Let This Be Your Prayer…

Someone shared this video with me today.  It struck me as worthy of sharing.  I invite you to view this and share your thoughts and feelings on the content.

It’s a Wonderful Life

Ashtora

Saying “good-bye.”

Opening Statement:  As a family, our efforts to continue to include you as family, reach out on behalf of your well being, and to enjoy what remains of you were met with hostility, disdain, disrespect, hatred, malice, use and abuse.

Body of Information:  While we understand that your actions are probably beyond your control, we found that we could no longer abide them or continue to put ourselves in harm’s way.

Bringing it All Together:  While we all continue to wish you well, and enjoy memories of the short time you were sober and not using, we’ve left you behind and will not look back.

Inspired by Wonderland & Other Starving Artists

Today,  while looking for courage in my hot, black liquid brew and listening to an older Carolyn Wonderland interview, I googgled the words, “Unemployed, Starving, and Stuck,” where I found a somewhat different take on life in “Kokes Notes.”  Here’s one of the more inspiring thoughts from this blog:

So here’s to the life of a starving artist! Only it’s not a physiological starve. I’ve found there is no such thing as an anorexic artist. Not only do you lack the energy to pick up a pen, paintbrush, or instrument, but the arts are reflections of life and refusing to eat is an invitation to death so it just doesn’t work. The starve of an artist is one of ambitious yearning in the midst of mystery.

What happens when you don’t have a steady income is that you can’t afford the distractions – the ones that keep you from concentrating on your dreams or the ones that screen your imagination, or most importantly the ones that fuel your reckless vices. You start to see signs. You start to appreciate what you already have. You start to trust your gut feelings.~~Kokes Notes

After being awestruck by Little Red Elfinghood Wonderland for years, as she visibly dances with her muses, and thanks to the eloquence of  “Kokes Notes,” I now realize the guts it takes each and every day, to keep concentrating on your dreams in order to be the artist you are becoming.  What an artist Carolyn is.  No distractions.  Only her music.

Because of you, Carolyn Wonderland, I’m willing to just be with my muses, just be the starving artist for as long as it takes, because nothing else matters.  Think of me and others like me, who are looking hard to find the guts it takes.  You’ve got it all.

Emotional Bankruptcy~~Eclipse of the Heart~~How to Recover

Have you ever declared emotional bankruptcy?

Have you ever known someone whose cynicism caused them to claim total eclipse of the heart?

Without a doubt, we can crash our heart on life’s curves, and repairs can take some time, but to become permanently emotionally unavailable, to proclaim, “I’m broke,” or “I’m broken,” deprives us of opportunities to experience love in new, delightful, fulfilling ways and forms, from the most unexpected sources~~that may be just the “deposit of love” that our broken hearts needed to get back in the black.

With your patience, I’d like to offer this autobiographical situation as an illustration:

A few months ago, while driving my car through an intersection, another driver ignored the traffic signals and drover right into me, causing my neck to whip right and then left, bashing the left side of my head on my car’s door frame.  A concussion resulted, effecting my hard earned mathmatical skills and my lifetime of musicianship.  Soon after the accident, I discovered that I could no longer perform simple math, much less advanced algebra.  An even more devastating moment occured when I sat down at the piano to read a new piece of music and found that music was now a foreign language to me.  When I tried to execute compositions I had been playing for longer than memory served–that my fingers had known on their own, I learned that even the memory of my fingers had been damaged.  Music had been ninety percent of my life since I was a toddler, and my livelihood since age twelve.

While I couldn’t expect to make my living as a musician for a while, I turned to other skills for income and began lovingly retraining my brain.  At first, crosswords were like Greek to me but I conistently applied myself to working them in order to cause my mental synapses to fire; everyday, I turned my attention to redeveloping my musical abilities, whether it was singing, playing the piano, or playing the marimba; everyday, I apply new patience to working out mathmatical problems, and find creative ways of enticing both hemispheres of my brain to remember, to use unused cells, and develop new neuro-pathways. [for more on how the brain works, read Jill Bolte Taylor's book, Stroke of Insight. www.mystrokeofinsight.com]

My result thusfar, of not declaring musical bankruptcy or wallowing in despair over losing a lifetime of personal and financial investment?  In the process of renewing my musical abilities, hiking and climbing have provided strength and coordination; in learning to ride and care for horses–I’ve developed relationships with these creatures who always daunted me before; writing and blogging provide hours of entertainment, pleasure and income; nature has revitalized my senses and my joy; AND I’ve developed the ability to accompany my singing on the marimba!  A small trio wanting to be a quartet heard my voice and invited me to join their ranks.  Needing some way to learn the music, I picked up my mallets and began picking out the tune and in a few days, I was singing and playing a simple melody.  While no one would pay to hear me, this progress is priceless to me and I’ve found a group of musicians that I actually add to!

How much I’ll ever regain?  Unknown.  How much I’ve gained?  Immeasurable.  How much is yet to come?  Infinite possibilities. 

If I had declared myself musically broke or broken, I would have deprived myself of untold opportunities to experience love, music, life, people, nature, animals and even myself in new, delightful, fulfilling ways and forms, in the most unexpected ways~~that were just the “deposit” that my broken heart and life needed to get back in the black.  Instead of getting smaller, my life is greatly enlarged.

No deposits, no withdrawals can be made on an account that’s been closed.~~A.

A spoon never tastes the soup…and we can miss out on tasting life if we don’t become porous…[Dr. Jim Rigby in http://itsawonderfulife.wordpress.com As Great As We Are...God Loves Other People Too!]

When we’re broken, to declare “bankruptcy” closes our account.  While no withdrawals can be made, neither can deposits be applied or interest earned.  Being broken calls us to enormous courage that begins simply, with the willingness to have courage…to take the very next breath, the very next thought and the very next step. {for more on willingness, read Carol Creel’s stories at www.lifeworks-marketing.com] 

If you’re a soul feeling broken beyond repair, I hope that in this, you find the encouragement to be willing to keep some little part of your empty, broken heart open to being repaired and refilled.  Especially when you feel that you have nothing to give, find something that you can give, no matter how seemingly small or insignificant, knowing that in your willingness, in your giving, you’ll find the courage and you’ll find the gift.~~Ashtora, 2008

[for more on hope and healing read Anna Miller's book, Mania.  Madness. Miracles. www.thedepressionproject.com]

[for more on love and wisdom, listen to Dr. Jim Rigby's podcasts from www.staopen.com]

Little Love Notes, “Make Me A Cake.”

Some of the most tender moments of the heart can produce the most meaningful love notes.  One recently shared with me, from a wife and mother of six to her husband, follows:

I THINK IT’S TIME YOU LEARN TO USE THE COMPUTER AND WRITE ME LITTLE NOTES AGAIN.
I MISS YOU. THIS FAMILY IS MY ENTIRE WORLD AND I WOULD NOT BE WHOLE WITH OUT EVERY MEMBER ACCOUNTED FOR. I LOVE YOU AND ALL OUR CHILDREN AND I DON’T CARE HOW MUCH YOUR PAST RUBBS ME WRONG, I KNOW EVERY BIT OF YOUR PAST CREATED YOUR PRESENT! TRY TO EAT THE INGREDIENTS TO THE CAKE WITH OUT MIXING THEM. YOU HAD TO HAVE A FEW RAW EGGS AND SOME BAKING POWDER. TRY EATING THOSE ALONE… YUCK! BUT IF YOU MIX IT ALL UP AND COOK IT A BIT THEN YOU HAVE A YUMMY CAKE. SO MAYBE I DON’T LIKE ALL THE PARTS IT TOOK TO MAKE YOU, BUT MIXED UP AND COOKED YOU SURE ARE YUMMY!!!!! OH YA AND ADD FROSTING TO THAT… SINFUL!

XOXOXO

Small Things~~”If We “Do Not Find Our Roots In Nature, We Will Perish As A Species”

Small Things for The Humility of Christ podcast see http://itsawonderfulife.wordpress.com

In listening to Small Things, a call to nature with spiritual and practical instruction on organic vs. mechanical,  we are invited to allow Tao wisdom to enrich the parable comparing the kindom of heaven to the small little mustard seed when surrendered to the soil, gives birth to a magnificent tree where the birds of the air come to perch upon its branches, given by Jesus.

If we do not find our roots in nature, we will perish as a species…If we do not return to these roots, our children will live in a poisonous world.~~Dr. James Rigby, Small Things, 2008

Speaker, Dr. Jim Rigby, though a minister and pastor of a Presbyterian Church, in Austin, Texas, says he loves Tao scripture, that it helps him to understand what Jesus was saying, so much more deeply.

Though Jesus uses images from nature frequently, Jesus spoke mystically insists Rigby.

It’s very, very important not to take the Bible literally, because you cannot understand the mystical and also be literal.”~~Dr. Jim  Rigby, Small Things, 2008

With his passion for humanity resonating in every word, Dr. Rigby pleas with us to find the truths of our own being, to learn:

…we are not the frightened little creatures we think we are…we need to know and feel from the inside out that we are children of nature…we are the world…as natural as a tree.~~Rigby, Small Things, 2008

Rev. Rigby also urges us to “let life support us,” “let the mountain lift us up,” “to integrate every human activity within the balanace of nature,” proclaiming that “there’s only one Balance.”

Rigby reveals that every day, some Bush activity takes his breath away; but, leaves us with this encouragement:

When we look at life organically, no matter how bleak the present [moment] may seem, we always have a seed we can plant for the future.~~Rigby, Small Things, 2008

You may find this podcast, that invites us to wake up to our Unity with All of Life, to open to the depth of life, and to realize we are the One, worth listening to, over and over again. ~~Ashtora, 2008

Thank you Rev. Rigby for your passionate love for humanity and all of nature…for helping us to recognize our unity…to recognize the great in the small.

Visit  http://www.staopen.com/podcast/index.php in order to select other podcasts by Dr. James Rigby or others who have spoken at St. Andrew’s Presbyterian Church in Austin, TX.

 

Dr. James Rigby

‘Mr. Monkey’, ‘Ms. Hortence’, ‘Mr. Bunny’ and Other Puppet Friends Downsize Heady Sermons for Children of Austin’s Wells Branch Church

“Hello, Girls and Boys,”  “Hello, Everybody,” Hortence the horse puppet (Marilyn Rucker), in her high lyrical voice greets the congregation, young and old, of St. Andrew’s Presbyterian Church, in Austin, TX’s northern Wells Branch community.  Three master puppeteers interact with additional puppet friends, using engaging dialogue that conveys deep messages of how we can live in ways that bring God’s love, justice and mercy to our families, our communities, and our planet.  Both children and adults gain a simpler version of the sermon teaching to come.  Puppet conversations range from the whimsically humorous to the wildly hysterical–prefacing the Rev. Dr. Jim Rigby’s lessons with laughter and tears.  What a wonderful way to open the hearts of those about to embark on sacred ground.  Thank you, St. Andrew’s for the gift of loving, powerful entertainment that teaches us how to live.–Ash

THAT’S NOT LOVE, “Pastor Rick Warren”–GO DEEPER

While Joan Walsh concerned herself with the merits of our nation’s current Presidential Candidates, I was more stunned by Rick Warren’s–who, by the way, is not MY pastor–obvious participation in a Republican setup, and his apparent lack of credentials, character, integrity, and authenticity, in stark comparison to the Reverend Dr. Jim Rigby, who stands out in any convention of religious leaders, regardless of how “mega” their churches are–including Joel Olsteen, the pastor of what I believe to be the nation’s largest “mega” church–The Woodlands, in Houston, Texas. 

For a nation searching for answers, who might be turning towards religion and religious leaders for guidance in finding their answers, I just hope we don’t give up, dismayed by the belief that “Pastor Rick” is the best there is because he’s written a best seller and has built a “mega church;” and I would challenge “Pastor Rick Warren” to GO DEEPER.  Love doesn’t give or impose upon others your own answers, but rather equips them with the tools they’ll require for digging and discovering their own revelations–and challenges them to do so.

Before you give up, feeling there is no authenticity, integrity, genuine love and leadership left in this world, try listening to the mentor I found over twenty years ago.  His genuine humility, compassion for all of humanity, instinctive rudder for navigating through the darkest, most troubling waters, and integrity, even when facing the most daunting of circumstances, stand out and loom large over the televangalists of this world.  I speak of the Reverend Dr. Jim Rigby, pastor for more than 25 years, of St. Andrew’s Presbyterian Church, Austin, Texas.  He’s no televangelist.  He never gives answers.  He teaches map making and navigational skills; he helps equip you with the shovel and pick you need to ferret it out for yourself.

Reverend Rigby has devoted his entire life to answering the question, “What is truth?”  Beacause one cannot discover truth without first knowing the right questions, his pursuit of truth led him to a life of studying everything that purported to be truth.  He’s shared his studies with those who attend this small neighborhood church of St. Andrew’s, also in search of truth.  Dr. Rigby knows more about what he’s talking about, than anyone I’ve ever met or heard.  His words and opinions are based on thorough research, not ignorance or vain opinion.  Though small, this church’s membership has continuously been comprised of genuine, authentic people with open hearts, open minds and open arms; for me, it is the most MEGA of all churches.

The Reverend Dr. Jim Rigby has left his indelible footprint on my life and I believe his messages and teachings leave their mark on all who are privileged enough to hear them.  Listen to this one, and see if you agree.  http://www.staopen.com/podcast/Rigby_0810.mp3

If you would like to hear more, visit the podcast index of his recent messages.  http://www.staopen.com/podcast/index.php

St. Andrew’s Presbyterian Church’s website is located here:  www.staopen.com

Warning:  If you want to be told WHAT TO THINK, don’t go here.  If you can’t hold up to having your ideas challenged; if you’re not willing to go deep into your questions and issues, don’t go here.  You will not be placated here.  These teachings will challenge you and your beliefs beyond what anything else has ever accomplished.  Proceed with caution.

[Note:  This blog, by far, represents the boldest, most opinionated I've written.  The recent televised religious interviews prompted this.  I suspect that as a result, there will be more.  I welcome your comments and conversations.]

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“How’s Your Lovelife?” or “…Only Trouble Is, Gee Whiz, I’m Dreamin’ My Life Away.”

Not Getting Any Younger

As a self-proclaimed expert on Love, what it is and what it is not, I know very little about the opposite sex–men.  I’m only a woman, age 53, not getting any younger, whose life has worked out pretty much to her liking, except for men.

Actually, my relationships with men have been consistently satisfactory, except when it comes to love.  My employers, my teachers, mentors, son-in-laws, friends, brothers, and especially my father have all been paramount to my experience as a human being; so, how is it that I’m such an “expert” on LOVE, but my LOVE LIFE is only history?

I have been IN LOVE, but never IN LOVE with the one man I’ve always wanted to love and wanted to love me…you see, I’ve only met him in my dreams.  I’ve been dreaming of him for years.

Sometimes he’s younger, sometimes he’s older.  He’s been white, he’s been black.  There have been times when his face was never revealed; yet, he’s always the same tall man with a genuine soul, a great mind and an even greater heart.

His heart and his integrity are always unmistakably visibly etched in his face; his strength in his arms; the warmth in his touch; and the gentleness in his kiss.  He’s a man whose largeness of capacity to provide for his own well-being and the well-being of family, friends, and community feels like being wrapped up in a star, loved just as you are, and carried safely home–whether near or far.

He’s a man who belongs to no one, yet to everyone.  He’s his own person, yet always available whenever needed.  He’s longed for me for as long as I have him.

I may never know him, except in my heart of hearts and in my dreams, even though I do find a little of him in everyone, different parts in some than others, even a little in myself; but until I do find him, I’ll continue to dream, dream, dream.

Sweet Dreams.

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Death & Dying: Dangling Priscilla

Have you ever seen an disabled person suspended in mid-air–somewhere between heaven and hell by a HOYA ?  It’s the stuff my nightmares are made of.  I dangle Priscilla, a ninety year old invalid, by day and see nightmarish visions of her by night.  The real nightmare is hers.  She can’t take it anymore…she mumbles over and over during her daily ”danglings” that transport Priscilla from her bed to her wheelchair and back again…day in and day out.

Life forced upon her, Priscilla dangles, kept alive by a feeding tube and a catheter–in one bag and out the other; visiting her husband of over 60 years for several moments or several hours at a time, determined by various factors effecting her tolerance and tolerability.

By day, I dangle her in suspension between wheelchair and bed; by night, I see her dangling in her HOYA Sling, suspended in vast Universal space, between heaven and hell.  With her mouth drooping to the side and agape, painted in bright red lipstick, short lime green hair spiked, body useless and limp, Priscilla hangs in her Royal Blue sling, slumping to the right, utterly helpless and defenseless…at the mercy of everyone and everything…sometimes aware, but mostly not…this is my nightmare.  Could the flames of Hades be any worse?

A few weeks ago, she asked me if I was going to shoot her.  I looked her in the eyes and said, “No, Priscilla, not today.”  With a look of shock and surprise, she actually managed a lopsided smile and said, “I like you, you’re funny.”

More recently, Priscilla spoke out loud, “I’m so lonely and so bored…”  But now, she can barely mumble, “I can’t take it anymore.” 

I’m ready when you are Priscilla, because I can’t take it anymore either.