Holding breath

Though not as philisophically inclined as most of my posts here, I just feel the need to record this day.

Today, I began to realize that there are dreams still in this world for me to chase.  I have not had a dream to truly believe in for the last four years.  Dreams, I believe, fuel our lives.  Without them, I have learned, the world is a cold and desolate place.

I used to dream, and often worked and went to incredible lengths to achieve those dreams.  I was, just as frequently, blocked by matters over which I had no control.  After the last few were pulled away from me at the threshold of holding them in my hands, I stopped dreaming.

I have faced and battled depression, anxiety, a very generalized sense of hopelessness, and more in these last four years.  All of it was because I lacked a dream, a goal for which to strive.  All of it was because I believed that it was denied to me.

Today, that has changed.  Today, I have been presented with the opportunity I have waited for.  Today, the doors are not quite opened, but I understand how to open them.  Today, I feel reborn.  Today, I have found a new sense of purpose in my life, and it’s a goal and a purpose for myself, which makes it all the more meaningful and desireable to me.

I will not yet discuss what the goal or the dream is with any but those closest to me.  The rest of the world will have to wait to see what will be wrought.  I will have long days ahead as I prepare and complete the work that is needed.  I will have stress, anxiety and frustration as I seek to build on the wildly varied foundations of my past.

Today, however, I see that I will succeed.  It’s not fail proof, it’s not protected or divinely appointed to me.  I could fail.  I see how to succeed though, and how to avoid failure. 

I’m both holding my breath today, gasping in awe at the reality of all that has been unfolding for the past two days, and even spent time looking around to be sure that this dream is meant for me and not someone standing nearby.  But no, this one is mine to hold, to nurture and to grow.  I am equal to the tasks at hand to accomplish it.

I am in a space I have not stood in since December of 2005.  I had a dream and a goal and a vision, and it was so sound that the SBA offered me a large sum to reach it.  I did not wish to open a business from a position of debt, so I declined their offer, and the means I had to fund the venture were taken from me without warning.  That was the last real dream I had for myself.  That was the last time I looked at a plan and realized that I had something that would work.

Today needs to be remembered.  Today needed a footnote among the deeper ramblings to remind myself, and to announce to the world, “I am on my way to something great.”

The Freewill Myth

NOTE: This post will not sit well with the majority of Christians who read it.  I am asking questions and having thoughts that probably qualify as heresy to most.  I’m well aware of that fact.  If you have a thoughtful, rational response, feel free to post it.  If you want to post that I am damned to hell, save your breath because I will delete it.  The status of my soul is not yours to determine and I’ll remind you that if you’re a Christian, you’re not supposed to judge, and if you judge me for daring to ask questions, then you will have my pity, and your post deleted.  I will not tolerate abusive behaviors here. 

Discussion and examination are, however, more than welcome.

 

I know that I am no Bible scholar.  Yet, perhaps this is why I see what I have seen.  I don’t wait for someone to tell me what something means.  I read, and while understanding the culture in which, and for which, a work was written, I can make value judgements about what I have read.  This is a part of the skill of reading, to not blindly accept a printed word, but to evaluate and seek understanding of it.  What I see is not often what is the “accepted” meaning. 

It has happened again.  I have realized something, and it is disconcerting to say the least.  I have no answer or explanation for it, except that there seems to be no refutation of what I have seen.

Those who know me well are aware that the fastest way to bring my full fury is to lie to me.  A lie will absolutely enrage me.  In the rare instances when I must tell a lie, I direct that rage at myself for letting myself get into a situation where I felt it needful to lie.  I hate deceit.

Yet, I feel I have been lied to.  I am, currently, in a state that resembles shock because of it.  I am also quite angry at the injustices that this lie has been used to gloss over or to ignore entirely.  I am angry at the lives lived believing in it, and at the people who have propogated it.

In Christianity, in the version I was taught at least, humans are given freewill.  It is what sets us apart from angels.  It is what allows us to have the chance at salvation.  My recent examination of this was actually begun from simple thought about the Asatru teachings of wyrd, or destiny.  One path teaching that there is a choice, one teaching that your life is written before it is begun.  Comparing and contrasting viewpoints is something that makes my mind a very happy place.

Thus it was that I stumbled into the realization that Christianity lies when it teaches freewill.  At the very least, it lies when it teaches that God wishes us to have a chance to choose.  The examples proving the point are so numerous that I found myself short of breath at the horrifying loss of human life, lives that were snuffed out and that were never granted validation.

First I looked at the story of Noah and the great flood.  The short version is, God got tired of people not following him, he had Noah build the ark, he flooded the entire planet, and left only Noah and his family alive with a bunch of animals. 

So, I went and looked this up again.  Most are familiar with the story, but there’s not a lot of actual reading going on.  My thought, when I went to look, was to see, was there a chance for mankind to turn away from not following God?  Was there a choice given?

Here’s what the Bible says:  (references taken from http://www.biblegateway.com)

[Gen 6: 1-3] ¹ When men began to increase in number on the earth and daughters were born to them, ² the sons of God saw that the daughters of men were beautiful, and they married any of them they chose. ³ Then the LORD said, “My Spirit will not contend with ^[a] man forever, for he is mortal ^[b] ; his days will be a hundred and twenty years.”

Wait… what?  God saw his sons, presumably angels then, marrying humans, got pissy and cut short the lifespan of the humans?  He didn’t like exactly what, by the way?  That his angels had families and left his side to be with them?  I’m already not liking this.  This sounds like a child having tantrums over not getting the toy he wants.  The idea of God cutting short a human lifespan over it sounds like the actions of a jealous, or mentally ill, lover who says, “If I can’t have him, no one will.”  As I said, this is already not helping the case to turn to aid Christian belief.

[Gen 6:4] ⁴ The Nephilim were on the earth in those days—and also afterward—when the sons of God went to the daughters of men and had children by them. They were the heroes of old, men of renown. 

(Interesting side note: nephilim = children of angels and humans, and for those into the darker mythos’ in the world, if angels can have children with humans, and demons are fallen angels, then the stories about human/demon offspring are at the least, backed by this one statement in the Bible.)

[Gen 6:5-8] ⁵ The LORD saw how great man’s wickedness on the earth had become, and that every inclination of the thoughts of his heart was only evil all the time. ⁶ The LORD was grieved that he had made man on the earth, and his heart was filled with pain. ⁷ So the LORD said, “I will wipe mankind, whom I have created, from the face of the earth—men and animals, and creatures that move along the ground, and birds of the air—for I am grieved that I have made them.” ⁸ But Noah found favor in the eyes of the LORD.

Now, explain to me, please, where humans are given the choice?  God just sweeps over the earth, decides “This man isn’t bad, I’ll pick him.  Then he sets in motion the plan to destroy everything? 

See, here’s the problem.  I was taught that God loves us all.  If that’s the case, why did he spend the first part of the Bible destroying humanity in a fit of pique?  Why, and moreover, how could he do it?  God is portrayed as our father, our creator.  I am not a father, but I am a mother.  Yes, there have been moments when I was furious with my children.  I never wanted to harm them, though.  We put parents who kill their children into prison, or into mental hospitals.  Why does God get a free pass here?  If one person loves another and kills them, they go to prison.  Depending on what they do, they may go to death row.  Again, why is God seen as just in doing this?

But back to the issue of free will.  These people who lived on the earth at this time were not likely so different from those of us here now.  They were families.  They had parents, siblings, spouses and children.  They likely had dreams and hopes.  They mourned the passing of their elders.  They celebrated the birth of their children.  They loved, they warred, they created music and art.  They were human beings.

At no point in any of this do the people have a chance to hear “There is a God, he loves you.  He wants to help you have better lives, and wishes you to follow him.”

In fact:

[Gen 6:11-13 ] ¹¹ Now the earth was corrupt in God’s sight and was full of violence. ¹² God saw how corrupt the earth had become, for all the people on earth had corrupted their ways. ¹³ So God said to Noah, “I am going to put an end to all people, for the earth is filled with violence because of them.

Notice that God mentions the earth being corrupted, and violent, but none of the diatribe I’ve heard so many preachers spouting about how the people were all gays and murderers.  No, the ultimate reason for the flood is, “the earth is filled with violence.”  Now, what have we to say about going to war?  (Nevermind the obvious hypocrisy, I’ll get to that one another time.)  There is, also for the record, no mention whatsoever of people mocking Noah, or even that anyone lived near enough to him to know he was building the ark.  No account of people scrambling at the sealed door as the waters rose behind them.  Thank you Hollywood.

So, the earth is wiped out.  Noah’s family survives.  God destroys everything, including, if there were the children of his children (nephilim), his own grandchildren.  No mention however that anyone was told “By the way, I know your parents/grandparents didn’t tell you, but there’s a god out here, you should get to know him.”  Not even an attempt to contact these people.

And time rolls forward, the stories continue.  We come to Abraham, a man called out of a city, in an age when people had again forgotten about (at some point) this god who destroyed the earth.  Abraham wasn’t born a Christian, or a Jew for that matter.  He was born to a pagan culture.  He left it, but how did he know to do so?  Because God reached out to him and said “Hey, come with me, okay?” 

Abraham is out wandering around with his household.  For those who don’t know, that doesn’t mean he and his wife.  It means him, his wife, their servants, their servants families, their slaves, all the herds, and so on.  He had a pretty decent tribe with him, even when starting out.  God decides he doesn’t like Sodom and Gomorrah.  They’re wicked and evil, he’s going to wipe them out.

I like Abraham.  I really do, and for this one thing alone.  I just think, as I read over all this again, that it is absolutely disgusting that a human have more compassion than the god he serves.  Not to fault the human, but to absolutely give reason to question the value and validity of the word of that god.

God sends visitors to Abraham who then tell him that they go to investigate claims of evil against Sodom and Gomorrah.  Abraham asks them to spare the city if there are fifty righteous in it.  Then he goes back until he bargains them down to ten.  They will have to find ten righteous men in the city to let it stand.  I call that some courage!  I also call it a sense of compassion, because Abraham knew what is never taught in our churches today.  These people also had children, wives, and dreams.  They were humans.  They weren’t Hebrew, or Christian, or followers of god, but they were human beings.  They were destroyed without a chance to turn back.  They died and God spared Lot’s family despite that Lot tried to buy off a crowd with his own daughters.  I’d have slit Lot’s throat and taken the women out.  What kind of father offers his daughters up to be gang raped?  What kind of god lets an act like that go unanswered?

The kind of god who says that we have the freedom to choose, but lies and destroys those who have never had the opportunity? 

Free will, under the teaching of the Christian church, is a myth.  There is no free will.  The sacrifice of Jesus did not change this.  Even in the end, having accepted Jesus will not guarantee salvation.  There is no “once saved, always saved.”  Your salvation can be taken from you even after your life, after you have no chance to correct things you may not have known were wrong at the time.

The evidence is here:

[Matt 25: 31- 46]The Sheep and the Goats

 ³¹“When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit on his throne in heavenly glory. ³²All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate the people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. ³³He will put the sheep on his right and the goats on his left.

 ³⁴“Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. ³⁵For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, ³⁶I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’

 ³⁷“Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? ³⁸When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? ³⁹When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’

 ⁴⁰“The King will reply, ‘I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.’

 ⁴¹“Then he will say to those on his left, ‘Depart from me, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. ⁴²For I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, ⁴³I was a stranger and you did not invite me in, I needed clothes and you did not clothe me, I was sick and in prison and you did not look after me.’

 ⁴⁴“They also will answer, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or needing clothes or sick or in prison, and did not help you?’

 ⁴⁵“He will reply, ‘I tell you the truth, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.’

 ⁴⁶“Then they will go away to eternal punishment, but the righteous to eternal life.”

So, there will be those who choose God, and who are still damned.  If that doesn’t scare the daylights out of every Christian, it should.  The story of “Choose God and live forever” is a lie.  Yes, a lie.  Let’s be very honest with ourselves on this.  People are deceived into Christianity every day.  There is NO promise of eternal life just because you said a prayer.  If you said a prayer and thought that was it, you’re setting yourself up for a fall that is pretty long.  If you’ve told people that this was all they had to do, you better go back and correct that now, while you can.  Of course, there’s also no mention of the people who are not, and never were Christian, who do these things.  Will they go to Heaven for filling the needs of their poor and imprisoned?  Not according to the way salvation is taught.  It smacks of a horrible double standard to me, but that’s just my take on the matter.  No points for doing the right thing without the threat of Hell.  Nice way to cripple the human desire to be compassionate?

According to these things though, there is no free will.  Jesus said to go into all the earth and teach.  But what about the people who lived generations without hearing?  According to the example of the old testament, they’re all damned.  There is no place they’ll be sent after death, no limbo in which to wait.  They were not given a choice.

I’ve been taught to value life, all life.  I’ve been taught, and believe strongly, that generosity, a sense of charity and caring, are valuable traits to have, and that each life has value.  I’ve been taught to stand up for what is right, and to stand against those who would harm others unjustly.  I’ve also been taught, and believe, that lying is one of the worst things you can do.  So why is God lying, and if God isn’t, why are people lying about him? 

Either way, it does seem that the entire concept of free will is a myth.  Either a myth or a practical joke that went badly wrong.

The Corrupting Factor of Power

There are many of us in this nation who are dissatisfied with the path our government is taking.  There are those of us who have been dissatisfied for many years.  It doesn’t even seem to tie closely to which party is in power as there are many who are dissatisfied regardless of the controlling party, but rather express dissatisfaction at the overall courses the government chooses to follow.

The one comment I keep hearing is that a certain politician was a great politician at a local level.  It’s usually someone who had a reputation as being an advocate for “the people” who was elected to higher and higher positions.  Then, upon arrival in Washington D.C., they “forgot” about the people and started being like “all the other politicians.”   This opinion is almost uniformly followed by sagely facial expressions and knowing tones that state, “Power corrupts.”

While approaching the status of quotes that have survived centuries, the origin of that statement is traced back to the 1800′, making it fairly recent despite the grave and ancient-sounding import with which it, and the full version of it, are spoken.  The reality is, power is not what corrupts.  If one begins with a person of principle, then that person will remain a person of principle.

Why doesn’t it seem to work in government offices, though?  Why is it that the member of the city council who works to aid their neighborhood will slowly climb the political chain and then seem to forget the people at home?  Why would someone who started out preaching in a small church that was too poor to afford air conditioning end up growing a large church, or chain of churches, only to fall prey to drugs and adultery?

The problem is not that the power has corrupted anyone.  The problem is that the person was already inclined in these directions in the first place.  Their motives are rarely questioned because we, as humans, want to believe the best of those around us.  We want to believe, and in many cases have a need to believe, that the politician seeks to go from council member to mayor to state representative to senator and possibly to president solely because there is an innate desire to help people in their mind and heart.  We want to believe that the minister who takes a church of 20 and turns it to a church of 20,000 plus televised broadcasts, does so because he believes that the world needs to hear the message of Jesus and to find salvation.

What we want to believe has the power to blind us, if we allow it to cause us to see only what we want to believe and not what is.

The reality is, regardless of the arena that gives birth to a powerful figure, the person who takes the power is inevitably doomed to betray the faith of some or all of their followers because they are seeking power, not to be faithful to those who give them power.  To continue to support the concept that power is what causes the corruption serves only to continue to excuse the bad behavior of those who assume leadership positions, who often work for decades to achieve the power they desire, and to give “the people” hope in individuals who have no care for the best interests of the people that they claim to represent.

The problem is this; there are few truly good leaders who are not, in some fashion, corrupt.  The reality of that is that a pure person could not lead a large group.  A person who had never experienced a downfall, who had never betrayed a trust or been betrayed, who had never misrepresented or blatantly lied about something would not be capable of understanding the people that they lead on any meaningful level.

The solution is not to overthrow the leaders that we have, or to destroy the government that leads our nation.  The solution is to recognize that people who seek power have motives for doing so.  Some of these motives benefit the people they lead, some do not.  Instead of listening only to promises during an election process, the question that needs to be asked is, “What is it that you want, for yourself, in this effort?”  In asking such a question, and in being willing to hear the truthful answer clearly, we would be far more capable of choosing leaders who would guide the nation in the direction we wish to see it take.  As of the current moment, I do not believe that the people of this nation are capable of asking such a question, or of hearing the responses.

Leaders in our nation receive multiple benefits ranging from financial reward even to shelter from prosecution in some cases.  Having that power, even if the individual is corrupt, is not necessarily a bad thing.  What we need, however, are leaders who will be honest with us and answer the question, “What do you hope to gain for yourself?”

If the prospective leader responds that they wish to gain money, then it is not likely that they need that position.  Many have complained bitterly as taxes increase following a pay raise our “concerned” representatives vote through for themselves.  If the prospective leader states that they see the world as a chess board and they wish to “win the game” then it is possible that this is someone we should vote for.

Withhold your horror, dear reader.  The question that follows is simply, “What game are you playing and what is the objective?”  The answer to this question is going to tell us, swiftly, whether this is a candidate we wish to consider further.

Consider then, these possible answers:

- To create a new image for the nation as a beneficient world power.

- To see our nation return not only to power, but to being the most powerful nation on the earth.

- To set a tone for internal growth that will carry on beyond my life.

- To gain the respect of the world for our nation through diplomacy and military strength.

- To make our nation a leader in ____(field) and set things in motion to keep us there.

Perhaps we would need to probe more deeply, but my guess is that every reader of those options has at least one that they are instantly opposed to, and one that they like, or one that they feel I should have included.

Again, this all comes back to the fact that at the present, we fail to respect reality.  Reality demonstrates that those who seek power do so for personal gain, not to benefit others.  We are all, even our leaders, much like those who have been wounded as children and who now turn to the fields of psychiatry and social work in an effort to heal or defend others from similar situations.  We are each driven to the things we do by the sum of our experiences.  Expecting something different, some puritanical standard of thought and deed from our leaders only sets us up to remain dissatisfied and to feel betrayed and misunderstood by those leaders.  Who are we to demand understanding and compassion from those we offer neither to?  Who are we to demand power over those we feel power has corrupted?

Perceptions of Age

I’ve been noticing in the mirror lately that there are more than the few silvery strands of hair that I recall seeing before.  I’m not anything close to “salt and pepper” but there are definately more of those silver hairs.  Part of me noticing this recently is that I have decided to stop coloring my hair.  I have colored my hair red since 1995.

I made myself a promise, long ago, that I would not fight the signs of aging when they came to me.  I might not fully surrender, I agreed with myself, but I would not wage the vain war that this society tells me I must wage.  Realizing that while I have enjoyed the red hair, it really isn’t doing much for the quality of my hair to continue washing it in chemicals every month or two, I opted out of continuing something I maintained out of habit. 

I also realized, in my recent observations, that my hands are beginning to show the early signs of aging.  The skin is not quite so smooth or supple.  The creases around my knuckles are a little deeper.  At times when I am tired or under large amounts of stress, the vessels stand up a bit on the back of them.  Some of the freckles I used to have are suddenly missing, and others look a little darker, and perhaps larger.  My face also shows the earliest signs of aging.

I am not saying any of this with a tonality that cries against an injustice.  Nor do I speak from a place of despair or regret.  I see what is, I recognize that it means the “blossom of youth” has finally begun to give way to the early signals of autumn’s approach.  It is what it is, nothing more.  I am human and that means that with time, my body will age.  Arguing or complaing about it, crying and fighting against it, is all rather pointless, isn’t it?

The society we live in is rather amusing to watch, and heartbreaking to participate in.  We spend the first part of our lives trying to become older.  We know that when we’re another year older, we’ll be happy because we’ll have that new freedom.  We are certain that turning 16 means freedom from having to ask for rides and 18 means freedom from having to listen to our parents, and the elusive 21 means freedom to visit bars and drink ourselves into stupidities we can’t imagine when sober, provided that we recall them afterwards at all.

And then, the tides shift somewhat.  Thirty, for women is “the beginning of the end.”  Unmarried at 30 leaves us assigned to the lives of spinsters, and thirty is when our bodies “give up on us.”  We run to fat, you know.  We become horrid, saggy, wrinkled masses, lose all appeal to the men in our lives, and are resigned to drunken nights in seedy bars hoping to catch a man who’d be so kind….

So then we spend the rest of our lives trying to become young again.

Well, if we’re trying to be older for so much, and trying to be younger for the rest of our lives… am I the only one who has asked us how we know what it’s like to be young, or middle aged, or old?  I mean, if no one is building houses, how can we know what it’s like to build one?

And so, while I am here at the leading edge of the process of becoming old, I renew my vows to myself.  I will not argue or resist, whine or cry or fight against this process.  This is nature.  This is the changing of the moon and the turning of the tides, the migration of birds and the turning of seasons.  I do not promise to grow old gracefully, but I do promise to accept it as it comes, in whatever time it comes.

And once I have grown old, I will let everyone else know what it’s like to become old without the fight against it.  Finally we’ll know what it’s like to build a house.

Money, the root of…?

The economy in our nation has struggled, crawled on bloody knees, clawed itself forward with torn fingernails, tried to rise and fallen harshly into tatters.  We have watched it, felt it, and other nations have also watched and felt.  The crumbling of the U.S. economy has sent shockwaves of despair around the world.  In such an environment, it is expected that people evaluate, or re-evaluate, their feelings about money.  Many views are shifting, and doing so dramatically enough to even make the news as families find out that they do not need money to enjoy time together, yet again.

My views on money have not changed with the tides of the economic crisis.  The reality is, I see no crisis.  It is no more an economic crisis than winter is a weather crisis.  Yes, it’s inconvenient.  Yes, there are hazards.  Yes, there are those who will not sail through it unscathed.  I do not mean to make light of those who have lost or suffered in this economy.  I am among them, myself.

Yet I think that what this nation still misses is that the axiom handed down to us by our Puritan founders which says, “Money is the root of all evil,” is not true!  I think it also misses that the newer axiom, spawned like the tantrum of a child in their attempts to rebel and define themselves, which says, “Money is the source of happiness,” is equally false.  Money is neither the root of evil, nor the source of happiness.  Ascribing such extreme value statements to any inanimate item is rather like writing an essay and declaring “all” of anything is such and such way.  Sweeping generalizations are flawed, in writing, debate, and especially in thought processes.  The reason they are flawed is that they do not allow for exception, but they also do not allow for review of a idea, or of the process that brought about the idea.  Often I have found that when someone holds an extreme view it is because they are either angry, afraid or because they hold the view someone told them to hold.

To think from a place of anger or fear is human.  Being able to think from those places has allowed humanity to survive.  To think from that place and never look at the thoughts it has generated after the immediate need to think from such a place has passed is a sign of an unthinking mind.  To follow what those we trust or admire have said is also human.  Often we are told to use the examples of those who have had success.  What we do not seem to also understand is that someone who has had success may not always have the right of a thing.

So, we find ourselves in a financial nightmare, individually, and as a nation.  More and more people begin to decry materialism and declare again that money is the root of all evil.  I declare that money is not the problem.  It never has been and it never will be.  Money is also not the source of happiness, and if it is the only source of happiness in someone’s life, then that person has greater issues within themselves than money can repair.

Money is a tool, nothing more.  If you desire great material wealth, then perhaps money will help you gain it, as it allows purchase of large items in this world.  If you desire nothing but a simple life, money can also enable this.  It is of no more value than a hammer, and like a hammer, if misused, you may hurt yourself or someone else with it.

I have several in my family who declare money is the root of all evil.  Oddly enough, these are the successful people in the family.  I have not asked, as they would not answer, but I wonder if they regret the years they lost to the acquisition of their wealth.  Was it worth the years of not knowing children as they grew?  Was it worth the child who attempted suicide because she thought her father did not love her?  Was it worth the son who left home and never returned, parting with the statement that he was tired of waiting for his mother to have time for him instead of her bank account?  They live quite comfortably, these family members.  They have large houses with beautiful yards.  Their children were given the best of everything and their retirements are secure.  Yet, they live with families which are broken.

At the other end of the spectrum are family members who state that money is the root of all evil, and who have no money.  They work through their retirement years.  They’ve worked all their lives and seen little gain, if any.  They also have broken families, and they have no means to care for themselves if they fall ill. 

Two sides in the same family, both declaring money to be the source of their troubles, but for reasons that are polar opposites.  It makes a decent argument about money being the root of all evil, if all you look at is the surface.

What happened in both instances is that the people sought money, and little more.  There was no joy in life, or in the living of life.  Every ounce of energy they possessed was focused on gaining money.  They ignored the needs of their families, and themselves.  They ignored the greater world beyond their immediate need for money. 

Money is, in this world, a necessity.  Utility companies will not provide services for barter.  Some foods can be gained through barter, if you know people who have gardens and you have something they want and are willing to trade for, but many items cannot be gained this way.  Clothing, even if you make your own, must still be purchased with money. 

Money is not, however, a “necessary evil.”  To take this view puts a weight of drudgery on anyone seeking to earn money.  That weight breeds resentment, against companies who have stated their terms and requirements clearly, against family members who require money for food, housing, or medical expenses, and so on.  Resentment of this sort warps and crushes the soul.  It then manifests in depression, anger, and resentment of those around us.  It breeds hatred of those who have more money, and egotistical stances against those who have less.  Ultimately, it will turn to weighing self-worth by how much money, or how many items purchased with money, are held.

This is the source of the evil which is so often ascribed to money.  Not money itself, but the views held because of the resentment we cling to.  If we step back for a moment and weigh the things in life which are truly pleasurable, things which truly add value to ourselves and our lives, we find that money is not truly among those things.  Even those who assert that money enables them to have the things which they value will find that money itself is not the thing which has value, but rather the enjoyment or personal growth they gain from what is purchased with money.

As an example, if someone seeks money because they want to use it to further their education, it is not money which brings the enhancement, but rather the education itself.  If someone seeks money because they wish to purchase a certain car, it is not the money that brings enjoyment, but rather the owning and use of the car they desired.  If someone seeks money because they want to send their children to private schools, it is again not money, but the knowing that they have provided the best opportunity to their children which brings a sense of pleasure and achievement.

We become too attached to money, though.  We complain about spending it, even when purchasing the things we so desire.  We hoard it and are loath to use it, even for necessities.  We receive our bills in the mail and open them with a sense of dread, even when we know that there are sufficient funds to cover the expenses.  This is self-defeating as money is, again, merely a tool.  We have earned for the purpose of using it, whether to make purchases, pay bills, or to invest for our futures.  To invest so much of our energy into the earning of money and then resist or regret the use of it is counter-intuitive.  The sense of dread regarding spending, or regarding the use of the funds we have earned is entirely self-defeating and robs us of the pleasure of being able to use those funds.  This is a fear born of scarcity teaching.

We are taught that money will leave us, like a callous lover who woos and then abandons us just as we trust them.  Yet money has no mind or thought, no internal intent.  Money is not capable of this manner of behavior.  Like any material item however, money can be misused and “lost.”  If treated as one would treat an expensive piece of equipment, with respect for the fact that anything which is misused will not last long, money will last, and often lasts beyond the bounds of those who declare that the amount is not sufficient.

Churches teach that if we give, then our generosity is rewarded, in this world, by the return of our funds seven and ten fold.  This teaching is so complete that I know many who will claim that when they cease to give money to their churches, they fall on financial difficulty.  Yet, having observed these same people, I recognize that often the giving begins or is at the very least more diligently done, when financial hardships have fallen.  If one gives to a church while seeking work, when there is no income, then certainly, it could seem that giving to the church causes financial improvement after a new source of income is found.  The reality is, many churches are increasingly predatory upon their memberships, some even requiring authorization for automatic bank drafts to pay “tithes” to the church.  The assumption is that these tithes are used to pay for church expenses and for outreach to the less fortunate.  The reality is that the pastors make more in their yearly salary than many of their flock, and live in better homes, driving better cars, while those who have tithed so faithfully are struggling to keep their homes, or simply to put food on the tables.  We have returned to the age of the pharisee, and the pharisees of today broadcast their message and their requirement for more income on national television and privately owned stations.

The Bible does teach about money, and it teaches a great deal.  It teaches to be a steward, and to manage your funds wisely, to invest in ventures which cause your money to grow.  It also, though this message is not taught often, teaches that those who speak the messages of the Bible are not to have an income, but to rely on donations from their flock.  Not tithes, but donations.  Tithes made to the temple in ancient Jerusalem were not used to provide wealth for the priests, but were to be used to care for orphans and widows.  Even at the founding of the priesthood, the priests were authorized to eat a portion of the offerings that were brought.  Again, no tithe supported them.  Jesus told his disciples to go into the world as they were, without even a change of clothing, and to teach.  He certainly did not tell them to book first class passage and broadcast their message from the comfort of their home town once a week while living in luxury. 

Today, churches teach that money is evil and that the congregants must let go of their greedy ways and give money to the church, but the reality is, it is the church which has become greedy and predatory, and is loathe to use those funds to truly aid the members of its congregation.  I have wondered many times why it is that these churches, with so much money coming in, did not step in early in the US housing crisis to provide relief to the families within their communities.

I understand, even as I write this, that some may become angry with me for stating things as I have.  I understand that.  I have been in a place where these words would have angered me.  I do not ask anyone to question their faith.  I do however refuse to sit silently and not ask questions that require thought.  If you are reading this and find yourself ready to respond to my commentary in anger, whether it seems righteous or not, I ask only that you step aside from your anger first, and think.  Be very honest with yourself.  What is the real source of that anger?  Are you certain that the thoughts you have, in defense of a church you feel loved by, truly justified?  Is your church among the few that truly reach out to their congregation and the community around it, or are you among those who have been blinded by the lights of the cameras as they film your pastor in his tailored suit while you wonder what is left to feed your family that day?

I am not, for the record, a woman of great wealth.  I have struggled, I have been unemployed for a long period of time and I understand the despair that comes from not having enough money to purchase food, clothing, or even housing.  I understand the tendency to cling to money and to hoard it when the drought breaks, for fear of finding a similar situation thrust upon me again and the determination to never allow it again.

I have come through that place of thinking to a place where I recognize that it is not money which is the source of the trouble, but the manner in which it is viewed.  I recognize that it was not the loss of income that caused me to struggle, but my despair over it.  It was not the loss of freedom to go forth and spend which caused grief and strain, but rather the now strange concept that money was required to find enjoyment in life.

I challenge those who read this, in whatever financial situation, to step aside from your bank accounts and your finances for a single day.  Plan a day where you will be away from your home, and find a way to enjoy yourself.  Go out, take a sack lunch and be a tourist in your own area.  Take along a close friend or your family, or even a pet if you happen to find yourself without human company.  More shocking still, go alone, by choice.  Walk the streets and truly view the area in which you live.  If you have a lake nearby, go and spend some time walking near it.  Fish, if you like, and think on the fact that in fishing, you could provide a healthy meal to your families.  Take a walk in the forest and find out how many trees you can identify, or how few.  Find the holes in your life that are screaming for fulfillment, places where money has no place in which to insert itself.  If you usually drive, leave the car behind.  Walk, ride a bike or take a bus.  The point is to insert yourself fully into your world.  Until you do, you will not find a life beyond the seeking of money.  Once you do, you will find yourself learning more about how much money really means to you, and how much of life is missed when it means too much.

For future writing reference

Money is neither the root of all evil, nor the source of happiness.

The path you are on is not better than the one someone else walks, except for you or you wouldn’t be there.

Power does not corrupt what is not corrupt to begin with.

Chasing Down the Sunset

This line has hung in my mind for many years.  At times it seems to spin out into slender threaded lines of poetry.  At times it just hangs, like a southwestern sunset where the sun seems to linger before finally slipping below the horizon.  It comes to me at times that have nothing to do with a sunset, or even with the sun at all.

I think that perhaps it is how I feel about life at times.  We wake and we race about through the day with so many things to do that we already know our efforts at completing our tasks are futile.  We fall, exhausted, in the night, hoping to sleep long enough and well enough to complete the next day’s tasks and the remaining tasks of this day, also knowing that the next day will be the same as the one we escape from with our sleep.

While broader social commentary is possible, and even supportable, I see this as a personal understanding.  It is one I do not enjoy having.  It is an understanding that can, at times, leech the joy from life like bright sun taking the color from a painting.

I asked a friend recently if I look as old as I am.  Her response was what I knew to be true, but did not expect to hear.  I do not look to have as many years as I do, but rather I look weary of the world at times.  I am weary of the world, more often than not.

I am weary of the way that the world insists that I must do things the way that “they” insist is the proper way.  This vague, undefined “they,” who somehow dictate the expectations of the world to us all.  I am weary of the world that insists that I must be all things, and be each in perfection.  I am weary of a world that has no true place for me in it. 

Were I left to my own devices, what sort of world would I craft for myself, though?  “They” say that no one is capable of doing this, though I know that I am.  My life would be far simpler, this much I know.  I would not be chasing down the sunset.  I would cease to urge myself forward with assurances that if I just make it through the day I can rest again that night.

I would, instead of chasing down the sunset, greet the dawn again as I once did.  My days would be more evenly divided between the tasks that are required for life, and time with those I care about, and time with myself alone.  I would let the sunset find me, lingering quietly and wishing the day a gentle farewell, knowing that I will greet the dawn again the next day.  I would take anyone with me to such a place, if they shared the same leanings in their own hearts.

This is what I would do, if I could.  I am unable, however, to seek such a life.  I am trapped in a world of people who insist that they must have the newest items, not caring that the things they purchase have no lasting value.  I am caught in the trap of an economy that whispers seductively to others, telling them that the largest house is the one that they must have if they would prove their worth to the world, but averting their eyes from the fact that this house is made cheaply and mimics every house around it, thus destroying any true worth. 

I do not speak of a return to the earth, not for myself.  I have lived in a place where my family had to grow its own food, hunt or trade for meats, dairy and poultry.  The life of a farmer does not suit me well.  Let those who love such work and who feel rewarded by it, continue on in those arenas.  Let those who would trade in merchadise also continue on.  Likewise, let those who find fulfillment in setting policies for nations continue on in their chosen professions.  But what of those of us who are not given to these things?

When will the world listen to the poets, the story tellers, the artists, and hear us all screaming at those who chase down the sunset, “Stop!”  When will the societies of the earth make it possible for those of us who do not desire great material gain to be seen with something other than disdain?  When will those of us who are comfortable having enough to eat and a warm place to rest, and needing so little otherwise, find ourselves viewed with the same regard as the titans of the business world who craft multi-billion dollar industries from nothingness?  Are they not also only artists who use a different medium?

I know that the world will not hear my voice.  I know that I am not to be allowed to escape this race to chase down the sunset.  I wish I did not see the futility of it, racing so hard against the sunset when even if we were to reach the horizon before it, we would not escape it.  Even were we able to stop the sun from setting for one day, in time, the sunset comes to us all and none of us may outrun it.

When that final sunset comes, I wonder what is in the mind of others.  Do they regret that they did not spend more days appreciating the sun at its zenith?  Do they wish that they had greeted more sunrises?  Do they lament that after chasing down so many sunsets, they can no longer even recall what the sunset looks like, or that they only have a dim memory of taking the time to note the beauty of the sunset? 

When that final sunset comes for me, what will be in my mind?  Will I share regret with the world that has caught me in its snares and refuses to let me go?  Will I go quietly, still imprisoned by it all?  Will I remember the many sunsets and sunrises I have seen and marveled at?  Will I greet that final sunset with memories of the sun charting his way across the sky while I lay beneath it reading, or laughing with friends?

May it be the last of these, for me.  May I greet that final sunset with my memories clutched tightly in my hand, like banners won in battle.  May I welcome it as I might a dinner guest, with all understanding that I was preparing for it all along.  And if, in the leaving with that final sunset, it comes that my life here shows others that they need not force themselves into the struggle for more, better, and bigger, then I will smile back at those who have understood and hope that in time, enough people will be touched that the world may yet change.

While humanity’s current conditions are fairly worrisome, I have faith in humanity, to see, to learn, to understand, and to grow beyond this child-like grasping for material gains.  We are no longer children.  We are owed nothing, nor are we entitled to anything.  We have what we earn, and what we earn, we shall each have, in time.

Think on this as you chase down the sunset.  What would your life be if you stepped out of that race?  Would you have time to love those who are near to you?  Would you find that you have a gift for writing music that can lift weary hearts, and celebrate the richness of life?  Would you find that who you are does not depend on the house or the car you own?  Would you finally understand who and what you are, child of the universe?

Perspective and Appreciation

I have been thinking on the concepts presented in the cliche, “Youth is wasted on the young.”

Is it truly wasted?  If it is, what else is then wasted on a species that seems unable, for the greater part, to appreciate what is until it has passed into being what was?

Consider the seasons of the year.  In the spring, many complain of too much rain, saying that they can’t wait until it is summer so that they can have sunny days.  In the summer, they complain of heat and how they can’t wait for the cooler days of autumn.  In the autumn there are complaints that the days are growing short and that the evenings and nights are too cold.  In the winter, there are complaints of the weather again and desires for spring are spoken. 

Yet, once spring has passed, the blooming flowers and trees are missed.  Once summer has passed, the warmth of the days and the comfortable evenings are looked back on with wistful desires to have the time to spend them differently, and the pattern continues.  Oddly enough, those desires do not seem to bring about a change.  The same patterns are repeated every year.

I hear many say, now, that they wish they had their fleeing youth back.  They wish they could use that time and energy again, with the greater wisdom they have gained over time.  Yet, I find myself wondering if they would truly use that time better if they were allowed the chance to regain a youthful body full of energy and vitality.

I think that perhaps youth is not wasted on the young.  I think perhaps this is a longer set of seasons we move through as we age.  Our summers come and bring us a remembered appreciation of the earlier years, and our autumns provide perspective on our summers. 

There is perhaps some small seed of wisdom in this understanding and acceptance of the passage of time.  There were too many things that were not understood in the past, and in lack of understanding, we fail to appreciate them as they are in that moment.  With time and perspective, with a bit of distance between ourselves and what was, we find that there were many good things that we overlooked.  Given room, this appreciation of what was can grow into an appreciation of what is.

Perhaps this is maturity, to see and accept where we are, and to appreciate it as it is, rather than looking back at what was or looking forward toward what may be. 

I do admit to having been guilty of the failure to appreciate things as they were when I was in that moment.  And yet, though I try to appreciate what is, I am still no great master at this skill, and it is a skill.  it is a learned and trained skill as surely as any other.  In time perhaps I will master it.  For now, I appreciate that the moment I am in has brought to me this reminder that where we are in the present is the most important time and the one to most cherish that our memories of it may be the sweeter when the time arrives that we look back on them with the gentleness of nostalgia.

The Need For Victory

I have noted that in some, there is a need to be constantly victorious.  These few I have known with this trait describe life as a game, often similar to chess, and describe their interactions with others and with their situations as settings they feel that they must “win.”  Failing to win, they will then often employ a “cheat” to ensure their victory.  It can be at times as though their ability to “win” defines who they are as a person.

I have attempted this manner of living.  I have attempted to turn life into a game to win.  My failing there was not that I do not play the game well, but rather than winning is not central to my identity.  I do not mind throwing a game at times and allowing someone else to win if I perceive that there is a need within them that will be met if they win and that their need is greater than mine.  I need little, and thus I often throw the game.

I have also had to interact for many years with someone for whom these games are a way of life.  When I informed this person that I was not playing a game, I was graced with a look that only translates to, “You’ve gone insane!”  Our last interaction was when this person had to face reality.  I am adamant about enforcing reality.  Failure to live in reality means, for me, a breakdown of sanity.  If there is truly a game afoot, then let it be played in reality, not in fantasy.  This individual had begun to play in the realm of fantasy.  I insisted upon reality.  Reality has a bad habit of beating fantasy, and I did not throw the game though I knew exactly the price this person would pay when I did not throw “the game.” 

The price was paid, in full, and all that I really won was a momentary peace before they begin the next game, and an apology for the grief their game caused me this time.  Small things that I do not always deem to be true needs.  I did not insist upon victory in this instance because I needed to win.  I insisted because throwing the victory to my opponent this time would have erased other victories I fought hard with myself to attain in years past.

The victory is empty, for me.  I should, by the standards of those who play the “game of life,” be crowing my triumph as though I had just slain an arch enemy.  All I feel, at heart, is that I managed to defend my life, and reality, and a bit of history I would rather forget about; and that it cost my opponent more than I will be able to fully understand for many years to come.

My opponent was not even a person I like, and is not someone for whom I hold any measure of sincere respect.  I grant them the scant considerations due to another human, and that I do out of habit more than any real sense of esteem.  Most often, their games and the need to be victorious do not impact me in any manner in which I am concerned about.  This time, they made the mistake of putting me in a situation where the only way to grant them victory would have been to lie.  I will not lie if I have any means to avoid it.  There are certain things I will not lie about, even if I know that a lie would make the way easier for another.

Those who move through life to play their games and seek their victories must live, I think, a very empty life.  Those who require victory to maintain their image of self must suffer devastation when they fail to secure the victory.  I would grant them the victories they require, if only to prevent them from suffering.  And yet, they must know that suffering a loss is also a victory if it is approached correctly. 

Loss is not a thing to fear or to avoid, but rather a set of circumstances which describe to us the areas in our lives which need attention.  Loss will teach us more, and allow us to grow more, than victory often will.  Loss is what comes to us to allow us to learn what prevents us from moving forward, and to open the pathways for ourselves.

The Dark Night

The mystics, and the Sufi, tell of a time of testing for the spirit when the concept of self falls away and all that remains is union with a great force.  Some refer to it as God.  Some refer to it as “Oneness” or “The Source.”  The constants in the variant teachings of this time are that it is called the Dark Night of the Soul, and that the person who passes through it gains much, though this time is a trial by fire and accordingly is painful to endure and often entails times of deep loss.

Some seek this Dark Night willingly, eager for the dawn that follows.  They have watched others pass through it, or read of passages through that night, and they wish to follow that path.  Many find it thrust upon themselves and resist it, not wishing to endure the trials and the many requirements of it.  Of both groups, not everyone passes through that night, and the dawn never reaches them.

I have passed through the Dark Night.  There were many times that I was almost among those who are lost within it forever.  I did not seek the night, though it found me.  I saw it approaching and I ran from it, terrified of the darkness, the losses I knew I would have to face, and the wounds I sensed that I would have to suffer in passing through it.  It is not possible to flee from this spiritual night any more than it is possible to flee from the setting sun and the physical night that follows.

The part of the Dark Night that I struggled most with was to release all sense of self.  I did not and could not understand how I could release a sense of self and still live.  I did not understand how surrendering my concept of who I am could possibly lead to anything beneficial.

It took years for me to pass through this night.  The last two years of it were the hardest.  The first thing I had to learn was not to hope for others to carry me.  In my past, if I fell or if I found myself to be weakened, there were always others nearby who would lift me back to my feet.  At times there were those who would pick me up and carry me, not requiring that I stand and walk or draw on my own strength at all.  I have learned through this night that I have the strength to stand, and that while I enjoy the comfort of a friend who will stand nearby while I recover my feet after I have fallen, I do not wish to be carried, and rarely do I truly have need of a hand to hold as I rise.  I also had to learn not to be too proud to take the hand that was freely offered when I was not able to rise on my own.

The other thing I finally came to understand was that giving up my sense of self was the only way to become myself.  To describe this most fully, I fall back to the analogy of a mirror.  We can look into a mirror and see an image of our own face.  If it is a large mirror, we may see our entire body and all that surrounds us.  We see only that image, within that frame.  That image is our perception of ourselves.  It is not truly who we are, though it moves as we move. 

Also, someone who stands before us and looks at us will not likely see what we see in that image.  We may see a face that has more lines in it than we like, a hairstyle we are pleased with, or skin that seems too pale or too dark.  The person who looks at us may see a bright and easily shared smile, sparkling eyes, and based on our movements they may decide that we are comfortable with the body we wear.

When in the Dark Night, the time comes to give up perception of self, it is like taking a heavy rock and shattering the mirror.  We lose the ability to see ourselves, to be critical of one area and approving of another.  We lose the ability to hold ourselves to often unattainable standards of perfection. 

This is a good thing, because we are each taught what to see in that mirror.  We are taught to see the things that displease others, and thus learn to be displeased with them when we see them in ourselves.  We likewise see that which is pleasing to others and have learned to see these things and to be pleased by them.  We are not taught to see all that we are without casting judgement on it.  This is a lesson that only the Dark Night can teach.

I have lived my life trying to be what others around me thought I should be, or who they told me I needed to be.  I’ve even chosen partners based on the opinions of others, and in a few instances, I have chosen partners who were not acceptable to others because they were not acceptable and I did not wish to submit myself to the opinions of my friends, family, and peers.  I have seen good in myself.  I have also seen things I deemed to be bad, flawed, broken, and unfit for this world.  I have tried to force myself into mold after mold, only to find that the parts I had to leave behind were not parts I wished to be without.

In the course of this Dark Night, I came to a point, shortly before the dawn, in which I looked at myself without any mirrors and without any input from any other human.  I saw myself as the gods see me.  Piece by fragile, tender, and often rejected piece, I gathered together all that I am.  It was much like having all the varied facets of myself placed in a basket so that I could look at each carefully.

Not every piece of what I saw pleased me.  I can be petty and vindictive.  When hurt or threatened I can turn into a fearsome woman who can and will destroy everything around her to ensure her own survival.  I can also yield to my fears far more readily than I would ever care to admit.  Yet, these pieces are all part of who I am.  If I destroyed any of them, or if I rejected or ignored them, I would not be fully my own person.

There were pieces that delighted me as well.  I have a gentle and caring heart that I enjoy sharing with others.  I love to play, despite the fact that this playfulness horrifies my mostly-grown children because they find it undignified of their mother to still want to play tag.  I love to sing and to dance.  I am intoxicated by the process of creating new works of art.  These pieces, as I had to learn, are neither more or less valuable than those pieces which I viewed with shame and disapproval.  They have their places within me, but they are not meant to be kept in a station which considers them to be greater or better than any other piece.

The last grouping of parts of myself were those I had ignored or denied due to the pressures of society, family, employers, co-workers, and friends.  These pieces of myself were judged severely, though not by myself.  I had rarely considered them.  They were, until the moment in which I viewed them openly and willingly, nothing more than scraps of fabric left behind after a pattern was cut out of a length of cloth.  In viewing them I realized that the pattern had been cut from a beautiful robe, and that without them, it would never be viewed as it was meant to be.

As I worked to balance the pieces I had previously considered good and bad, and to accept them each for the strengths and weaknesses they brought to me; I also worked to restore those discarded portions and re-create the original pattern as a whole.

As I did so, I found that there was no moment when I felt I had touched the faces of the gods.  Nor was there any great sense of jubilation.  There was a sadness as I understood how these things had come to pass.  There was a moment of anger at a world that would force anyone to be less than who they truly are, simply for the sake of creating “sameness.” 

Then, as the dawn came, and I stood again, I saw in the light of that new day that I am who I was meant to be.  I am fearfully and wonderfully made, just as I am.  I am complete and whole, so long as I remember that others have no power to dictate who I should be, and that my responsibility is not to rebel against those who try but rather to simply accept that they speak thusly because they have not yet gained the understanding.

Though my passage through the Dark Night did not involve some ultimate, precise and powerful moment of transformation, there is still transformation.  In the process of accepting myself fully, I have found a sense of peace.  That peace remains, though the surface of the waters may ripple under the winds of life, the deeper waters remain calm.

The surrendering of who I thought I was has given birth to who I am within.  The birth of who I am within myself, has given new life to a heart that was wearied.  The renewed life in my heart has opened the doorways to love, understanding, and hope.  Love, understanding and hope draw in the light of the new dawn and refresh my soul.  My refreshed soul has taken away the concepts of self to which I clung.  The surrendering of who I thought I was has given birth to who I am within.