If you go to a certain blog you will read the story of Ladan. It is not an urban legend, a myth, no one is asking for money. I know Doris, who knows and visits Ladan. It is an incredible story of human strength, courage, sacrifice...all the attributes that make a frail human more Godlike in their doings. It is a sad story, a story that makes us scratch our heads in wonderment at the doings of the universe. A story that, for me, raises questions about fairness and justice and mercy. Questions that are not easily answered in cases like these. God, in His infinite wisdom, knows what He is about. It is not up to us to question His doings...only to accept and radiently acquiesce. Ah, the key to survival, the key to being a spiritual being having an earthly experience. A test.
Please read Ladan's story and offer prayers for her and her family. It doesn't matter if you know her or not--God knows who she is and that's what matters. And, please, pass this message along to everyone you know and ask them to pray, too. Together we can make a difference. Do you need prayers? Send me a message--I don't have to know you, only that you need prayers. You'll get them, I promise.
Wednesday, August 31, 2005
Tuesday, August 16, 2005
A Decision is Made...
A blog from awhile back (Moving and Shaking...) discussed cross-roads and small town living. The road has been crossed and it appears that the trail will now lead to city living--though barely. The move will happen in about two weeks and it will not be fun. Too much to do and not enough time to do it. Hubby starts the new job tomorrow, so son and I are on our own again. Sigh. He's going up to stay in the city during the week--so we get to deal with the sorting and packing. Ah, well...
Looking for a place to live was a major pain! Some places would take dogs, but not cats. Others took cats, but not dogs. Others said no pets at all--even though they advertised as pet friendly. One place was a dream house--with a bit too steep a price tag. We could have done it, but it would have been a real stretch. The final factor on that one was that son needs a place not so far out from the city proper in order to get the services he needs. So, the search continued. One of the places was advertised as "four bedroom Victorian close to University" and maybe is was. The only thing we could determine that was Victorian about it was the era in which is was built. Beyond that, there was no resemblance at all. Though all pets were acceptable and it was very close to the new job, we hesitated... Very run down with a high rental price. Out of desperation, we called on a double-wide later that evening--made an appointment to go check it out. Never say "I'll never..." because the powers that be might have other plans--like making you eat your words. So, we check out the place. It's really cute! Way smaller than what we wanted, and I'll have to give up my art studio... But, it's liveable. A 2003 model on a cement pad. Sunny and bright, all pets welcome, etc. Okay, so we can't get in until 1 September, which is why hubby has to commute. There are trade-offs. Not enough time to spend searching the globe for a place and searching is very tiring--especially in the city. Actually, the place is not in the city itself, which is another good point. LOL But, it is close enough to make it just like living in the big city--we will be about seven miles from downtown. Cool enough, right?
So, while I said I felt like it was time to move, that may have been off the mark a bit. It was time to think about moving so I jumped the gun and "felt" like moving. There is a difference. Now the reality has set in along with the realization that moving is not really my cup of tea anymore. Just wanted hubby to be able to find a job in which he could feel comfortable and settled. The one position he was offered is just not his field and he was anxious about doing it. Yes, we could have stayed here, but teaching is already stressful enough without adding to it the fact that you are out of your element. The other position, while it means having to move, is a fit--it is the subject area he is trained in. Sometimes the universe conspires to send us where we may be of use, rather than letting us stay in our comfort zones. That's okay, too. Perhaps it was just too comfortable here? Who knows why things happen the way they do. Isn't part of life trying to figure it all out? Catching the next wave and seeing where you land? Well, it's time to wax my board, er, pack some more boxes...
Looking for a place to live was a major pain! Some places would take dogs, but not cats. Others took cats, but not dogs. Others said no pets at all--even though they advertised as pet friendly. One place was a dream house--with a bit too steep a price tag. We could have done it, but it would have been a real stretch. The final factor on that one was that son needs a place not so far out from the city proper in order to get the services he needs. So, the search continued. One of the places was advertised as "four bedroom Victorian close to University" and maybe is was. The only thing we could determine that was Victorian about it was the era in which is was built. Beyond that, there was no resemblance at all. Though all pets were acceptable and it was very close to the new job, we hesitated... Very run down with a high rental price. Out of desperation, we called on a double-wide later that evening--made an appointment to go check it out. Never say "I'll never..." because the powers that be might have other plans--like making you eat your words. So, we check out the place. It's really cute! Way smaller than what we wanted, and I'll have to give up my art studio... But, it's liveable. A 2003 model on a cement pad. Sunny and bright, all pets welcome, etc. Okay, so we can't get in until 1 September, which is why hubby has to commute. There are trade-offs. Not enough time to spend searching the globe for a place and searching is very tiring--especially in the city. Actually, the place is not in the city itself, which is another good point. LOL But, it is close enough to make it just like living in the big city--we will be about seven miles from downtown. Cool enough, right?
So, while I said I felt like it was time to move, that may have been off the mark a bit. It was time to think about moving so I jumped the gun and "felt" like moving. There is a difference. Now the reality has set in along with the realization that moving is not really my cup of tea anymore. Just wanted hubby to be able to find a job in which he could feel comfortable and settled. The one position he was offered is just not his field and he was anxious about doing it. Yes, we could have stayed here, but teaching is already stressful enough without adding to it the fact that you are out of your element. The other position, while it means having to move, is a fit--it is the subject area he is trained in. Sometimes the universe conspires to send us where we may be of use, rather than letting us stay in our comfort zones. That's okay, too. Perhaps it was just too comfortable here? Who knows why things happen the way they do. Isn't part of life trying to figure it all out? Catching the next wave and seeing where you land? Well, it's time to wax my board, er, pack some more boxes...
Measuring a life...
I send shafts of life shooting into the world
And you send them back to me, the pure light
From the prism of your heart, neatly bundled
Into bits and pieces of your reality, tidy.
Some things in life are unalterable: the wind chasing across the plains, the first snowfall of winter, and the first flowers in spring, the rising and setting of the sun. These are things that chart the ebb an flow of life. They blend together in movement with the stars. Fixed courses stitching together the fabric of our lives. They become backdrop against which our existence becomes three dimensional, giving color and substance to the time-line that stretches out before us.
These are the things that give credence and beauty to our space in time. We remember things, as they balance against the happenings of immutable purpose: when the snow came and we laughed and played--drinking hot cocoa by the fire; the time we felt the sunset was painted by the hand of God Himself; when the wind streamed through our hair--until it gusted so hard it knocked over the telephone pole down the lane. These things become yardsticks by which we measure the events of our lives.
These yardsticks, little ticks of time, have no reality without our acknowledgement. They exist of and by themselves, without thought or care for the acts of mortals. They exist beyond our existence, without mercy or compassion. The snow falls. The sun sets. The wind blows. Events that have no substance until we translate them into our lives. It is our perceptions of them that gives them meaning.
But what of our mercy and compassion When we rub up against the hard edges of another's reality, how do we translate it? Do we glibly put aside our own weaknesses and stand in judgment of the character flaws we perceive in others? Or do we cast a sin-covering eye, knowing that each life is sacred and must walk a mystical path in a physical plane? Is the hard edge of perception of our own devising, something we assume to be as measured against the rules and restraints we place on the souls of others? Who gave us the right to determine the value of another's character based on the mirror of our own heart?
If I cast my gaze upon you, and find you lacking, perhaps it is more a lack in myself that I see--the reflection of my own idiosyncrasies. There is no doubt that there are times when we miss-speak, react in anger, or just throw caution to the wind. But, overall, don't we strive to assume the trappings of civility? Don't we attempt to put our best foot forward? And if not, why not?
If we feel the freedom within ourselves to stand in judgment of others, we effectively cut ourselves off from any beauty inherent in that other. We lock ourselves into perceiving the foreign-ness rather than the similarities. We warp ourselves into a rigid form that sees only through a prism of narrow reality--a reality that can not or will not accept the rich textures that shape each individual life. In so doing, we lose the ability to learn, to grow.
This process of development, of personal growth, can not be measured by the changing of the tides or the rising and setting of the sun. These are natural elements, whose occurrence can enrich us. They are not the measure of a person's worth, nor do they determine the reality of a soul.
It is our ability to overcome our differences, to see within, and not cast judgment--to look at each other with mercy, compassion, forgiveness, that will determine how much value we have gained in our own lives. To hold up our way as the only right way places a burden on our own ability to view the world as a spiritual place, a place of reason, trust, and decency. My perception of you can not be clouded by my personal experiences. This does not discount the fact that there are wounded souls who have no other thought but to cause harm to others. These do exist. But, in the day to day living of life, the majority of people need only to be measured by the rule of compassion. In so doing, there will be gems of wisdom to be gleaned.
One of the greatest gifts that you can give another is to look at them and reflect only love.
And you send them back to me, the pure light
From the prism of your heart, neatly bundled
Into bits and pieces of your reality, tidy.
Some things in life are unalterable: the wind chasing across the plains, the first snowfall of winter, and the first flowers in spring, the rising and setting of the sun. These are things that chart the ebb an flow of life. They blend together in movement with the stars. Fixed courses stitching together the fabric of our lives. They become backdrop against which our existence becomes three dimensional, giving color and substance to the time-line that stretches out before us.
These are the things that give credence and beauty to our space in time. We remember things, as they balance against the happenings of immutable purpose: when the snow came and we laughed and played--drinking hot cocoa by the fire; the time we felt the sunset was painted by the hand of God Himself; when the wind streamed through our hair--until it gusted so hard it knocked over the telephone pole down the lane. These things become yardsticks by which we measure the events of our lives.
These yardsticks, little ticks of time, have no reality without our acknowledgement. They exist of and by themselves, without thought or care for the acts of mortals. They exist beyond our existence, without mercy or compassion. The snow falls. The sun sets. The wind blows. Events that have no substance until we translate them into our lives. It is our perceptions of them that gives them meaning.
But what of our mercy and compassion When we rub up against the hard edges of another's reality, how do we translate it? Do we glibly put aside our own weaknesses and stand in judgment of the character flaws we perceive in others? Or do we cast a sin-covering eye, knowing that each life is sacred and must walk a mystical path in a physical plane? Is the hard edge of perception of our own devising, something we assume to be as measured against the rules and restraints we place on the souls of others? Who gave us the right to determine the value of another's character based on the mirror of our own heart?
If I cast my gaze upon you, and find you lacking, perhaps it is more a lack in myself that I see--the reflection of my own idiosyncrasies. There is no doubt that there are times when we miss-speak, react in anger, or just throw caution to the wind. But, overall, don't we strive to assume the trappings of civility? Don't we attempt to put our best foot forward? And if not, why not?
If we feel the freedom within ourselves to stand in judgment of others, we effectively cut ourselves off from any beauty inherent in that other. We lock ourselves into perceiving the foreign-ness rather than the similarities. We warp ourselves into a rigid form that sees only through a prism of narrow reality--a reality that can not or will not accept the rich textures that shape each individual life. In so doing, we lose the ability to learn, to grow.
This process of development, of personal growth, can not be measured by the changing of the tides or the rising and setting of the sun. These are natural elements, whose occurrence can enrich us. They are not the measure of a person's worth, nor do they determine the reality of a soul.
It is our ability to overcome our differences, to see within, and not cast judgment--to look at each other with mercy, compassion, forgiveness, that will determine how much value we have gained in our own lives. To hold up our way as the only right way places a burden on our own ability to view the world as a spiritual place, a place of reason, trust, and decency. My perception of you can not be clouded by my personal experiences. This does not discount the fact that there are wounded souls who have no other thought but to cause harm to others. These do exist. But, in the day to day living of life, the majority of people need only to be measured by the rule of compassion. In so doing, there will be gems of wisdom to be gleaned.
One of the greatest gifts that you can give another is to look at them and reflect only love.
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