the spirit of the child

 "the secret of genius is to carry the spirit of the child into old age, which means never losing your enthusiasm"

-aldous huxley

what if the spirit of the child is damaged, wounded, and hurting? then what happens? am i condemned to carry this weight for the rest of my life? optimists tell me that i do not have to carry it. i can offload the dead weight of pain and hurt, surrender it, relinquish it, and forget about it. but the more i "unload", the more comes up. it's like i've been purging for quite some time and i'm not done yet. and i am so tired... tired of waking up with a headache, backache, joint ache... everything hurts. is this reality from here on out? no wonder my mother used to tell me "mirtita, don't get old". getting old sucks! i can't remember the last time i woke up with a purpose, with a desire to get out of bed and do something fun. these days i open my eyes and wonder why am i still breathing? what could i possibly do today that is of any consequence. i have no desire to work, no desire to go for a walk or even move. i get up and i have coffee. that's it!!!! no desire to do anything else. what else is there to do?

later...

i'm still tired... tired... tired, but after i'm done posting this i'm going to take my achy tired butt to the "y" and move around for a bit. something has got to change!

Holy Spirit, move me... stir me... and thank You because i know that this is all part of the transforming  GOOD WORK You are doing in me. LOVE YOU!!!!

walking in truth

 this morning i read, "there is so much power in walking in your truth". it causes me to think about the identification, measure, and definition of truth. i have spent so many years pretending and conforming to other people's standards yet nothing rings "true" for me.

i have taken aptitude tests, personality tests, horoscopes, spiritual gifts tests. i notice that some of it sounds familiar but it doesn't quite fit. so, i do not have an objective definition or measure of what is true for me. 

there are some things that i can identify as true for me. let's see, i am...

• creative
• intuitive
• compassionate
• passionate
• intelligent
• educated
• wise
• emotional
• transparent, to the point of being invisible
• fluid, yet deliciously thick and richly dense,
  
  
  
  like sweet foam on top of dark fragrant strong coffee

this is not who or what i aspire to be. this is who i am right now, without apologies, explanations, or justifications. i am navigating this terrain. at times it is dry and desert-like, other times a muddy slushy bog; mostly mountainous with meadows in between. ah, but there are those precious moments when i find myself on crisp cool sand, taking in the salty ocean breeze, bathed in sunlight, hearing the voice of God in the surf, and i sing along with it. 

THAT is when and where i am most free to be me. in that moment i do not merely exist. in that moment, i am. in that moment, i am one with the great I AM. it is a sacred moment, an experience that i relish, that i long for, and hope to be in for all eternity. i am at peace, sated, satisfied, grateful, in love, and being loved in its most pure essence.

so, i am writing a pledge with myself to leave behind those conventions that do not ring true for me. if something or someone is not healthy for me i will respectfully and caringly thank them for making themselves available, but i will not partake of them. at this point in my life i can choose my family, my relations, my tribe, regardless of biology, genealogy, faith affiliation, or belief structure.

THIS IS ME... now;

...tomorrow, perhaps there will be a different me, and i can't wait to meet her.

time for a lament

“Consider now! Call for the wailing women to come;
    send for the most skillful of them. 
Let them come quickly
    and wail over us
till our eyes overflow with tears
    and water streams from our eyelids.
 The sound of wailing is heard...

 Now, you women, hear the word of the Lord;
    open your ears to the words of his mouth.
Teach your daughters  how to wail;

    teach one another a lament.
 Death has climbed in through our windows
    and has entered our fortresses...

Jeremiah 9: 17-21

Let me cry out today, and for as long as i need. this is not  a season of celebration. this is a season of lament. we are being inatentive and disobedient to the divine call to lament, to cry, to mourn, to consider, to meditate, to breathe, to sigh, to moan, to rage, to heave, to lay on the ground exhausted, trembling; eyes swollen shut and red from crying; throats raw from sobbing and screaming. this is the posture i am embracing. i choose to wait in this lament. i choose to wail and rail against injustice, denial, apathy, complacency, comformity, complicit silence, oppression and suppression. 

i am tired of looking at pictures of forced smiles that don't reach the eyes; tired of hearing about how busy families pack as much activity as posible into their schedules to appear productive, well-rounded, and happy; tired of activities geared to "celebrate unity in community" yet further segregate the marginalized or the invisible; tired of entire sections of the US population being subjugated to tiranny, abuse, exclusion;

tired of legalized and institutionalized bigotry - especially in the name of religion and justice; tired of selective memory; tired of historical fragmentation and documentation to suit our own interpretation of events... i am exhausted...

and yet, i come up with one more breath, one more primal scream, one more tear, one more lament, one more hope that THIS is not all there is; that there is more, there is a better tomorrow; that there is a collective consciousness of love, peace, wisdom, healing, freedom, strength, righteousness, and justice.