"Spotlight"

It's with a heavy heart that I write this. Having just watched "Spotlight" and having watched previous documentaries about Catholic priests abusing children, I don't know how anyone can remain Catholic without demanding change. I like the Catholic church. I was raised Catholic, and I still like much of the ceremony and tradition it promotes. It's what I know.

At the heart of the Catholic church is money, greed, posturing, and treatment of the Pope as if he is God himself. I know, I know, how dare I say anything about Pope Francis, the "People's Pope", if you will. But he has done nothing. He has spoken great words of concern about the issue, sure, and set up a committee or something, but he has done nothing. Not really.

How is it that we are appalled when a child is abused in any other situation but we turn away from the systemic situation of child molestation by Catholic priests and others in the Catholic hierarchy? How could we let this happen to children? To their lives, to their families, to their futures?

Watch any documentary on Marcial Maciel. If that doesn't convince you, read even one of the famous 14 documents mentioned in "Spotlight". The abuse has gone on for decades, and worse, the Catholic church has covered it up, continues to stall, and cover it up even more. 

I don't understand a world or a faith or a denomination that allows this to continue, and I don't understand an entity like the Catholic church - projecting faith, love, kindness, generosity, charity - while covering up and continuing to stand idly by, hiding behind that very ceremony and tradition I love under endless layers of secrets, lies, manipulation, and money.

Why isn't there more outrage? Why do people continue to fall in love with the Pope and the Catholic church when they continue to prey on children?

To fall back on an overused "slogan", "What would Jesus do?" Would Jesus really want this to be swept under the rug? Would Jesus want an earthly "spokesperson" (aka, the pope) to NOT do something?

What is the Catholic church so afraid of?

The victims who are adults were once children. There are still children being abused by priests. One of them could be yours.

Freedom

"We inherit our freedom, but now is the time to fight for it." ~"Red Dawn" (2012)

This week, a couple of news stories depressed me a wee bit about the state of our United States.

Merriam-Webster defines patriotism as "love for or devotion to one's country." 

Some of America's citizens now shun even children's patriotic ideas. (See "Administrators reverse ban on American celebration at Fort Collins, CO, high school") What kind of a country has America become where the idea of celebrating being an American IN AMERICA will offend others who live here but may be from another country? 

And why would Coca Cola pick "America the Beautiful" to be sung in so many different languages? (Search for "America the Beautiful coke ad") I understand showing all kinds of images of our diverse population with a very American song such as "America the Beautiful" being sung in ENGLISH. What makes my blood boil is how Coke's ad actually causes divisiveness. What's even worse is that Coke, projecting an image of being for immigration, is sadly exploiting the topic of immigration to expand their market and make more money. It is about the bottom line for that very American company.

Even though my blood boils over with anger at these two news stories from this week, I'm tired of being so angry at the anti-patriotic sentiment. I don't think I even have much left to feel disgusted.

My feeling is sadness. Pure sadness. So, as soon as my supply of diet Coke runs out, I will no longer purchase anything from that company. I needed to cut back anyway.

Or maybe, after having a flag pole put into our front lawn, I'll watch Lonnie raise the United States of America's flag every morning. Over a bullhorn, we will say the "Pledge of Allegiance", too. And like Lloyd Dobler from "Say Anything", I'll hook up a "jam box" so large that the entire subdivision will hear "America the Beautiful" blaring out IN ENGLISH every morning. I'll be quenching my thirst with water, hot chocolate, diet Pepsi, or even mud. Anything would be better than a Coke.

O Christmas Tree

There is something so peaceful about a Christmas tree. This year, we put smaller one in our bedroom, decorated it with some small, glass ornaments that we can't put on the main Christmas tree (one word: cats), and topped it with an angel.

I think we've created a new tradition. Every night since Lonnie set it up in our bedroom, we've turned the lights on, and even now, as I write this, I look at it and am instantly calmed. A Christmas tree really is a beautiful thing. And it represents so much more than the lights, the branches, or even the memories that adorn it in the forms of all kinds of dangling ornaments.

So, I decided to renew my (forgotten) knowledge of the history of the Christmas tree on history.com and this paragraph stood out:

Germany is credited with starting the Christmas tree tradition as we now know it in the 16th century when devout Christians brought decorated trees into their homes. Some built Christmas pyramids of wood and decorated them with evergreens and candles if wood was scarce. It is a widely held belief that Martin Luther, the 16th-century Protestant reformer, first added lighted candles to a tree. Walking toward his home one winter evening, composing a sermon, he was awed by the brilliance of stars twinkling amidst evergreens. To recapture the scene for his family, he erected a tree in the main room and wired its branches with lighted candles.

 I never knew (probably forgot) that the Christmas tree tradition began in Germany. Americans actually thought the trees were odd. The first record of one being on display was in the 1830s by the German settlers of Pennsylvania. I love all kinds of Christmas trees, and I tend to think most are beautiful in their own way. If children decorate a tree, it's beautiful because children decorated it. If there are popcorn-cranberry strands of garland, I think that's also beautiful in an old-fashioned way. On our main tree, I still hang ornaments that I made from when I was in elementary school. Two of them are covered in tin foil. (Lonnie promised me he'll get his childhood ornaments at my father-in-law's house this year.)

Big, small, flocked, or green, fat, skinny, all white lights, colored lights, blinking or still lights...a Christmas tree is a flood of happiness and peace. It's a beautiful night light, too.

Merry Christmas!

Dog Barking

Tonight, after finishing dinner, we watched a show. After a few minutes, I stood up and used the back of one of our chairs to hold steady while doing some of my physical therapy exercises. Nagini, our black lab mix (with some Great Dane in him, too) started growling like we've never heard from him before.

He growled at one of our menacing living room windows. By this point, it was already dark outside, too. And we all know it's a fact that the scariest times happen at night. He started ferociously barking, we hope to protect us from whatever imaginary threat he thought he saw through or reflected from the window. I looked out into the back yard, cupping my hands around my eyes to better see anything he might find threatening. I looked once, twice, nothing.

There was an extension cord wrapped and sitting on the window sill. Perhaps Nagini thought the tan snake was coiling, preparing to strike him at a moment's notice. To show him how tame the extension cord was, I picked it up and dropped it on the floor. His big-bad-dog barking continued.

It might've been the reflection he saw of Lonnie and me in the window itself. I raised the blinds thinking that might calm him. No matter how many times I looked, each time finding nothing but our back yard right where it was supposed to be, he continued to bark.

I didn't think of this at the time, but maybe he was seeing a spirit. It is Halloween Eve, not that that's the time they all come out, especially to be peeking in our windows. Still...creepy. And now I will find some way to go to sleep while my wild imagination works toward a goal of no sleep for me at all, mulling over what could be lurking in our back yard. The stories in my mind are endless. My mind is like a bad neighborhood...you don't go in there alone.

*tingling and shivering*

Learning to Walk Again

Today's surprises all had to do with my knee, the one I injured resulting in surgery. I found out at physical therapy that they would unlock my brace so that I don't have to keep my leg locked out straight at extension. I've been walking around with a peg-leg. All that's missing is the parrot and the eye patch. Today, though, unlocking the brace so that I can bend my knee while in it was a little scary. I hadn't really put much pressure on that leg since July 30. So hearing that I would be walking through on that leg, even if slowly, freaked me out a bit.

My physical therapist, who's awesome, literally showed me how to walk again. I've been walking for almost 44 years. I think I have the hang of it. Or do I? It was an unsteady feeling to begin walking, even slowly, on my gimpy leg. I'm getting the hang of it, but it's harder than it seems after an injury and surgery like what I've been through.

I even went grocery shopping all by myself and drove for the first time since the surgery today. The driving itself was so freeing, but being able to walk left me giddy with delight.

To top it off, I no longer have to sleep with the freakin' leg brace. WHOOOOOOOOOOP!

I'm far more appreciative now of my capabilities and have an even deeper respect for those who are limited physically or mentally.

It reminds me of that quote: "Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting their own battles."

Tonight's "cross-country" adventure

Lonnie and I had an errand to run earlier this evening. It was more of a frustrating/eventually comical 20-minute trip in "the 'burbs".

1. Someone almost rear-ended us in the CVS parking lot as we backed out of the spot.
2. Lonnie wanted to go through Taco Bell and get something to eat. Right before the girl (and I do mean GIRL) handed the bag of food to us, she and a fellow employee were having a "discussion" (a.k.a., argument). The fellow employee walked away, and we're waiting in the car.Still.Waiting. We had the food but no drink. Finally, I check the bag to make sure all of the order was there, and I asked Lonnie, "What're we waiting on other than your drink?" Finally, I leaned over Lonnie and said, "Hello!! Hellooooooo!" to the girl (did I mention GIRL?) who was standing right there at the window. She FINALLY heard me and said, "Yes?" I said, "We're waiting on our drink." She grabbed the drink, said, "Oh, I'm sorry" and handed it to Lonnie. I asked her, "Why did it take so long to get a drink?" And she said something about listening to the next person's order (this is how heard it, though, "blah blah blah") and apologized again saying she forgot. Lonnie said, "Well, if you hadn't been having that little 'pow-wow' with your co-worker, you might have realized we still didn't have our order." More apologies. I said, "Who is your manager?" WAIT.FOR.IT. "I'm the manager" she said. *rolling my eyes*
3. We drove to a different place (because I wanted plain tortillas since my stomach is kind of messed up, and let's face it, Taco Bell's tortillas are merely vehicles to put food in. Their tortillas aren't to be eaten all by themselves 'cause they aren't stars, but more like cameos in the Taco Bell fast food movie...wow, that was a stretch, even for me, but you get the picture). When we got to "almost-star-quality tortillas" establishment, Lonnie placed the order after hearing the woman ask through the tall metal speaker box, "May I take your order?" Next thing, a man's voice (apparently, someone's performing sex changes in nanoseconds these days) said, "Can you say it again?" Lonnie, frustrated with previous ordeals of this little adventure, said, "Are you gonna pay attention this time?" and placed his order. Once again *poof--sex change* the woman repeated the order back and told us to drive to the window. When I asked what the deal was, she stated that the first voice we heard was a recording, that they have to greet the customer within the first three seconds of arriving at the drive-thru. THAT I believe; however, you can usually tell a)that those are recordings and b)they don't match anyone else's voice who works at the place, and c)the "electronic recorded greeting"'s voice was the exact same as the woman at the end of the exchange. I'd rather wait and have them actually listen to my order ONCE than have someone ask me to repeat it.
4. Finally, there was a VERY aggressive driver in some little sedan (BMW, Honda, Kia, who knows?) who pretty much almost took off the end of our car (different from the CVS driver) while zigzagging between the car in the left lane a little behind us and us in the right lane. He risked all of that just to get 10 feet in front of us right before the light to turn right. Wow. That saved a LOT of time for him. I think I may have blinked once during that, so it was worth it, right, to save a "blink's worth" of time?

I'm tired now. I'm going to bed.
As a friend of mine would say, "I don't have time for all this foolishness!"
-a-

Kenny Chesney's "Old Blue Chair"

I'm pretty sure I've written about Kenny Chesney before, but that man inspires me with his music and lyrics. He doesn't write all of his material, but probably writes about 50-60% or co-writes/collaborates.

I LOVE "Old Blue Chair" because it makes me feel like I'm right there, sitting in it, with my toes scrunching up the sand, breeze blowing, and just BEING, breathing, and soaking it all in.

Old Blue Chair lyrics
Songwriters: Chesney, Kenneth Arnold;
There's a blue rocking chair, sittin' in the sand
Weathered by the storms and well oiled hands
It sways back and forth with the help of the winds
It seems to always be there like an old trusted friend

I've read a lot of books, wrote a few songs
Looked at my life, where it's goin', where it's gone
I've seen the world through a bus windshield
But nothing compares to the way that I see it
To the way that I see it, to the way that I see it
When I sit in that old blue chair

From that chair I've caught a few fish and some rays
And I've watched boats sail in and out of Cinnamon Bay
I let go of a lover that took a piece of my heart
Prayed many times for forgiveness and a brand new start

I've read a lot of books, wrote a few songs
Looked at my life, where it's goin', where it's gone
I've seen the world through a bus windshield
But nothing compares to the way that I see it
To the way that I see it, to the way that I see it
When I sit in that old blue chair

That chair was my bed one New Year's night
When I passed out from too much Malibu and Diet
And I woke up to a hundred mosquito bites, I swear
Got 'em all sittin' right there in that old blue chair

There's a blue rocking chair, sitting in the sand
Weathered by the storms and well oiled hands

Kenny Chesney Summer in 3D

Today, Lonnie and I saw Kenny Chesney Summer in 3D, and it was truly awesome.  The only thing missing, as I told Lonnie later, was the outdoors, the water, the sunshine, and maybe a boat or two with a beach thrown in there, with my toes wriggling around in the sand.

I won't give away any spoilers in case you want to see it, but he really is such a humble person who gives his fans infinite energy and entertainment in all of his performances.  As corny as this may sound, his music really speaks to me, the lyrics, the music, the way he sings, and the mood/feelings his songs evoke in me.

This movie concert was more than just his music, more than just 3D.  It was a small look into his life, how he grew up, and where his motivation and feelings come from with each song he sings.

His family and friends are phenomenal, too, and he's tried to keep them all together through this great ride of his career, his life.

I'm inspired to achieve greatness, to get creative, to live my dreams every time I hear his music and/or see him perform, read about him, see his band play.

Great music SHOULD always INSPIRE.ALWAYS.

Kenny Chesney succeeds in doing this for me every time.

Today

Today's a good day.  In spite of everything that's happened in the last 48 hours (not work related) and especially this morning (work-related), I'm having a pretty good day.  I can't complain, and I'm grateful for another day without resorting to unhealthy behaviors (so far).


Life is actually getting better.  I guess that's because I AM getting better, even if I have to measure it in small increments of time (minutes or hours), it adds up eventually.

"When I'm Not Chasin' Demons, There's Demons Chasin' Me" ~Kenny Chesney

Last night, I decided finally, FINALLY to let go.  I hope I can stick with that decision, realizing that there are people, places, and things that just aren't in my best interest, that need to be "given away".
Letting go is hard for me, it always has been.  It's something I've been working on recently with my therapist.  Yep, I'm in therapy.  Some of you already knew that.  I'm grateful that even though she and I both know it's in my best interest to let go, at least when I haven't been able to, she doesn't judge me.  Instead, she and I have worked really hard to find out what's at the root of it for me.  Up until last week, we still weren't sure what was at the root of some of my "acting out", but I think we've discovered major pieces of the puzzle in the last few weeks, a major one we uncovered last week.
I've reluctantly concluded that by not letting go, I hurt others, but mainly, I hurt myself the most.  It keeps me from moving forward.  And I'm tired of all of this, tired of not actually "going through the shit" as my parents and a family friend says and then getting to actually live my life.
I think I deserve to be happy.  Or at least there's this hope that I think I deserve to be happy.  Someone used to tell me, "Breathe in God, breathe out fear."  I think that's a pretty profound statement no matter what you believe religiously or spiritually.  After all, I've remembered it for more than 10 years, and I can barely remember how I got here this morning.  :)
I'm tired of chasing demons or having them chasing me.  It's time to live the life I was meant to live.  I'm not even sure what that means, but as I stated before, I'm hopeful it includes happiness, joy, and freedom from these demons of mine.
For those of you who know what I've been through, even just since the Fall, and why, I cannot thank you enough for your love and support.  I have the best family and friends in the entire world.


*hugs*
Ang

Physical Pain

There's this saying that Buddha has about living in the present, not dwelling on the past or dreaming of the future.

When I'm in physical pain, I really can't do much of either.  Then I thought, "What if I were in physical pain all the time?  That would certainly force me to live in the present more instead of ruminating about the past and having all the emotions that go with that and worry about the future, and all the emotions that go along with THAT."

I'd still rather be physically healthy all the time and work on how to live in the here and now, in the present, enjoying the present, living in the moment instead of being in physical pain to do so.

And in thinking about that, I'm grateful that even though I'm in physical pain today, I don't have it every day.  I'm grateful because I know people, personally and in general, who DO experience physical pain on a daily even hourly basis.

Today, I'm ok with just "being in the physical pain" because I know it will pass.
A

Does letting go promise relief from your obsessions and demons?

The obsession to pressure other people to see things our way keeps us agitated instead of seeing that every person's view has validity, at least to that person. Letting go promises relief from the obsessions that troubles each of us.

We've tried to force solutions that didn't fit, driven ourselves crazy trying to control others certain our way was right. Our past sometimes may appear to be a series of failures. But our present experience can be peaceful, hopeful, and successful if we make the decision to let go.

A Life of My Own by Karen Casey

Letting go is a decision I sometimes make many, many, MANY times a day.  Obviously, I'm not all that successful.

The Path to Recovery is Forgiveness?

"When a deep injury is done to us, we never recover until we forgive."
Alan Paton
S. African author (1903 - 1988)


I wonder if this is true.  I think I go back and forth in my own recovery (not substance/chemically-related), sort of the whole grief cycle.  It's really all about grieving what happened, what didn't happen, what we got or didn't get, who we thought someone was or we thought they'd be, losses of people, pets, places and places in time, like college days, high school days (never had to grieve h.s., though-was happy to see those days gone)...and because grief is a cycle, and there are many steps in that cycle, the forgiveness of others who have harmed me including forgiving myself seems to swap places quite often with sadness, remorse, guilt, shame, and anger.


I just hope that one day, I can get to a place where I get to the forgiveness stage faster and that it's a more consistent feeling regarding losses, people who have harmed me, and people I've harmed.


Even if others never forgive me for my transgressions, that'll be something I'll have to learn to accept.  As long as I find the way to forgiveness of myself and others, I'll be doin' ok.  :)

Buddha on Compassion

Our sorrows and wounds are healed only when we touch them with compassion.
-- Buddha

If we have no compassion for others to heal and for ourselves to heal, does that mean we have no soul, no mindfulness that everyone is flawed and deserves the chance to change, to start anew, to heal, refresh, renew his or her spirit and soul?  

Those with no compassion for fellow humans being flawed and trying to heal themselves simply means they do not have the capacity to imagine another person's journey.  Those people do not have the capability of being mindful of others' obstacles and struggles on their journey, their willingness to recover and make amends.

The very people that show no compassion for another's struggles and their willingness and actions to get better are the people that actually need the most compassion.  But they cannot give away what they lack the most in and for themselves.

A

"Dexter Morgan" (from the TV Show "Dexter") on Grief

"If the eyes are the windows to the soul, then grief is the door.  As long as it's closed, it's the barrier between knowing and not knowing.  Walk away from it, and it stays closed forever.  But open it and walk through it, and pain becomes truth."  ~Dexter from the TV show of the same name. 

I don't know who writes the interior monologue/narration for the character of Dexter, but he or she is brilliant.  I could not add anything else to that quote.

A

Shakespeare on Honesty

“Honesty is the best policy. If I lose mine honor, I lose myself.” ~William Shakespeare

Some people just aren't capable of getting "down and dirty" when it comes to getting RIGOROUSLY honest with themselves.

Fortunately, as ugly as my own truth may seem at times--past actions, transgressions, lies, who I am at the core of myself--at least I am able to truly look at myself and discover not just why I've done these things but to be honest that I've done them at all.

I feel sorry for those who aren't capable of even being honest with themselves.  As the quote says:  no honesty, no honor, no self.  How could I ever expect someone to be honest with me when they can't even be honest with themselves?

Lies beget more lies, and it's so hard to keep track of them all. It's a shame that some people continue those patterns without ever discovering why they keep lying to themselves and hurting others with their constant lies.
I'm grateful I can look at myself in the mirror....and see ALL of me, good, bad, ugly, beautiful, warts, and the pretty face and eyes.  I can see it all and still love who I am.

A

Bosnian Proverb on Lying

Who lies for you will lie against you.  ~Bosnian Proverb

This quote is amazing.  It's kind of like, "if he'll do it for you, he'll do it to you", a quote from a friend of mine.

If a person can't be honest with himself, why would anyone expect him to be honest with others?

If someone's incapable, they can learn to be capable but must first be willing.

A

Maya Angelou on Forgiveness

“I don't know if I continue, even today, always liking myself. But what I learned to do many years ago was to forgive myself. It is very important for every human being to forgive herself or himself because if you live, you will make mistakes- it is inevitable. But once you do and you see the mistake, then you forgive yourself and say, 'well, if I'd known better I'd have done better,' that's all. So you say to people who you think you may have injured, 'I'm sorry,' and then you say to yourself, 'I'm sorry.' If we all hold on to the mistake, we can't see our own glory in the mirror because we have the mistake between our faces and the mirror; we can't see what we're capable of being. You can ask forgiveness of others, but in the end the real forgiveness is in one's own self. I think that young men and women are so caught by the way they see themselves. Now mind you. When a larger society sees them as unattractive, as threats, as too black or too white or too poor or too fat or too thin or too sexual or too asexual, that's rough. But you can overcome that. The real difficulty is to overcome how you think about yourself. If we don't have that we never grow, we never learn, and sure as hell we should never teach.”

~Maya Angelou

A

Christmas Surprises

Which do you like more: the joy of giving or the joy of receiving?

Can hate sometimes be healthy?

What do you think?

Friday, November 13, 2009 - LIFES BIG QUESTIONS

by kayepants

“Anger can be cured by time; hatred cannot… Much may happen to make the angry man pity those who offend him, but the hater under no circumstances wishes to pity a man whom he has once hated: for the one would have the offenders suffer for what they have done; the other would have them cease to exist.” —Aristotle

We use the word “hate” far too freely. I hate getting up early. I hate tailgaters. I hate turnips. Ihate hate crimes. That’s probably why the word gets such a bad rap. What if the truth about hate is entirely different? What if hate is a perfectly natural human emotion—and one that has its place? Right now, I’m angry with the man who broke my heart and want him to suffer. I would much prefer to hate him. Because then, according to Aristotle, he would cease to exist or matter to me. And that’s a coping mechanism I can get on board with.