Thursday, December 27, 2012



Years ago. A girl, mother of two boys, finds herself carrying a third child. She is still so young and lost. She doesn't know that the decisions she makes today will carry with her for her lifetime. She thinks whatever happens now will be left there by the side of the road with no way to find it’s self back to her.

A man. He is the man whose seed implants into her body to form the baby she is now carrying. He’s older by 8 years. He knows that the decisions you make now will carry with you for a lifetime. He cannot let the world know of his imperfection. Had his sin have been an infected limb he would have cut it off an buried it. It was not an infected limb. It was a baby out of wedlock. He tells her that she can have the baby but he’ll take it away or she can abort it. He’s done it before; taken a baby from it’s mother’s arms.

She won’t let him have the baby. It’s better in her mind to release the soul of the unborn baby back to it’s origin than to let the man, standing before her asking for it’s death, take this child . She won’t let the man have the child she loves. She doesn’t know how people spread their legs to take a child out of their body but she raises all the strength she has and lets it happen.

She goes home and cries for the child she allowed to be taken from her. She turns cold to touch. She cannot let anyone into her space. It’s better to keep people at arms length because allowing people to care for her hurts so much. It feels much better to not accept care. She goes through all the motions of being a loving mother to her other children but any love given to her is put in a little box that she keeps but never opens.

More than 20 years pass and she never thinks about what happened with the baby. She left those thoughts by the side of the road she thinks.

She walks into her meditation spot and has a seat one morning. Sitting there quietly she remembers back to Christmas day. After taking her youngest son back to his apartment she is about to leave and she hugs him and kisses him on the cheek. In her meditation she thinks on this and what a big step it was for her. She generally just kisses her sons goodbye. Hugs always make her uncomfortable and she assumes it is because her parents did not hug her when she was a child.

During the thoughts on the hug a baby/toddler appears to her wearing a lions costume like she is having a dream. It feels like the child comes out of her thoughts and stands to face her almost nose to nose. The baby giggles and walks away. Her mind goes completely silent and empties like a black screen. She has a feeling that this was her baby. She decides she needs to name the baby, something in all these years she never did. A thought comes back to her, “Marley.” She says to herself, “no I would never name a child Marley, it has to be something else.” Then a thought comes back to her, “this soul is Marley and I was never yours to name.” Then the word “vessel” pops into her mind. She knows what this means. She was merely the vessel for which this soul fulfilled it’s reason for taking form inside her body in this lifetime. It occurs to her that even when she thought she left that decision on the side of the road more than 20 years ago she has been holding this soul with her all these years. This morning they said their goodbye. In the darkness of her mind that was still so empty she said to herself, I’m letting you go but I just want to pretend to hold you for a second and she did. With tears pouring down her checks she let that soul she carried with her for all those years go, knowing now it was never really hers to keep.

Wednesday, December 26, 2012

the bright shininess of hope


As I write this post I’m still searching for the words to say this in the most effective way without offending those who I’m presuming to know the thoughts of. Here it goes one way or the other.

I was meditating and this occurred to me, partly because I just saw Django yesterday and partly because I was having one of those moments of tranquility.

This all got me to thinking about tiny bits of hope/freedom/happiness. I thought about how during the days of slavery there still must have been moments that those who were enslaved must have felt tiny bits of peace. How do you endure the kind of torture these fellow human beings lived through and still find a way to carry on each day? There had to have been ways to get yourself killed or to kill yourself to finally end the abuse but they found a way to live everyday. I wondered if maybe there were parts of their day that they were able to have hope or feel peace. Maybe the walk to the spring alone to get water. Maybe a night listening to the rain on the roof. Maybe after a particularly cold day to finally get next to a fire.

I expanded this notion to include POWs. These folks must have had moments they felt at peace or how could they survive? You could expand this whole notion out to include numerous people who’ve endured horrific circumstances.

Here is the reason for this post. Think about all of the people who have survived terrible abuse and injustice and how they must have found times that they knew peace even in the worst of it. Then think about how everyday you have access to knowing peace throughout most of your day yet you can only see what’s ugly, what’s negative, what’s not going your way. Your day is mostly wide open to see with love, peace and hope. You aren’t having to try to find a moment here or there in between abuse/torture/injustice. You have that opportunity every second of everyday.

Tuesday, December 11, 2012

tomorrow is the big day


I am so ready. I have to work tomorrow (thought I was taking off but couldn’t) and I’m going to be so rushed. B is sick with a crazy cough and right now he is beside me trying to sleep it off. We just realized that B has rehearsal for his show tomorrow night but at least it’s not till 8:30. Everything that could go wrong is going wrong. Who knows by tomorrow night I might even be sick. I swear I won’t let it stop me. This all sounds like I’m down about the whole thing but I am not. I am thrilled. I’m excited. I can’t wait till my managers meeting is over in Mt Juliet tomorrow so I can get home and get it all started.

I’m going to talk about this experience a bit. What a crazy thing. I would never have guessed that so few people would be interested in celebrating Peace, Love & Happiness. I guess that is why the world is in such a mess. Folks think peace is for dreamers. They don’t really believe it exists. Next time I think up something like this I’m not going to tell anyone why I want them over. I’m gonna tell them to come over for a get together. I’m gonna say, “We’ll have food, lots of Christmas lights, a fire, sky lanterns, lots of singing and dancing around the fire and we’ll just act like a bunch of half crazy people.” That is exactly what we are going to do. I think most folks would be up for all this but say that we are going to do it in the name of peace and love and they think you are a half crazed hippy. I don’t even care about that. I just hate that folks are going to miss out on such a fun night.

It’s been my experience that when it seems everything is going wrong and you just push through there’s often a sweet surprise in the end.

Good Night Friends.