In this most unusual election year, could we navigating these rough waters as a result of nature’s storm, trying to regain a balance of gender power–of which we almost dare not speak? (Shhh..I mean nurturing.)
Until we are able to complete our mission of being that peace, our work on this planet remains unfinished.
*Our local community chorus is privileged to have been granted permission to perform Mark Hayes’ beautiful message in song, as part of our upcoming concert, Peace. (This is the YouTube version.)
Words and music by Mark Hayes
Based on a quote by LAO-TZU (6th c. BC)
©2017 Mark Hayes Music
Pretend: the wonder of a child…
Embracing moments of joy and living with the eager anticipation and assurance of more joyful moments to come…
Until I had experienced enough living to equal about 120 childhoods, I hadn’t been able to understand Jesus’ famous words:
“I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever humbles himself like child is greatest in the kingdom of heaven.” (Matthew 18:3-4 NIV)
The word pretend originated from the Latin word meaning to stretch forth and claim. Personally, I would like to reclaim my childhood wonder. How about you?
I should probably attribute this next concept to someone, but I have now seen it in so many places and credited to so many philosophically-minded folks, that it has created my own confetti-like words in the wind:
For every enlightened soul who has shared what seems like plausible meaning-of-life wisdom, followers have convened to claim ownership and to construct their own air-tight rules. The result is always the same: destruction of the real grains of wisdom. (I am speaking of religions, political beliefs, cultures, traditions, work ethics…all of it.) In fact, just by writing this, I am restricting your understanding. And that is why Jesus’ parables were so brilliant: we can’t know exactly. We can only hope and trust in something that is similar to what Jesus described during his short life.
Here is my personal little childlike box of confetti that, tonight, is what my picture of the kingdom is like. I can assure you that if you asked me tomorrow, it will have even more confetti. (Apparently kingdom boxes work like that!) Furthermore, I am quite certain that we all gather our confetti differently.
The beautiful confetti of children:
(Job speaking to the Lord) Surely I spoke of things I did not understand, things too wonderful for me to know. Job 42:3
When I try to make sense of something or prove to myself that I have made the best decision, I tend to go a little crazy. The kingdom of heaven is like my world-within-my world. It’s the one I cannot hold onto firmly, because if I try, it disappears. It’s a little like staring at a star: if you look directly at it, you can’t quite see it anymore. When I can just pretend…when I can just accept that what is happening in each moment is simply my next opportunity to find love and goodness, each moment becomes an opportunity to learn. Without the baggage of prejudice (prejudging), outdated information, and yesterday’s advice, we live in gratitude for each other and the resources we have.
Does this mean that learning is pointless? Of course not. But learning anything is never static. Learning creates opportunity and invites childlike awe. If we grab it and wield it like a sword, it just gets old and crotchety. Relationships? New, full of wonder, looking for the next opportunity to find more love. Work? New, full of wonder, looking for more ways to care for, serve, and love each other. Backstabbing competition? Back to old, crotchety, and stinky.
What does your kingdom-box of childlike-confetti look like? It is certainly a challenge to keep it in focus, but when we can find others who are humbling themselves to the point of discovering their own gossamer confetti-threads of childlike wonder, finding the laser-like focus doesn’t seem so impossible anymore.
As always, your views, experiences, and comments make us all richer. Please share!
This may be the shallowest, most nonsensical thing I have attempted to shake out of my laptop.
Today was a day without writing. I’m missing my high-board jump into my bubble-bath of words.
For the past ten weeks or so, I have poured out things I thought I knew, things I thought I understood, things I have tried to see through others eyes. Today, nothing. Today, I think I didn’t think. And that was the thought that sparked my comfort-zone of consciousness off the couch.
When even my simplest words haven’t been extruded and examined, I feel as though I haven’t really been here. My eyes, searching up and left (as they always do when I’m trying to get the synapses firing) snatched the day’s random images: the golf shot that I should have been practicing mentally, the synchronicity of fellow bloggers working out why we feel compelled to validate and adopt each other’s view–valiantly attempting to cobble together our own little soul-groups of security. And stranger still–in our state of nonsensical conundrum–mystified as to why our soul-group is so different from theirs.
At the end of the day, I may not know any more than the morning, but through my struggle to feel alive through the demolition and reconstruction of my elementary words, I’m feeling worthy of taking up space again. It’s the old, familiar brain-muscle-burn, feeling satisfied that I have tried.
How about you? Do you experience a free-falling existential angst when deprived of your me-time bubble-bath of words?
Let Gary Debate. (Or, please excuse me, my flag is showing.)
We have a family anecdote that has always reminded us to ask, “Why?”
As the story goes, every Christmas, Aunt Dora would carefully divide her ham into two parts before slipping it into the oven. When her daughter was old enough to ask why, Aunt Dora didn’t really know—it was what her mother had always done. Aunt Dora finally asked her own mother. “Oh, that was the only way I could get it to fit into my roasting pot.”
The Johnson/Weld Libertarian ticket is unprecedented—a new pot. They are common sense, dignity, steady courage, and an adjective seldom heard in politics: compassion. Let’s lift the lid off that old two-party pot: if you are polled, choose Gary Johnson. You’ve not committed your vote. What you will have done is allowed America to hope for something that we had presumed extinct: leadership that we wouldn’t mind our children emulating.
If you are polled, please help us all. Cast your poll vote for Gary Johnson. Let him debate. Let us learn. And think. That will give us a REAL chance to decide. Perhaps our old two-party pot could serve us better in a museum.
And please excuse me, my flag is STILL showing. 😉
Wait–don’t we need to make good decisions?
Sometimes my forays into cautionary tales about being judgmental are met with vehement cries of derision–especially when one’s work hinges upon the ability to make informed and wise decisions. As a teacher, I remember frequent reminders that teachers make upwards of 1,500 critical decisions each day affecting students, parents, schools, communities—well, you get the picture. Teachers are hardly alone in their circles of influence.
My new growth mindset of possibility:
I have come to the place where my most solid assurance is that there is no end: that the conversations go on between all the souls who love each other, living and dead. I have no certifiable proof of this–only that this understanding gives me peace and allows me to maintain open conversations with basically anyone. From a mindset of no end, nothing seems catastrophic anymore; we just continue learning how to love better. That also allows me to allow others’ their own interpretations of end vs. no end. And yet, when I see others in pain, knowing that there can be life here on the terra firma without emotional pain, I suppose that I cannot, in good conscience, stop myself from putting these thoughts out there. (Most solid assurance, after all, is not without doubt.)
Each person comes to their working core truth in their own way and at their own time. When you get to that place, I don’t think that you never want to leave that solid foundation. You just build from there. I would love to know what you think: have you reached a meaning-of-life that works for you? If so, how has it affected your interpretation of judgement?
Decisions, words-meanings, and relationships
So, the building: we humans have our gargantuan task of working out the fabric of meanings that fashion our relationships. Our life-raft relationships that we build despite the raging oceans of our many languages, cultures, contexts, values–all of it, might be secured or destroyed upon the interpretation of a single word: judgement. To me, judgement can mean allowing a relationship or dismissing it.
In my opinion, our interpretation and application of the difference between judgment and discernment is worth mindful consideration.
Value of souls vs. value of physical matters
Claim: Judgment addresses the value of a person. If we can accept that we are all differently-gifted for our own unique life’s purpose, every individual would have equal value. We each contribute to the whole in our own way. I see it as the value of one’s soul and worthiness to take up space, to be heard, and to be loved.
Claim: Discernment, according to conventional interpretation, is based upon what can be observed: objective matters. (Granted, there is also a Biblical application of the word discernment, which may or may not integrate well. This would probably also make for a good discussion!) I discovered an article published a few years ago (2011) in Psychology Today. It was written by Dr. Raj Raghunathan, who explains it much more eloquently than I. Here it is again:
What do you think? What determines the difference between judgment and discernment for you? How does that kind of distinction play out in your daily living?
Love, ❤ ❤ ❤
This year, autumn is reminding me of spring.
In my hemisphere, days are growing cooler and shorter, but there is a new part of me that feels like spring has arrived.
Wrenching oneself away from the world of the concrete, absolute, and scientifically proven can be a little unsettling at first–like flying solo for the first time.
Whether you have caught a glimpse of this dramatically different life through a church, your personal research, a coach–it doesn’t matter. Once here, you don’t want to leave. And, there is an unspeakable joy in the immersion and connection with others who have allowed themselves access to authenticity. In authenticity, we are daring to live greatly in a community of higher consciousness. Here, together, we begin to sense the vibrations of the universe itself. Here, we begin to grasp the personification of passion.
Even though I was raised in a traditional church, thinking this openly is new for me, too. As long as I am able, I will continue to join with others–maybe even you–as we connect deeper and more richly than ever. Jesus did his level-best to help us understand his Kingdom. Let us never attempt to limit our openness to the wonder of creation.
Extricating oneself from a negative past of bullying, abuse, neglect, and/or trauma is cause for celebrating every moment that feels like spring. If you’re still trying to find a reason to celebrate, I’m doing my best to help you start on StarfishMission.
The website from above ( 21 Symptoms of Spiritual Awakening – LauraMarie ) is the result of a simple Internet search of “what happens when you open your mind to possibility”. I’d love to hear if you have or are experiencing any of the “21”.
FYI – the linked page is in English, most of the rest of the WordPress website for its 5 million followers is French. 🙂
He says he may be leaving soon.
His eyes weigh heavy on my heart. I order my carry-out comfort food: hot and sour soup.
They say that creativity rushes in with healing memories, seeking to repair the wound of a truth, excised upon its diagnosis: an alien malignancy.
My fortune-cookie wisdom explains that we replace our God-given faces with the faces we make of our own. Continue reading “Wisdom of hot and sour soup”
Apparently my bully-ish thought-stream decided that a raging waterfall would be more appropo tonight. So, here goes…
Earlier today, I discovered that bully was, originally, a 16th Century term of endearment for a friend or lover (spelled boele). You’ll have to hang with me here to follow my spaghetti-brain logic. Continue reading “Bullies: just longing for Boeles?”
My risk. Your gain.
I am probably taking a big risk with this post, but I am just going to say it. Parents have the power to eliminate bullying. Furthermore, it must be accomplished before children even set foot in a school.
Studies dance around the issue, because empirical scientific methods are geared for testing a limited sample and a single variable at a time. It will always be a limited sample, even if it is a meta-analysis. Researchers must always leave the door open for further studies to be conducted. That is the scientific method, and science will continue to gather evidence interminably.