I Think I Have to Do This Part II

Yesterday I left you with the idea that "peace needs to be sexy, again."  It wasn't my thought.  I'm not that gifted.  It was something I heard on Oprah's Super Soul Sunday.  

When I heard Jean Houston say it I smiled and immediately thought of Woodstock and how (ideally) I would have loved to be there but (realistically) the disorganization and mud would have driven me bat shit crazy!  Let's just say I fancy myself there "in spirit."  I can MOST definitely say I would have loved to have been dry, fed and front row to each and every act.  If that could have been arranged...I would have been one happy, golden hippie.

But Jean Houston was not talking about Woodstock peace, which was arguably not peaceful at all.  I think she was talking about Jesus peace.  I call it Jesus peace because that is what works for me.  You may call it perfect universal equilibrium.  Some may call it "blue."  The name we give it is frankly irrelevant.  It's all the same when you strip the house of language away from it.

I don't consider myself "at peace"....ever.  I don't even sleep peacefully.  I don't consider this a character flaw, I consider it a unique attribute.  Sometimes my peace-less-ness serves me well, most times it doesn't.  It is something I am often chasing after and fall achingly short of reaching it.  Then I wonder if others "have it" and know how to "get it" and look at me, sadly shaking their heads at my many failed attempts.  And then I go a step beyond that.  I wonder if no one is chasing the peace BUT me and people look at me, sadly shaking their heads at my many failed attempts.  Y'all notice how many OTHER PEOPLE'S thoughts and opinions creep into my quest for peace.  I am going to head out on a limb here...the path to peace probably involves allowing all that bullshit to melt away...melt far, far away.  

I suppose in my quest for "peace" and "making it sexy" again I should try to define what I'm after.  All that comes to me is the following: a gentle hum.  Peace, for me, would feel like a gentle hum at the very cellular level of my being.  Like the hum of the bowl Marisa has in her house...it makes the universal sound OM.  The gentle hum would awaken my body to it's greatest purpose and it would replace the chatter in my mind...which I have recently learned NEVER stops.  I feel like I would emanate the hum and people would be drenched in it when in my presence.  It would fill up the space between me and everyone else.  The space would be pregnant with joy and love and limitless compassion and forgiveness.

I often find myself angry with Earth.  No, not Earth.  Wrong, wrong, wrong.  Earth is a mother who gives and gives and gives...like the tree in The Giving Tree and I fear we have collectively worn her down to a stump and yet we keep asking and drilling and begging and polluting as if her resources are infinite and our behavior should proceed without consequence.  (And I will be the first to admit I am a giant offender.)  

No, I find myself angry with the ways of the world.  Here I am, chasing after the gentle hum and God (or The Universe) makes it REALLY damn hard to find the hum.  And I'm truly privileged.  And...... as I just typed that last statement I closed my eyes and shook my head in dismay and disappointment.  My thoughts shoot to a starving child in Africa with a defeated and exhausted mother trying to fill his belly. Somehow I suspect they hear the hum and feel the hum far more clearly than I do.  

It's a funny thing, really, truly ironic....I want the hum and yet put a myriad of obstacles in my own way towards the OM.  Let's take this moment for example....I've got the television on.  Usher is entertaining an audience of people.  I did not go to my fitness class to find body balance.  I chose instead to come home and lay my head down for a few moments.  I allowed the actions of a few women today to occupy my thoughts and behaved in a glib manner when recounting the story (essentially gossiping) to a friend.  I never took into account the space between myself and these women...the place I want the gentle hum to exist.  I never, for a moment, tried to find the hum in them.  I have chosen to perseverate on several unanswered emails today...completely blocking the hum I am after.  I could go on forever.

Indeed it is time to bring "sexy back" in the form of peace....at least for me.  There is a song in church...

"Let peace begin with me...let this be the moment now.  Let peace begin with me...let this be my solemn vow. "

I'm gonna try real hard to bring sexy back...my way...not that Justin's way isn't equally as important.

And in my attempt to bring it back, I ask YOU, my friends, to help me be accountable.

Please do not forget about our current giveaway to see Club Nuit.  Click here to enter.

Click here to like Fete on Facebook.

Click here to follow Fete on Pinterest.

Click here to follow Fete on Twitter.

She is Clothed in Strength and Dignity

This little light of me, you bet your asses I am going to let it shine.  This little light of mine was created by my benevolent Maker, my Father, Lord and Savior.  What an insult to Him if I hide it under a bushel.  No!  I am going to let it shine.

And if the devil doesn't like it he can sit on a tack.  Right now the devil who is infusing humans I come into contact with on a daily basis can sit and spin on that tack because this light will not be extinguished come hell or high water. 

Hear me now and hear me clearly....I know that I can be stripped of everything and I mean EVERYTHING, but my dignity is MINE.  And in the end when it is all said and done all I really need is faith the size of mustard seed and mountains can be moved.  

 Remember friends, as I said a few posts back, the devil is the hare and God is the tortoise.  Slow and steady wins the race.  

Evil...if you want a fight...come on at me.  I am armed with Christ whose rod and staff comforts me.  I KNOW I will not be abandoned, not so long as I believe.  And I do believe.  And henceforth, I fear no evil.  I have feared evil for 37 years of my life.  I have been paralyzed by fear and the long suffering desire to please every human being I come into contact with.  That ends today.  

Surely, goodness and mercy shall follow me if I proceed with a smile and grace and open my heart with the love of Christ to everyone.  But while I am certain the love of Christ has no limits and suggests we often turn the other cheek...I do believe the love of Christ is a champion for what is good and just.  Let us remember the vengeance He unleashed upon the tax collectors in the courtyard of the temple.  

Make no mistake....goodness shall not be taken for a fool.  I am clothed in strength and dignity.  Those can not be taken away unless I ALLOW them to be removed from my character.  

God's loving plan is perfect, even through suffering.  I am in the midst of lessons hard learned but a long time in coming.  I open myself up to the universal lessons like a hungry student begging for lifes knowledge to add to my toolbox of strength.  It ain't pretty...but it's happening.  And as Glennon over at  Momastery said, "It is shit, what I am going through...but I am going to turn this shit holy."

It is only the golden rule if two people are in agreement to the terms.  I am....I'm all in.  But evil....I know this, you don't fight fair, do you?  Well, I do and YOU can not change that.

Today I will sit in the "okay-ness" of what is happening.  I will love who I am, I will celebrate my life.  I will value loved ones and pray for those are running out of air trying to extinguish me because they are children of my same maker, as well.  I will sit in silence and I will clothe myself in the purity of light.  I will ask for understanding, discernment, clarity and knowledge.  I will call upon those who have gone before....treated poorly because they refused the extinguish their light.  

Evil, when I am at my weakest, I am still better than you at your strongest, because I have Christ on my side.

And now...I am going to go dance around giving the glory of movement to God.

  

Yay Thirtysomethings

Today is lazy Friday.  It can be because I am still on Christmas vacation.  As such, I am laying in my bed, clad in flannel pajamas with a torn pocket (sexy, right?), hiding behind my computer, surrounded by my current book, Country Living Magazine, a spiral notebook and pencil (doing some research for my father), my dog and San Antonio Business Journal's 40 under 40 issue watching Joaquin Castro on CNN.  And I feel so underwhelmed with myself it is ridiculous!  (Yes...settle in, it is going to be one of THOSE types of blogs!)

You know what...I am not going to finish this post.  Or, at least I am not going to go in the original direction.  Yes, all these people in the SA Biz Journal are roughly my age.  Yes, I know a few of them, know "of" a lot of them. Yes, Joaquin is on CNN and yes, he and I are the same age, as well.  No, I am not in business (although I would like to be and have a katrillion ideas) and no, I am not in politics so I am likely not going to be invited to The Situation Room anytime soon.  And YES...I want to whine about why I have rested on my laurels for 37 years and I also want to tell you that I now know WHY I have rested...instead I am going to say, "Hell Yeah, 30 somethings!" 

And...I'm done.  I've got some more thinking to do.  A lot of thinking to do.  

What would I do if I weren't afraid to fail?

PS...Just read that my "idea" which needs funding is not eligible for Kickstarter.  Okay, regroup! 

Click here to like Fete on Facebook.

Click here to follow Fete on Pinterest.

Click here to follow Fete on Twitter.

On the Eve of the Eve

Wrapping presents to Neil Young is probably not the best idea, at least not for me.  But I can't seem to make my finger click away from Neil tonight.

Funny thing...I forgot to log out of Pandora on a friend's iPad.  That friend had a party last night and didn't recognize the stations and so began deleting them.  I gave my friend a really hard time about it and indicated the grievous error could be remedied with a bottle of champagne.  I am not sure if my friend thought that was at all funny.  In fact, I am not sure my friend understood...at all...why seeing my Neil Young, John Prine, Tom Waits, John and June Cash, Merle Haggard, Grateful Dead, Patty Griffin, etc stations gone from the left side of the menu bar mattered so much.  I didn't realize how upset I would be either...or why for that matter.  

I grabbed a glass of wine, tucked my feet up under me and thought long and hard about why a mistake literally put an ache in my heart.  I didn't like the answer I came up with.

And so I sit here on the eve of the eve...a mess of upcycled, recycled, earth conscious gifts and trimmings in front of me like a jumbled mess.  I imagine tonight my heart might look like a similar mess of jumbled up recycled feelings I thought I had left out at the curb in the big, blue recycling bin.

The heart is funny....and so completely devoid of cognition.  It just feels, it doesn't remember, it doesn't judge, it doesn't condemn, it doesn't yell--at least mine doesn't, it forgives, it forgets.  I mean, given that...it really is a lovely organ (or notion of an organ).  The heart is a child in the backyard doing for the sake of doing, feeling for the sake of feeling.  It is free from constraint.  It is Christ...it is God.  

And yet, tonight night my heart does not feel Christ-like, which is a true embarrassment.  If ever my heart should be forgiving and forgetting...it is on the eve of the eve.  But it isn't...and I am not.  I still feel hurt and I still long for precious times gone by listening to Neil Young at 4 in the morning.  There...I said it.  And I just breathed...a big, huge breath...and a tear finally has permission to stream down my face.  

I had managed to escape the Christmas blues this year.  I think it is because I stayed 2000% busy until yesterday.  The quiet has been overwhelming and the stillness has been frightening.  Maybe the heaviness of the outside world has finally seeped in.  

God...I am so beautifully human, aren't I?   Thank you, God, for sharing with us your son.  Because of your grace I can sigh and cry and feel tattered and bruised.  I can hate myself for feeling this way and then hate myself for feeling guilty about feeling this way.  God, I am listening to The Beatles right now and several phrases seem relevant to you and me..."I am amazed at the way you are with me all the time.  I am amazed at the way I really need you.  You right me when I am wrong.  Help me sing my song."

Lord, on the eve of the eve....please help right me when I am wrong and help right me when I've been wronged.

Off to bed...shake these wicked blues off for a very special birthday party, tomorrow!

Half The Sky

I've been complaining about something.... A LOT....lately.  I've been consumed in this complaint and in myself and feeling victim-ish and generally deflated.

The Universe is so very brilliant sometimes...well, all the time.  The Universe has a way of holding a mirror straight up to your face at the most perfect moments possible.

I've had Half the Sky waiting in my DVR list for over a week.  PBS seems to be running it at very obscure hours (hmmmmmm?) and I've had to set the DVR in order to watch the program.

Source

This evening, I sat down, in the comfort of my home, in a brand new fluffy bed, surrounded by all the belongings my education, my profession, my career allow me to have and I watched women half way across the world die trying to give birth to babies because their genitals are so mutilated they suffer horrendous after effects.  They also die from complications related to pregnancy that are simple to care for because health care is not even a consideration.  I watched young girls sold into sex trafficking simply because they were born into it, as were their mothers, grandmothers, etc.  I heard a woman say she loved her man, they all loved their men and their men only lived to beat them.  And if they weren't man enough to beat them, their brothers would.  And when she tried to go home to her parents, they sent her back because being "beaten" is just part of being a woman in their society; it is expected.  I saw a young lady yanked out of the ONLY hope she had, her school, in order to move to another village where she would certainly become a sex provider.  I saw a woman who was beaten, repeatedly, to within an inch of her life and expected to serve 20-30 men A DAY...A DAY!

I've been complaining about something.... A LOT....lately.  I've been consumed in this complaint and in myself and feeling victim-ish and generally deflated.

Reading that opening line disgusts me tonight.  It becomes particularly more disgusting when I consider one woman who almost lost both her eyes in a beating is now the leader of a village of women and their children where they are trying to set up a society of their own by creating beaded pieces of high queen art.  I saw a woman, who is still a prostitute, hand over her daughter to an activist who educates young women...because THAT IS HOW MUCH SHE LOVES HER DAUGHTER!  Her daughter intends to become a lawyer.  I saw women turn 50 cents into a small empire through micro financing.  I saw a nurse-midwife, herself the victim of genital mutilation, open a hospital for women who suffer sequela of mutilation.  She also delivers babies under oppressive circumstances.  But beyond that, she has taught local women to become midwives and advocates against mutilation.  I saw a woman, living with HIV, supporting five children through her work as a seamstress.  And each of her children are successfully enrolled in school.  

I've been complaining about something.... A LOT....lately.  I've been consumed in this complaint and in myself and feeling victim-ish and generally deflated.

Really, Patty?  Really?

From the moment I open my eyes until the moment I fall into bed I am living the dream.  Truly, living the dream.  Are we better, are we smarter, are we more deserving than any of these women, these people, our fellow brothers and sisters? 

No, we are just luckier.  

And do I take that luck for granted?  You bet I do.  

But, tomorrow, will be just a little bit different for me.

I fully intend to purchase the book Half the Sky just as soon as I hit "publish" on this post.  As a human, on this earth, we owe it to each other to be informed, to be aware, to be empowered and to be a force for change.

Source

I've certainly got a lot of thinking to do.  I am going to watch the other two hours later this week.  I would like to inquire about the products created by these women.  If I receive any information I will share it forward.

Click here to like Fete on Facebook.

Click here to follow Fete on Pinterest.

Click here to follow Fete on Twitter.

Be The Earth

Monday through Thursday are a blur.  I don't know why, but I am having to work really hard to remember anything about the beginning of this week.  The one exception is the amazing time I had at Meg and Justin's house on Monday evening.

As we know Thursday rolled around and I was emoting and finding my compassion compass, again.

Friday isn't terribly clear, either.  I remember what I wore and that I was late for work so I took my makeup bag to work and applied a quick face before I had to "face" any of my co-workers.  There were a lot of meetings and I was on auto-pilot.  Information overload.  I sat in the back and journaled.  I WAS LISTENING...it's just I am an excellent multi-tasker.

Upon arriving home I switched on the local news.  I RARELY do this as it is mostly just sad.  I saw the "first" student I ever really connected with (14 years ago) being hauled into jail for calling in a bomb threat at the airport.  That was the breaking point.  His mug shot, his image, his story...I couldn't handle it.  I broke down.  I called my mom.  My dad brought me fajita tacos.  I curled up in bed and cried.  Even Mary didn't like me.  She refused to cuddle with me and kept giving me the butt end of her body. Nice, right?  I realize, at this point, I have left my make up at work.  Thankfully it is the ONE Saturday out of the school year the school will be open.  

Saturday morning I woke up two hours late.  I left the house with wet hair and arrived on campus to put make up on, introduce myself to my classroom neighbor (who was diligently working...legitimately working...unlike me) and made a quick trip to Barnes and Noble to purchase Najla and Kamilah birthday gifts.

I can BARELY keep it together in the children's book section.  Why?  Who knows.  At this point if someone breathes wrong I am liable to shed tears.

With little time to waste I am annoyed by the "wait" at the check out counter.  I place my purchases down.   I am "coyly" checking out this issue of US Weekly when I hear the man checking me out let out a noise of frustration and annoyance.  He looks at me and says, "The computer just kicked me out of the system."  Jokingly, I replied, "Oh...I was wondering what I had done to offend you."  And I laugh.

He says, "I am never offended."

I say, "Oh yeah.  I guess I don't offend easily, either.  Instead I just get hurt.  That's my problem."

He says, "I am Buddhist." (I knew this...he was dripping in the beads of his beliefs...but in a really lovely manner.)

He goes on to say, "The Buddha told his son, 'When you are feeling upset, sad, etc. just be the earth.'  So I tell myself, 'Be the earth,' if I am feeling offended."

"The earth?  Why the earth?  Tell me about that."

(A huge line is forming behind me but I don't care at this moment.)

"Yes, the earth.  Think about what we do to the earth.  We urinate on it.  We defecate on it.  We vomit on it.  We treat it poorly.  Yet we can plant a tree in it and treat it well.  The earth knows no difference.  It just 'is,'."

Crickets from my side of the counter.

"Would you like your items in a bag?"

"Yes, please."

Huge score at Half Price Books today.  (Yes...I am always in a book store or around books or on Amazon.  It's a disease, I tell you!)

Still in shrink wrap...I don't care that this costs 30 dollars.  I am listening as I type and I feel really smart and really cool and like this moment belongs in a movie.

In loving memory of Michael Roman Morales.  Happy Birthday to my angel with really big wings!

Click here to like Fete on Facebook.

Click here to follow Fete on Pinterest.

Click here to follow Fete on Twitter.