, but there are also very healthy men and women out there who are having sex with partners out of “obligation”, habit or some other questionable arrangement, whether their libido is active or passive.  (I wonder what Joel Olsteen would think about passive or obligatory sex…  I imagine his adorable, southern drawl as he looks into the camera and his audience, and says,  “I’ll let God be the judge of that…” And his finger would point towards the cameras as he tilts his head slightly in the direction of his millions of admirers, his beautiful blue/green eyes twinkling as the audience clamors for more of his wise words, holding up their bibles, praising the lord for salvation!)

For me, that would be a fair answer, but why judge at all?  Maybe God doesn’t care what we do with our bodies or whom we have sex with!   For me, this inquiry about sex and chocolate is merely observation—a contemplation about what is important to us as human beings, i.e. chocolate, Hallways Sex or something more?

The gentleman tirelessly attempted to convey to me that sex is more of a need for men than women. (I remained poised and quiet and nodded my scalding head as my imagination took reign and my mind watched him toss an entire burial ground over his head as his language grew more inaudible, until his face and words were completely blurred and covered in dirt.)   He implied that men can have sex without any attachment, and that they were more emotional over a golf match.  As he continued to bury himself further, he said, “You know, even if you hate your partner, you can still have Hallway Sex with them.”  At that point I asked him if he needed any assistance in placing his remains in the grave he had no problem digging on his own.  Before burying himself completely,  I curiously asked, “Hallway Sex?”  I inquired as to what he meant, although it doesn’t take a genius to imagine the visuals… He continued to explain how you can meet your partner/housemate midway in the hallway and even though you can’t stand each other you can still have sex with them in the corridor and then go your separate way. (I suggested that that might be yet another form of prostitution but that I would have to contemplate the subject matter further and get back to him…) I then asked how you would divide assets in a divorce with a relationship that sounded more like a compromising of souls and body parts as compensation—and who was the pimp in this arrangement?

*     *     *     *     *

The day closed with my single parent mind reeling about sex, love and My Happy Ending!  While lying in bed, contemplating my Aloneness, I imagined what life would be like with chocolate and the right (!) Someone!  Before turning out my lights I looked to my left and glanced to my right and thought:  No man there, at least, not a touchable one!  A man.  Hmmmm.  If there could be a man to my right or to my left, he would have to be a Some One Special.  He would have to be someone I would want to have wild, passionate, Hallway Sex with and then still want to share a meal with afterwords!  He would have to be someone that I could stand listening to and know that he could stand listening to me—effortlessly. If I am ever to share-any-side-of –my- bed- again with a man, he will have to be funny, cuz I sure could use a good, long, laugh to sustain me for the rest of my life!

(Remember: laughing is as effortless as love!)

And what if there shall be no man to my right or to my left to share my bed with again some day?  Well then, a nice, yummy piece of dark of chocolate would most definitely suffice.  Chocolate makes most of us smile, even if no one sees us.  Chocolate makes us feel loved, even if it is the wrong kind of love!  Depending on the piece of chocolate, quality and texture, if eaten properly, the savoring of a piece of chocolate lasts longer than most orgasms. (Something to consider!) Chocolate, when respected can actually heighten our awareness and experience of life!  When I realized that my “housemate” did not love me, and that love and intimacy needed to partner with the sexual act, having “hallway sex” was not an option worth considering for me, yet chocolate was!  Where would the dignity be in Hallway Sex without love?  If we are in loveless relationships, how, as adults do we compromise our bodies and souls so recklessly? Yes, we can rationalize our sexual encounters as well as all of our life experiences.  I wonder though:  If we are this unconscious and careless with our bodies, where is our integrity?  How can we be concerned with what our children are doing if we are doing the same? Aren’t we consciously and subconsciously teaching them the lessons with our actions? Why not pause before we have sex the next time with the Wrong Some One and just go and grab a nice piece of dark chocolate, instead of a loveless, tasteless, sexual encounter. Chocolate is dignified and so sensual. And with chocolate there is always a sense of oneness and love—for me anyway.

*     *     *     *     *     *



Sex without intimacy seems to be the norm today.  Intimacy is scary—there can be no hiding when you are intimate with someone and sex without intimacy is easier, except when it is over. (When it is over, we all know how the Demons surface.) Have we, as a society forgotten how to communicate and feel and differentiate between what is real and honest passion for someone, over what is just a primitive self-depreciating act?  What does sex have to do with intimacy anyway?  Sex is yet another habit and one of countless modern-day addictions and function of the body, but when you have sex with love? Ah, now, that is the soul bear naked–not the body. Soulful sex is intimacy.

*     *    *     *     *

So how do we not lose interest in the internal aspects of the relationships that are supposed to sustain us throughout our lives? The internal—the soul-loving aspects of any marriage or significant relationship must be present before any physical acts take place.  If it is not, perhaps this lacking soulful presence is what leads to many Hallway Sex partnerships!

Perhaps many of us shut down our emotional, spiritual and sexual worlds at some point between childhood and grown-up-hood.  We close the door to that beautiful world we call Our Selves, where intimacy and integrity originate.  We lose sight of who we are when we are still too young to know which doors we are closing.  If this is so, it is obvious why so many people cling to relationships that are not internally sustainable; relationships that remain on the outside, sexually as well as spiritually.  It seems that the external world is the only world that many rely on.  It is yet another form of grazing. We graze the spirit and we graze the body of another, when we have soul-less sex, but do we ever touch the soul of another, let alone our own?

If we pay attention and pause before our next senseless, sexual encounter, we might notice that there is an open door in all of our lives; a sustainable door that allows us to pass through and change the course of our lives.    Something happens to many of us when we reach a certain age.  An age of comfortable discomfort and we forget that that door to Our Life is still open.  Opportunities are missed and the door closes or goes unrecognized.  Sometimes we forget that we have choices.  We become numb to ourselves.   We function, but we do not feel and the slow pill of misery settles in the bellies of so many of us, thus leading to Hallway Sex and we forget that we can still find happiness if we just keep walking down the Corridor of Our Life, switch on the light and see, really take notice of which act we wish to take part in.  If there is no visible love waiting for us when we turn  the lights on, we can choose to keep on walking.  When we turn right and take the stairs, eventually we will find our way out into the world, where the opportunity for love and joy awaits us all.

*     *     *     *     *     *


Laughter and Honest Love, coupled with sex is effortless, and fills our bellies and our souls in ways that nothing else can—other than chocolate.  When we discover unconditional love, we are uncontrollably drawn to it.  Why?  Because Honest Love is our homing instinct.  Nothing makes more sense in this world than when we understand the direction of our way Home—every aspect of our life becomes clear and we never return to our former sate of not Knowing.  With this Knowing, often we find ourselves in love and having sex with the right Some One.

With this kind of love, we can have our cake (sex) and chocolate too!

So, when that Clock is about to strike 12 and that noon train is approaching around the bend; the tracks are laden with golden bricks pointing in a Direction and your life is asking you:  Decide, Decide, Decide…who are you going to listen to, your heart or your mind?  What will you do?  Tell the truth or lie? Have Hallway Sex—or chocolate? Or the ecstasy of having both with Honest Love!)

(only time will tell…and I will and I will and I will…get My Happy Ending, just you wait and see!)

For all you chocolate lovers out there!  Try the below links for some romantic, chocolate  decadence!
http://www.thechocolatenation.com. Try Alice’s Tea Cup for some of Tom and Sally’s Chocolate Body Paint for when you meet that Special Someone mid way in the corridor!
http://alicesteacup.com/

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The Illusions of Adversity & The Reality of The True Cinderella Story…

by admin on July 3, 2009

Questions for the day:  Will your foot fit into The Glass Slipper?  A shiny pair of Red Shoes? Will your Knight in Shining Armor–find you?

(only time will tell…)

My boys and I were down at the Department of Citizen Services or better known to the Regulars as, Welfare, this past Monday morning at 7:10.  As we walked the aromatic, Newark, New Jersey streets, my youngest son, said under his breath and looking down to the ground, “we shouldn’t have worn anything remotely nice down here, Mom…” and as I glanced at our attire and said, surprised and nervously laughing, “we have jeans on and shorts! What is remotely nice about that?” And as he looked at his surroundings, he said, “yeah, but we still stand out.”  The Newark streets were not as picturesque as our home town, nor as clean and maybe we were the only white folks around and no one seemed fashion forward, but so what.  I was never one to notice color before, so I didn’t see the point in giving it any attention now.  Besides, when you are the minority color, you blend in more. You blend in because you mirror others and they mirror you.  Discrimination is the unnatural state, not the differentiation between black or white, or the colors of the rainbow… In other words:  to think you stand out, separates. To feel you belong, unites.   As far as I was concerned, we were all the same color and we all had bellies to fill…

The line spanned a half a block and the doors hadn’t even opened yet.  I thought how it would have been nicer if we were standing outside, waiting on line to purchase tickets to our favorite Broadway Show or concert, but the tickets we were on line for were potentially to feed our bellies.  As we patiently waited outside for the queue to move, I noticed that most everyone had tattoos except my boys and I—manicures and pedicures, except my boys and I.  (I always fantasized about getting a tattoo, but being a writer I have far too much to say for just one.)

(I imagined my body, colorfully inked from head to toe, shouting my every message and cause to the world.  I secretly feared that my flesh would run out of space and: whatever would I do if I could not finish my body’s Tidings with colorful tattoos? So I have opted to keep my person clean and white and leave my messages to the black-ink-on-paper-tattoos—my Other Flesh.)

As we sat in the waiting room watching Cinderella on the overhead T.V., I wondered why there wasn’t some educational program on either employment tactics or health and diet issues, since most everyone in the room looked like they could use a few tips here and there! I was going to stand up and offer my recommendations on all the benefits of apple cider vinegar and omega three’s, cooking organic, positive thinking and exercise—but after scanning the room a few times, I thought it best that I keep my thoughts and opinions to myself (a tactic I do not practice enough).   Then my mind trailed off imagining all the wonderful goals I would accomplish if I was running the Welfare Show:  I would implement tools and ideas to help individuals and families enhance their lives, follow in the course of their dreams, encourage positive action—rather than keep them stuck in these unfortunate situations, by not educating and guiding them appropriately and consistently.   But things down there at the Welfare office are not that black and white or that simple.   In order for any system to be beneficial, a few things must happen:  one must understand the necessary steps to get out of their situation; motivation and inspiration are vital in any pursuit of survival; some kind of physical support, kindness and love also contributes to the sustenance of life.  While one might be able to crawl to the gutter alone and pull themselves up to the curb, hauling your butt past the curb and onto a decent civilization in any respectful, dignified manner is a whole other story and one most likely you will not be able to facilitate alone, especially while carrying a few offspring.

While sitting, waiting, contemplating and taking in our current environment, I asked myself some serious questions:  How did I get here?  I should be employed and doing “more”, that is, after all the American way—don’t stop till you’re dead, then meditate all you want!  The answer to that question is a resounding, unequivocal yes.  Yes, I should be employed.  Then I thought again on the past eight years, my employment history; single parenting; the salaries I am qualified to command; the emotional, spiritual and physical needs of my children and the overall cost of living.  The child support has not changed in eight years, yet the cost of living has drastically.   The reality of how I ended up there, at the Welfare office is a Reality I could easily understand.

Over the years (and it is many years now) I have always worked and generated income. I have always worn many Hats and had a variety of salaries.  There have been gaps in employment, but understandably so.  When you are a single parent and there is no real financial support (or limited financial support) and no physical support, family, etc… coupled with the constant emotional beatings and harassment from your ex-What-Ever, you, as the custodial parent are left with several jobs and not all of them can be done well.  (There just isn’t enough time in the day.) I chose to parent well and for that choice, I have paid greatly by society and both sides of the families.  My ex-Some-Thing-Or-Other’s family has complained for years, insisting that I am not pulling my “share” and that the need for two incomes is apparent for families today and that is obvious.  However, my income over the years never amounted to more than the minimum for any basic need, let alone for any need I, the mother of these children might have to sustain myself.   Question:  Do I not matter too?  How many ways can you divide 10-15 dollars an hour among four individuals after taxes?  I do not stand alone in this financial dilemma, depending on where you live in this country and the cost of living, there are plenty of families struggling and the more dyer one’s situation becomes, the more unlikely their chances of surviving are.  While adversity might lend pointers to What You Are Really Made Of, it can also lead to your demise.

The Relativity of Currency

I have earned anywhere from minimum wage to $9,000 for a day’s work, way back when I was in the advertising industry and the cost of living was less.  Our earning capacity is relative to our job timing and current situation and skill set.  While Einstein believed that time was relative, so is the value of the dollar.  My time as an employee, self-employed or mother-on-the-go, right now, generates random incomes due to the fact that my children are my first priority and while that job often goes unrecognized and uncompensated—it is still a job.   So while I scout for part-time work to help support my children, at the end of each day, I parent integrated and balanced teenagers who feel unconditionally loved.  I am learning that that love does not count with our society and my role, as their mother surely has no significance to my children’s father or his family or maybe even mine, but it does have great value to three very important human beings in my life, and that is what i remember at the end of each triumphant day.

*     *     *     *     *     *

My boys and I waited for over two and a half hours to be seen by our case manager. We were also the only ones watching, Cinderella on the overhead T.V.  It amused me how, in such a desperate place, some of my favorite Disney characters came into my world, color-full, bright, alive and filled with unimaginable and inexhaustible—hope.  Somehow, as children, we believe, without doubt that like all good fairy tales, our life will too have a happy ending and we are reminded of the power in believing.   Just when my name was called by a caseworker, Cinderella was being whisked off to Happily Ever After with her prince and the credits rolled and the song sang and we remember, we imagine and we believe…

“A dream is a wish your heart makes, when you’re fast asleep.  In dreams you lose your heartaches.  Whatever you wish for, you keep.  Have faith in your dreams and someday your rainbow will come smiling thru.  No matter how your heart is grieving, if you keep on believing, the dream that you wish will come true…”

(Even at the Welfare office!)

After what seemed like a legal interrogation on why I was there at this Place of Last Resort, my boys and I left the Department of Citizen Services, holding hands and racing down the stairs, excited to get back to Our World and our pooch, Baloo.  As we left the building, I turned and looked to my right and I looked to my left and then to the sky and while the day might have been just beginning for some, to me, it was already a long day closing.  It was hot and muggy with plenty of dark, stormy clouds in the sky, (it has rained most of June) still I could see the remnants of a Rainbow shining through and I could feel a Moondance about to happen.   I paused and took a long, contemplative look at the streets of downtown Newark, New Jersey.  Sighing, suddenly my surroundings took on an entirely new perspective.  For a moment I could hear the sound of a piano humming the blues away in my mind and an acoustic guitar weaving notes in between the unmistakable and unforgettable voice of little boy from Northern Ireland, who too believed that dreams come true.  I closed off the external noise of the streets of downtown, Newark, while Van Morrison took my hand in his and serenaded my troubles away with, “It’s a ma-va-lous night for a moondance, with the stars up above in your eyes, a fantabulous night to make romance…” and my boys and I raced to our car (and it was still where I parked it!) I heard, Mr. Morrison again, reminding me just like a Disney tale, “there and then all my dreams will come true…” and I thought, as I opened the door to my bright, electric blue, Chevy, HHR, that is for sale, “yes, yes, yes,(!) this is just one of  the many Stops on the Way to making the dreams of my children’s and mine, come true.

(We will get Our Happy Ending, just you wait and see…!)

So, when that Clock is about to strike 12 and that noon train is approaching around the bend; the tracks are laden with golden bricks pointing in a Direction and your life is asking you:  Decide, Decide, Decide…who are you going to listen to?  Your heart or your mind?   What will you do?  Tell the Truth or Lie?

(only time will tell…)

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