Poem – “Fighting for our Freedom”

We tell our children to trust us
And then we send them off to war.

We tell them that they are “fighting for our freedom”
but really we are sending them to die.

They fight for oil. They fight for glory.

They fight for nothing more
than to prove that the American Way
is the only way.

We’ve become the hall monitors
the snitches
the bullies
of the world.
What we say goes.

We are the ones who go and tell countries to stop
doing things their way
and to start doing things
our way.

Because our way is best,
you see?

Rampant obesity, depression, anxiety
in children and adults.
People stocking up canned goods
and dried milk
and ammunition
enough for years
enough for an outbreak of
zombies
or talk show hosts.

Same thing.

Our way is best.
Be like us.

With one in four children
going to bed hungry,
with people graduating high school
who still don’t know how to read
or think
for themselves,

our way is best, you see?

America, heal thyself.
Then,
if you have any money left over
after every child is fully fed
and fully educated
and every person has
a job
and a home
then maybe
you can think
about sending out your citizens
as ambassadors of this new
American Way
instead.

What about we “fight for freedom”
with love
instead of bullets?

What if we teach and train
instead of terrorize?

Oh, no, they say,
we aren’t the terrorists.
The terrorists are our enemies.

But how are we different
when we impose our will
on another nation,
another culture
by force
at the point of a gun?

Let’s invade them with water wells
and textbooks
and fresh food
and self esteem
and peace
instead.

But first, let’s practice here
to make sure we’ve got it right.

Spiritual director – probation officer

Sometimes I feel like my spiritual director is my probation officer. I have to check on with her every month to see how I’m doing. That makes it sound like I don’t know how I’m doing, or like I’m going to the doctor for a checkup. It is kind of both.

A spiritual director is kind of like a guru. Their goal is “intimacy with God”, and while that is pretty nebulous, it is a good goal. If any minister I’d ever had over me talked like she did, I’d still be in church. But sometimes it is really hard work. It is one on one, for an hour. It is really intense.

I feel awkward going. She cuts right through the muck, like a laser. She sees through my veils and obstacles that I put up, voluntarily and involuntarily.

Sometimes I hide. There are some things that I know we disagree on, like salvation. I don’t feel that Jesus came to save us. I feel that Jesus came to tell us that we aren’t broken and don’t need to be saved. There is a huge difference here. I know that I differ from mainline Christianity in this. I also know that I’m in alignment with the words of Jesus in my belief. So I keep on saying it in my blog. She and I, however, we butt heads over it. She says we are broken. I say that Jesus says we are as good as we are going to be and that is good enough.

I also feel that she’s holding back in telling me things. I’m the kind of person who needs explicit instructions, and I feel that she’s the kind of person who wants me to figure it out on my own. Perhaps she feels that if she tells me something that I should be experiencing, that I’ll fake it. Kind of like how if you read about a particular disease, you might feel like you have the symptoms and you don’t. Or like if you explain something a certain way, it will frame that experience for that person. I feel she wants me to have my own experiences.

I dread going almost every month, but this month is worse. After going, I immediately want to go again. Then a month later when it is time to go, I don’t want to at all. I think I don’t know what to talk about. I think that whatever I’ve experienced isn’t enough. I’m pretty sure I’m doing it all wrong.

Am I cheating, by wanting to skip? Am I falling to the wayside, or am I on the right path?

I’d like to work on the manuscript for my book. I’d like to catch up on sleep. I’d like to paint. Wednesday mornings are nice – I don’t have to go in to work until the afternoon. If I go visit her, I lose a lot of that time. It is only once a month, though.

Sometimes rules help, sometimes they hurt. What rule am I following here? Go once a month regardless? Do it automatically? Or feel it out? Discipline is the root of “disciple” after all.

Part of it is realizing that she works for me, not the other way around. I pay her for her services. It is like using a personal trainer, but for your soul. It is really weird and really awesome.

This month I decided to cancel. And I’m glad I did. I feel that if it is a choice, it is easier. God loves a cheerful giver, after all. If I go because I feel I have to go, then I’m missing the point. But then I also know that if I slack off too much I’ll get out of line/habit/practice. Order is important to me.

It is all a balancing act. Order / freedom. I chose order, of my free will. But too much order starts to feel stifling.

Poem – cut loose

This is a day of culling.
This is a day of cutting loose
and letting go.

No longer time to sow
or reap.

There is no harvest here.
Not yet.

This is a time to prune,
to trim,
to weed.

But not gently.

This is a time of slash and burn,
of cut and run.

This is a time of throwing off the rope
and sailing away.
No map, no rudder, no charts.

Just go.

Like a laser
Like a diamond
Like a scalpel

Cut loose.

No time for maybe
or might have been.

Cut loose.

This is the day not for new beginnings
or happy endings
but something in the middle.

We aren’t used to middles.
We are uncomfortable with
not being
here
or there.

But that is where we are.
The grey time
the afternoon place
the doldrums,

Better accept it.
The sooner the better.

Cut bait now
with a sharp knife and paddle on over
to another spot
because
now
that line is holding you down.

No matter if the biggest fish
you ever saw is about to grab hold.
No matter.

He hasn’t yet
and if he does now
he’ll just pull you under
or drag you along
to your death.

Cut loose
and live.

I’m not going to rescue you.

I have this situation going on. I’ve come up with a way to explain it. It is all a metaphor, but it works.

Say I have a friend who is terrible at driving on the freeway. She gets all flustered and upset with all the racing traffic. She needs to go downtown, so I tell her the best route to take that doesn’t use the freeway. I’ve taken that way myself many times. I give her my GPS with the route programmed in. I give her a map.

And she takes the freeway anyway. Then she gets frustrated and upset. Then she freaks out and just stops her car on the side of the road on a freeway overpass. Then she expects me to come rescue her. She expects me to leave work and drive to where she is and take care of her.

She’s created the problem. She had a perfectly acceptable way to get where she needed to go and refused to use it. She doesn’t try to take care of the problem herself. It wasn’t an accident. It wasn’t a surprise. It was the logical result of the situation, because that is what always happens when she drives on the freeway.

Even though I did my best to prevent the problem that she is experiencing, she’s created the problem by ignoring me. And now she wants me to rescue her.

And I refuse.

And I’m seen as the bad guy.

She’s not acting like an adult. She’s not acting in a responsible manner.

If she did her own thing and got into trouble, but rescued herself, then it would be fine.

But that isn’t the situation. My plan is always to prevent the problem before it is a problem. And if I rescue someone when they ignored me to start off with, I’m enabling their bad decision making.

If someone keeps doing this, then I stop talking to them at all. They want me to help them, but only after they’ve made the situation infinitely and unreasonably worse.

I have no problem with helping people who try their best. I have a big problem with helping people who cause their own problems again and again. I feel that I’m aiding and abetting if I help someone who refuses to take care of herself.

If I wanted dependents, I would have had children.

The end of suffering.

1) Acknowledge the pain.

2) If you can do something about it, do it.

3) If you can’t, then accept it by giving thanks for it.

Further on this –
1) Acknowledge the pain.
It does us no good to ignore pain. Pain is a sign that something is wrong. Ignoring pain doesn’t fix it. It prolongs it. Pain, when ignored, will often come out in very unhelpful ways. This is the source of self-abuse and addictions. Drinking, drug use, overeating, and other addictive behaviors are maladaptive techniques to deal with pain. They are a response to pain. They are a symptom. Any addiction is a repetitive, albeit misdirected, attempt to cure a problem. If you address the root cause of the problem, then the addiction will go away. Addictions just delay the cure.

Pain can be in many forms. Pain doesn’t have to be physical. Pain can result any time your needs are not being met. Grief is a form of pain. Any loss can cause pain. Not being respected, heard, or understood can cause pain.

2) If you can do something about it, do it.
Address the pain head on and see what the source of it is. Dig down to the root of it. Then dig down further. Often our first answer to “what is wrong” is just a surface answer. Keep going deeper. How do you feel? Who made you feel that way the first time? Is it the situation, or your reaction to it that is the cause of the pain?

Is there something you can add or subtract from your life to change the situation? Even if it will take a long time to get there, just getting started is good. Every step towards your goal is one step further away from your problem. Are you frustrated with your job? Look at transferring. Start taking classes. Do you feel that your needs aren’t being met? Is part of the problem that you aren’t telling people what your needs are? Is part of the problem that you don’t know yourself?

A lot of pain comes from settling for it. We are trained to be quiet with our suffering. This isn’t healthy. We are taught to say “I can’t do that” or “Nobody will listen to me”. Ignore those voices. They aren’t yours. They are the voices of a sick society that wants people to stay miserable. Get started, one foot in front of the other. Every step towards your goal is a step away from the problem. It is hard at first. It gets easier, but you have to keep doing it. Nobody is going to do this work for you.

3) If you can’t, then accept it by giving thanks for it.
Just like Jonah in the whale, giving thanks to God for your problems can be very healing. He gave thanks for God while in the middle of his problem. He didn’t say that he’d give thanks once he was released. He gave thanks right there and then. He was released just after that.

Sometimes the painful situation is temporary, but we just can’t see the end. Sometimes it is meant to slow us down long enough to see things from a different perspective. Giving thanks is what makes us human.

Holy Mole-y

1 avocado
1/4 tbsp turmeric
1/4 tbsp galingale
1/4 tbsp sumac
1 tbsp cilantro
1 tbsp lime juice
1 tbsp extra virgin olive oil

Use as many organic ingredients as possible.

Put the flesh of the avocado in a cereal bowl, discarding the skin and the seed. Slice it up with a knife into small bits. Add the dry ingredients first, mixing well with a fork. Then add the lime juice and olive oil, mixing it all together and smashing it up into a smooth-ish consistency. It won’t be pretty, but it will be tasty.

This is better created in a bowl instead of a blender. You’ll be able to eat all of it this way.

Makes two servings. Eat immediately, as it will not keep.

I created this because I like guacamole for the avocado but not for the raw onions and the green and red peppers that are often included. This has a lot of flavor and no salt added. If you can’t find those dry ingredients, try basil and cumin. A little black pepper is nice too.

Black bean and turmeric hummus

Using a food processor, put together

One can of black beans (organic, low sodium) rinsed and drained

1 heaping tablespoon tahini.

Pulse gently until blended. (About 10 pulses)

Add to that –

2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil

2 tablespoons lime juice

5 grinds of Himalayan or sea salt

I tablespoon dried cilantro

1 tablespoon turmeric

1/4 cup water

1/2 tablespoon dried chopped minced onion

Process until creamy smooth, about 1 minute.

Add up to
1/2 teaspoon “Miracle Blend” salt to taste, blending in.

Poem – wine

Every day I eat a handful of grapes.
They are fermenting in me
making wine
in my blood.

The bread of my life
is laid out before you.

How many communion wafers
do you have to eat
to become the Body of Christ?
What is the half life of Jesus?

How long does it take
to know
I’m already
ready,
already
enough?

Poem – empty/silent

Because of this line between us
we are empty.
Empty hearts make for bad bedfellows.

Because of this line between us
we are brave.
Brave enough to be silent.

Our braveness
and our emptiness
fill us up
and empty us out.

Sometimes we don’t know
if we are
coming
or going.

Sometimes both.
Because we sure aren’t here.

Perhaps somewhere in our silence
we can stop
long enough
to be still
and see each other
for real,
for the first time.

Seeing and being seen is such a raw thing.
Unopened, closed off we are safe
from exposing our soft spots.

We face off like duelists,
turned sideways,
never straight on
for to turn sideways
is to expose less of yourself
and to protect your heart.

The heart is what matters most
after all.

So we draw these lines
between us
and are empty
and silent
always afraid
we’ll get hurt.

On being lost, and found.

It is really fascinating to see different people’s reactions to when they hear why I don’t go to my old church any more. Every now and then members of that church come into the library where I work. Sometimes they ask why they don’t see me anymore. Sometimes they don’t ask and I tell them anyway.

I’ve pared down the story to what is essentially an elevator speech. It is short and to the point. I explain how the church experience that we are being served doesn’t match up with the Church that Jesus came to create. That it isn’t about us giving all of our tithe money to support a building but the Body of Christ. And that Body isn’t just the church members but everybody. I point out that Jesus didn’t tell us to have ministers or a division of lay and ordained.

It is interesting to note the reactions. Some people start to turn away from me, to actually try to leave. I think they feel threatened by my ideas. An alarm clock is certainly threatening to people who are asleep.

I would have had the same reaction to anyone saying what I’m saying about five years ago. How dare you attack my church?

But now I think about what church is, really. Who are we serving? Who are we following?

One person I talked to said that the church is being run like a business. He said that the former priest did the same thing. And yet he still goes. He said his wife refuses to go to that particular church because of the priest who is there. I’ve met others with the same sentiment.

But it isn’t the minister. It is the whole idea. We are doing it wrong.

The minister is being duped too. She’s bought into the system. She has the most to lose, so her ego is tied to it.

And sometimes I find a sympathetic ear. Sometimes I find another rebel. Sometimes I find someone who feels the same way and is also searching, also feels that something is wrong. Sometimes they tell me that they are going to other churches. They are shopping around.

They haven’t yet realized like I have that the problem is bigger than that minister or that parish.

We have to strip the whole thing down and start all over again. We can’t fix it from the inside. I tried that. I was viewed as crazy. I still am by many of those who still go to that church. Declaring someone as crazy is the fastest way to discredit someone, after all. It is the fastest way to silence someone.

I’ve not gone silent. I’ve just gone away. And in leaving I’ve found a large community of people who are just the same as me. They love Jesus, but they weren’t finding him in the church. We can’t all be crazy. Perhaps there is something more going on. Perhaps we are the only sane ones. Perhaps it is just like with “The Emperor’s New Clothes” – perhaps we are the only ones who are seeing things the way they really are.