Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts

Thursday, October 28, 2010

Eat Pray Love

A night with my daughter led to diving into the movie Eat, Pray, Love starring Julia Roberts. I have been waiting to see this movie - attracted mainly by the title itself and ofcourse knowing Roberts will always deliver a worth seeing performance.

Verdict? It was enjoyable with a couple thought provoking moments. Honestly, I waited for "the moment" to happen. I felt a glimpse of what it would be like to be in Italy, the architecture, the food, the language, and the people. A travelogue with a few intimate flings to spice up the "find myself" journey. My favorite part is just the dreaming of being on the trip she was taking. Maybe that was the point. From the point of being numb and unexcited about life to exploring and expanding personal limitations to spark the life back into the day. I can understand that. I can appreciate that. But honestly, I expected more. Will watch it again. Just because I did expect more and feel jilted.

So, as for my life. I am confident with the day if I have faced it with a hint of passion. The days that scare me is when I see the end and all the in between is just that "grey filler" that means nothing because it will end when I end.

I went to the library yesterday and browsed the poetry anthologies for something that would jump out and awaken something in me. Taking out aged hard covered Elliot, crisp Atwood, and colorful names I had never heard of. Then, there she was, Anne Sexton Complete Poems. I had heard the name and wanted to explore more women authors. How did they handle their crazy. I continued the evening being a taxi and waiting in my little black bucket of bolts reading the introduction to Sexton's work. A history of a troubled sucidal woman who dared to spill her confessionals during a time when women's secrets were just that - secret. A natural flowing string of words devulging her love affair with death - specifically her own death. The scary realization is I relate to so much of her life and why she writes. She wrote to survive, to live, to stop from wanting to kill herself. I don't relate to the woman who walked with a barbie doll presence or the middle class view on the world. I relate to the loneliness and death that seemed to consume her days and led to her eventual suicide. I have walked with this cloud over me and survived with scars from my own attempts to escape my chaotic mind. But I did come out from that storm. I struggle each day to keep from drowning in my own mind. So I write.

Eat, Pray, Love....I guess that is a good start. I like the title. A morning cup of coffee, a plate of breakfast 'something', and cigarette while being an observer from my kitchen window. I may not have Paris today but I smiled. I smiled because I still feed. I still crave for candy apples and flavored coffee. I still yearn for the knowing only spiritual awareness can provide. I still can shed a 'real' tear when a child cries. I can still dream of being loved and sharing love. Yes. That's a good start for the day.
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Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Being a Grandmother

I now have grandchildren. I was sixteen when I had my first child and was thirty three when I had my first grandchild. At both times I was afraid. I had a childhood with little adult direction. Most adults back then were lost and in pain. The children were like a gang family on the street at night when the parents passed out from the weekday party. I remember sitting on a step with some girls around my age, 7 or 8, and their siblings. We sat watching the falling stars and enjoyed the stillness - quiet - of the night. We laughed and held our little sisters and brothers while they slept. The sun would come up and uncover the reality of our world.

There is no bitterness or hate toward the adults back then. I did carry alot of shame for what I could not prevent and protection I could not provide for my siblings or even my mother. All I knew was it would be different and the pain would stop with me.

Becoming a mother changed something in me. My mind would revisit the city condemned white house I lived in as a child. I wanted the world to be different for my daughter. I knew enough to realize I had to be different. In some cases I see now I might have been a bit over protective and could have been more selective with my friends. Yet, it is that world that kept me safe when I needed. I stepped away and it wasn't easy. I left behind my friends and the life that sheltered all our pain. As semi-adults we now had families and had to grow up. I had to face the world without the crutch of drugs or alcohol. The bits of memory that had been locked away slowly began to seep into my day. Being a mother wasn't the challenge. Learning to be human with emotion was.

When my first grandchild was born I cried. It was amazing to watch as my baby brought to the world a little human. They both struggled for so long to meet each other. My world would forever be changed in this next season of my life journey. He had the right ammount of fingers and toes. His cry awakened something I couldn't recognize but it felt right. My daughter with her beautiful and forgiving heart was still scrambliing in her life to find her place. Her decisions were not based on her role as a mother but as a teenager. In my heart I believed it was my responsibility to step in where where the mother could not be. We battled back and forth fighting for who could care for him better. He cried and watched as we battled. Finally one day, a woman told me the story about the two women who fought over a baby and a king said to them he would solve it by cutting the baby in two so they could share. One woman said the other could have the baby because she did not want to see the baby hurt. The king gave her the baby. I understood. I stepped back with an aching heart and let my daughter keep my son in the chaos she was living. Within weeks she called and committed to letting me keep her son, my grandson. He has been with me since. I am close with my daughter and she has three more children.

In our traditional beliefs the grandmother plays an important role in the lives of the children. My children rarely had their grandmother in their lives. Just like I rarely had her in mine. So it was new to me but natural for them. I am a mother, grandmother, and woman. What a life I have been given. A clump of coal to diamonds story.

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

Who cares?

I can see why there are so many people who are just plain tired of hearing the hard luck stories. In a short time I will no longer be on this earth. I will be dust and all my struggles now just doesn't or won't make sense. I am a spec on a spec that only my family will remember for a couple generations. I can only hope that what I am doing in my life now will help make the world a better place for my children and grandchildren, enough for them to pass it on to their children and grandchildren. A mother's love is insane. Why is it we live our day to ensure the life of a little one yet to be born is safe? The insanity is when we forget to live today with out children before time steals the moments away and the children are adults.

I am clammering at the sides of the bucket trying to get a grasp to get me out of this before my life is done. Live. LIve LIve LIve LIve LIve. damn it . Live

Sunday, October 12, 2008

My Son Has A Job

Well he did it. It is the feat that has challenged everyone of us in the family - finding employment. It took two years but his resumes finally landed him a job for afterschool and weekends. I worry that it may effect his already stressed time for class assigments but I know he also "needs" things I can't get him right now. Never mind the list of wants. I hate the fact that I couldn't provide for him like his friends' parents. The positive is he will learn to find his own way in this world. Hopefully without the bitterness that the obvious inequalities of opportunity can create. He knows he will have to work hard and appreciate the bits that he recieves. Back to the interview, it went well and now he will be going in for training on Tuesday. He will be a cook in a nice little restaurant. It all works out in time. A couple years ago he said he was interested in becoming a chef. He is so excited. He is already making plans for his first pay cheque. That makes me smile. The first on his list is a sweater and supper with the family. I love my son. Even though he can sure be a challenge sometimes I love everything about him.

The reality of living with limited means tends to surface during tense situations. I had a few words with my son today. Is the time we have together worth spending even a second in anger? I know it bothers us that we "don't have" and we are just making it with very little. The stress of this can tear families apart. The main goal is to ensure these times do not fester into the following days. We are not a perfect family but anger is sure felt ten fold especially in the mist of hard times. He is downstairs right now kicking around a ball. A bit of a tense cloud above our home. Fits in perfect considering it is on the verge of the first snow of the season. Cold and raining grey day. Yet, it still seems like 'all is good and the way it should be'.
I think we all try to hard when comparing to the outside world. The Hollywood or even cartoon portrayals of family life influence the young minds and build unreal expectations. Having a dream is one thing but attempting to recreate fictional characters from a world where sickness finds miraculous cures or everyone has a job with pay enough for the bills, is just plain cruel. Happiness becomes based on something or someone 'not real'. For instance, the two parent family is the ideal in any scenario. Or having a family vacation is not unreasonable. But when those are not present and seem to the simplest in the 'dream', the bigger dream becomes less likely. My daughter wanted to study to be a pediatrician. She experienced the hardships and realizes it is possible but has let it slip even farther from her grasp because of the hardships. I wanted to be a published author. I let that dream sit for so many years that I feel it is farther and farther from reach. For my son, it has been over a year now since he has seen or spoken to his father. There is nothing I can do as a mother that will replace what is needed from a father. (I read back on this ramble and hope that it all makes some sense). Happiness an empty word and over used word until it is shared. I watched a very thought provoking movie a week or so ago...Into the Wild or something. A few words that stuck to me were, 'happiness is not real unless shared'. Wow. Simplicity. Yet, for some, a piece of knowledge that takes a lifetime to acquire.
Thanksgiving day tomorrow. We have the turkey and not much fixings but we are all just happy to have the family to share it with.I can't wait until the aroma of turkey and cake fill our home and we can sit together for another time. That is what it is all about. I have my family. And 'no' the second wasted on anger was not worth the minutes wasted dwelling. Food. I'll make my son something as a teaser for tomorrow's feast or a celebration for his new job. He has a kind heart and strong mind. High Fives all around to anyone and everyone starting a new job this week or any week for that matter!


Peace and HumanKindness

Thursday, September 25, 2008

change the world one potato at a time

A very long day. Well, with a limp and a crutch I have been welcomed back to sort those spuds. They even set up a stool for me to rest on while I sort. I couldn't stay home. The money to be earned is needed and helping to make some ends meet.

There are huge storage buildings waiting to be filled and inspected by prospective buyers. Along the sidelines are the unwanted potatoes that will quickly find their way to the garbage. I continue in obedience, throwing small perfect roasting potatoes into a pile mixed with rotten and green spuds. I know even my family would love to have mashed, baked, fried, or boiled. I didn't say a word in protest. I did inquire about the potatoes and sent a quiet complaint of how it is such a waste when there are so many hungry people that could surely make use of the odd sized and unwanted vegetable. Poverty. Environment. Industry. Health. It is amazing how we will ignore the issues when we are in need. The immediate problems of putting food on the table and keeping the power on in the home always seems to be priority. How can the impoverished be proactive in addressing issues of environmental urgency or resource waste, when the thought of their child's empty stomach during school is the only motivator for the day? I care about the environment, the Earth. I care about those that have lived without and need a helping hand. I care. Period. But for today, I have to care about my family. There is no one in this world that has stepped forward to say "I care about your family". So it is up to me.

For now all i can do is send those positive vibes with each potato...peace and humankindness. Changing the world one potato at a time. Smile no matter what. Just for the hell of it.

Sunday, September 14, 2008

Spirit Message

If you have wandered into this site, "welcome". I don't advertise or roam to much to grab attention. But when the attention does come so does the interesting questions and relationships.

I was just reminded of a reemerging message to everyone, us; no particular color, religion, or political stand needed, just an ability to listen. Those who 'know' will understand. There is a time when using what we 'know' will be the most important guide for survival. A spiritual war that began with a division of tribes that occurred during ancient times. During a time when the mysteries of today were not hidden but common knowledge and practice for everyone. The generations of distorted versions of history have attempted to erase all memory or knowledge of these times. A duty that has been passed down to ensure that the unfolding of goals emerge. These goals or ambitions are not in the best interest of those who cherish their freedom. A reawakening of genetic memory that will give rise to the knowledge that will reconnect our existence with our original ancestors for the sake of our survival. This is not a string of words open for debate. If you know then it will make sense. If you don't it is not my responsibility to convince you.

All is good and the way it should be.

Saturday, July 12, 2008

Hunger

Well we're doing it again. A few of us crazy women are putting together a plan just to ensure families like ours are fed and taken care of. We understand there are issues that are bigger than us and want to help but when you are caught in that pit of nothing your strength is only used to breathe-make it another day for the kids. Can't save the world but we can help each other help others, and so on. Poverty. Reality.

During a four day fast before a sundance ceremony I understood hunger at a different level. The hunger of the spirit. No food or water for four days was the best medicine to humble a being caught in this world. With a dry mouth I tasted the earth wind and the sage smudge smoke. I heard the songs of the earth and felt our relations heartbeats travel thoughout my body. I felt myself melting into every part of creation. And on the fourth day, that first drop of water from a buffalo horn was held in my mouth with such appreciation. I carry that with me to remember why I am here. Every day has held miracles and I have asked the Creator many times to help the people, the nations, open their eyes to them. Where ever one chooses to pray or search, in church buildings, sweatlodges, temples etc that doesn't matter. It only matters that the energy, prayer, thoughts need to reunite to build the strength of the being, to reconnect with the rest of creation. The world is filled with others who 'know'. Every nation, race, culture whatever has one or many of 'those that know'. We are just afraid to believe. When we take the time to listen answers to our troubles are revealed.

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Thursday, July 3, 2008

Time is Calling us

the best way to figure out todays problems is to turn in your seat...looking back. As a spectator looking back at history we have little to lose and we avoid the direct pain and suffering that the humans of the time endured. What does that mean? How can we understand without feeling the pain? to feel the pain helps us to appreciate the healing. i would n't want to go back to the days when children were ripped from the arms of mothers and slammed against rocks for the shock effect - control. all i need to know is that i am alive today because someone back then continued to survive. I have the knowledge and freedom to live with the teachings of my ancestors because someone lived/died to ensure the gift would be mine. the grandmothers that hovered over the children. the men who held the woman's word close to their heart and stood to protect them. I am here because they knew what they were doing. Humility, honor, courage, and unconditional acts of love. I think that is the only time that word is used, universal meaning that is now becoming rare, as a result of empty overuse. Now I stand with what I can. i feel so inferior to the grandmothers out there that have stood up in their weary years to speak for us who are either too afraid, too tired, too sick, or too blind to understand the importance of our time - the urgency. I heard one elder say today, "Time is short. Time is calling us." amazing. My dreams are loyal to the times. I ask myself everyday why am I having these prophetic dreams yet I do not have the knowledge of what to do with them. "We can talk about things, but without prayer we will never succeed."

Change my reality? I don't mean to dishonor those ones that came before me or deceive the ones that will come after me. I only want to be a part of a different reality that includes peace, unity, and overall a reconnection with our mother, the Earth. To begin with strengthening my own spirit seems to me the only sensible road to take. I feel like something is coming. The hairs on my body tingle at the thought. Truth. There is a bit of fear and yet a feeling of relief - I am not insane. I see the women of the world have listened! That is another word that has echoed in my mind for many years. "Listen" to the whispers of the earth, the universe, the ancestors. I listen and sometimes I am afraid. I have no one to share this with. I am a quiet woman, a mother, a grandmother, I am a grain of the earth, with all my relations.