Tag Archives: God

Today is November 7, 2014. I am alive and well.

I pray. Not at an alter, but at my bedside, in my car, in the restaurant restroom, in the employee bathroom. All good places for prayer. The one place I can think of that I don’t pray is underwater in the pool. Prayer is breath for me. To run out of breath as I pray doesn’t appeal to me. I confess, though, as a kid underwater, I use to pray to become a mermaid. I would have full breath underwater.

Prayer to me is like an open envelope. I can fill it with glitter and then seal it. When I need the creative spark of glitter, I can open the envelope, throw it into the air, and marvel at the sight. Of course, I am then responsible  for vacuuming the carpet.

Prayer is an action word. Simple prayer, “God please help me.” Then I get up from my knees, and do what God would have me do. How do I know if I’m aligned with God? By how I feel. By the ease with which I participate in the day. I am a crayon coloring between the lines. I am a blank piece of paper allowing colors to splash me awake. I am a little beetle surfing the neighborhood on a green leaf.

The possibilities for prayer are endless. It is best when I pray for someone else; someone who’s ailing, someone who I am upset with, wishing for her to receive all the good things that come from a life well lived. And my favorite prayer is “God please rid me of self.” When offered this, I have vision. I can see the cacti from my bedroom window and know they cannot hurt me as long as I don’t touch them. I can listen to a person in pain and have compassion, with no need to tell her it will get better because both of us know it won’t; different yes, better no. I can smell life; it is buttered toast and a cup of coffee. I can taste life; it is shampoo I use in my hair. Prayers quiet my mind. It is good to put on my glasses.

Today is October 31, 2014. I am alive and well.

Does a broken heart ever heal? Or do we simply move on, glass at our feet, ever reminded to wear shoes? How long before we can actually go barefoot? I know “how long” is different for everybody. I am still wearing shoes, although I have found new love. One man doesn’t replace the other; it is more a continuum. Things moving forward in an upward spiral is much better than things moving backward with one stone being heaped in a pile of other stones. The stones are the weight that brought death to VIrginia Woolfe, an amazing writer, who walked into the water never to arise again.

I had a pile of stones, and then borrowed a power drill from God, and turned the stones to dust. This dust, although bagged by me, sometimes shows up on my skin right before a shower. I have a continuos love for Guy, my ex, but have climbed into that upward spiral. This doesn’t mean I have left Guy behind. Quite the contrary. Guy taught me I could love. My forgiveness of him, my love for him, continues to fuel my life. I know I have love for Mark because I have love for Guy. I’m really at a loss as to how to make sense of this.

My love doesn’t compartmentalize itself. It is free flowing energy that is increased by loving many. However, Mark is the prime beneficiary of my love. I don’t wish to return to a pile of stones. Life continues to surprise me. I glow in the shadow of elms. At night, when all the shadows have been eaten away by the dark, I thank God for both Guy and Mark. Having love twice doesn’t fatten me. I feel light. My spindly arms are not frail and reach for…well, I don’t know exactly what. But it’s ablaze, I do know that.

Today is September 5, 2014. I am alive and well.

Poem for your pleasure…..I hope

When the World Turns Blue

There is little to look at outside of water. Black Converse sneakers laced to the ankle begging to meet the earth halfway between the dream and a next step forward. The next step forward is hard as stale toast and as necessary as lips. Lips blow horns, blow trombones. Saxophones. Keep food from slipping past the teeth. Console. Welcome. Say good-bye. Sensuality. Sweet. So sweet. Even chapped they will whistle. Lovely. Remember this when the next step forward places you below water and you need a straw to breathe with. And the moon rolls around the track in a fifteen minute mile. Slowly. I float head above the water. Breasts. Midriff. Thighs. Knees. Shins. Imagine black Converse sneakers. Imagine God wearing black Converse sneakers in one of many incarnations. Imagine God.

Today is August 22, 2014. I am alive and well.

I experience God when feeling light headed. The doctor would tell me it is because of low blood pressure and I might want to consider drinking more water. Well, I drink a gallon and a half of water a day. I take a galloon to work and am teased by Sid saying I am drinking vodka. I haven’t drunk vodka for thirty two years.

Experiencing God is like standing barefoot on hot stones on a December day. At first, I’m afraid the hot stones will blister my feet. But the cold has become unbearable. The heat moves up my body and explodes in my brain. Nothing else exists for that moment. The cold spirals away. And then, I smartly head for the hall in the house where I can find a pair of shoes and a jacket.

God is love, but what does that look like? A woman at Pet Smart let me go ahead of her in line because I only had three cans of salmon compared to her cases and bags of food. That was an act of kindness. I used Strato’s name to than him for bagging my groceries; using his name implies “I am more than just a bag boy.” Trish and I worked out this morning, high fived each other when done, and said I love you. She has my back as I have her’s, and God is in this mix.

I can’t believe I’m sharing this….when I finally get my bra hooked, I thank God for the help! Why not bring God to small things?!

Today, the darkness of indecision and anxiety does not attach itself to my wrists. I was my hands with Ivory. After the bubbles, the water runs clean.

For all of you who are atheists, I hope I don’t offend you by mentioning God. I just want to let you know that one of my favorite people is atheist and is one of the most spiritual people I know. I understand, you don’t have to believe in God to be spiritual.

I do leave you with a quote however….says Flannery O’Connor, “Only God is an atheist.” I find this interesting to think about.

Good cheer to all.

Today is June 21, 2014. I am alive and well.

What if reality is an illusion and we are really walking around in a dream? It seems to me if this were true, we wouldn’t age. There would be no time. There are many books, though, that spend hundreds of pages making a case for reality as an illusion.

What would we gain if moving in a dream? As far as my brain can think this morning, I say nothing. Not only would we not age, but there would be no health issues. And we know that we do age and there are many health issues. Maybe if in a dream, we would be able to relax more. Feel the warmth of the shower beating on our back anytime we need to. Smell the soap. Revel in the steam.

Is God true reality or a part of the dream? I believe God to be true reality. I know this seems paradoxical. I have never physically touched God. God has never physically touched me. But I know God to be there just as I know my little dogs love me. God exists in the unconscious and conscious mind. I can sense something beyond thought.

Consider love. Isn’t love beyond thought? My niece and two nephews visited me at the library, my place of work, yesterday. Before I could think, I was enveloped in love. Adrenalin pumped through me and the feeling left me floating as if in a dream. Dream meets reality and the reality is love. I believe God to be love.

I think I have challenged my brain enough this morning. It is the weekend. I hope you all have a wonderful couple of days.

Today is May 19, 2014. I am alive and well.

I feel like I’ve been mentioning God quite a bit. I have a deep spiritual connection with something larger than myself that allows for coincidences and deja vu. God also helps tame my fear, which is often times out of contral. But I don’t want to lose followers because of talking about or mentioning God. So then that brings up the question of who do I write for.

I know I write for myself, but because this is a blog and not a journal entry, I am also writing for an audience. A blog is a broad thing, larger than the expanse of an eagle’s wings, larger than a shelve of books, and maybe as large as a dictionary. Because of this, I”m not certain of my audience.

I am not religious. By stating that does it mean I am losing followers? I do believe in God. By stating that, do I lose atheists? I have many friends that come form many different spiritual experiences and even religious experiences. The religions include Judaism, the teaching of Islam, Catholicism, Buddhism, Wiccan, and the Metaphysical. Oh, and I almost forgot to mention Atheism.

I do try to be as inclusive as I can because I believe the world ought to be inclusive. There are plenty of roses stripped of their thorns to go around for everyone. Hell, I don’t even mind a bit of thorn as long as it doesn’t harm my core.

My core is what I try to offer my readership. It is what I like to read of others. There is something to truth telling that is mind boggling. More truth, more light. The dark isn’t a bad thing, it’s simply a moment waiting for batteries. There too is truth to be found in shadows. A shadow can be a lovely thing; think of paintings and chiaroscuro. Think to what fun it was to first note as a kid your shadow following you, or even your shadow leading you. Light, dark, shadow–there is a place for all of it. A grand place for all of it.

Today is May 12, 2014. I am alive and well.

A few of us go on Oprah, say God is Love, and make millions. Than there are those of us who are fiercely convinced God is Love without a dime. I work in a library. I can’t tell you how many books there are spouting spiritual beliefs. And usually, it all comes down to the same thing, God is Love.

It baffles me that one person’s beliefs make the New York Times Best Seller List, whereas another person’s beliefs remain at the side of the bed where she just got up from praying. Some of us write. Some of us don’t. I guess it’s just in the way you type God that makes all the difference. Is God more powerful in Times New Roman than in the font Arial Black?

I do believe that things are as they’re supposed to be. Those who make millions on writing about God, are suppose to be making those millions. Those who say “I love you God” from the side of their bed are suppose to be given ease and comfort and a fiercely peaceful heart.

It is good to know that loving God for a dime is equally as powerful as loving God for a million. And I do believe that those who make a million loving God, would give up their millions if they could only find ease and comfort and a fiercely peaceful heart in loving God for a dime.

A little girl loses control of her red wagon in which she’s seated and says “help.” God hears this regardless of her age, race, class, gender, and makes certain she lands in the grass rather than slamming into the brick wall. The little girl may not know God yet, but she will remember that saying “help” helped.

There is a power out there. I hope you find yours even if you believe the power is internal. Atheists have might, also. Atheists can be in awe of the world just as the priest bending to light a candle.

My house is not distraught. It is comfortable with dust that settles on its floor. Dust holds my condo to the ground. I don’t want to be Dorothy caught in a tornado, the wheels of my bicycle with no traction other than air. Air has no traction. In such an instance, the bicyclist is at the mercy of God.

I believe God keeps us gently tethered to the earth. It is still possible to soar as I have said. Even desirable. But the landing will always be welcomed after a night spent drunk on flight.

How drunk can one get in the midst of birds and clouds and the twinkling of stars? Quite would be the answer. My little dogs are not to be found in flight. I need to return to them to make certain they have enough water and food and love.

Shake off the flight. Land gently on the ground. Pet my little loves. Their tails wagging like a metal rooster caught in the wind. Guy is here, too. He locks on to me when I am dizzy. My medication and flight leave me dizzy at times. I have never fallen with the love he has for me. All should be loved as  much as the need for macaroni and cheese. All should be loved with the guarantee that the moon will never fall. The sun will always wake. And the ocean holds handfuls of water.

Today is March 20, 2014. I am alive and well.

I just finished a book called Waiting, by Marya Hornbacher. It is a Nonbeliever’s higher power. In other words, Marya is an atheist with an amazing belief in the spiritual. I am not an atheist, but I found the book to be really engaging, and as I said, spiritual. It helped me understand my atheist friend a little more, and my friend is absolutely one of the most spiritual people I know.

Excerpt from book 2, currently untitled–

The gray is slipping from my mind. I have yet to jump into the pool in my dream. My sleep is disturbed by the call of the psych tech announcing medication time. It is morning. The Haldol caused me to sleep through the night. I wake as if there are dimes on my eyeballs and gravel in my mouth. The gravel tastes of mint. I have no idea why. Mouth wash is not allowed on the unit because of its alcohol content. I wish to go back to the pantry of my mind. Instead, I am forced to stand. Spirit pushes me out of bed. All days to Spirit are moments of possibility to meet God. Spirit promises to take me with her. We will one day meet God together. In the meantime, I can pray for vision.

Thank you for your readership.

Today is March 15, 2014. I am alive and well.

excerpt from second book–

True paranoia is me thinking the government has picked my ticket and are on their way to get me. They will use me rather than a rat to experiment with different kinds of shampoos and cosmetics. They will keep me in a cell, water me down when I smell, and feed me apricots. Only after watering me down will they test deodorant on my skin. I will be released and return home after my teeth have rotted from unmarketable toothpaste. I don’t want to qualify this line of thought with a psychological tag, but I will. I think the docs refer to this as delusional thinking. It doesn’t make it any less real. A delusion is a false belief I believe to be true to the core of my being. My medications work so well that I do have reprieves from this kind to thinking. Worry will leave me if I deep breath and allow my Spirit to attach herself to God. Shadow bickers with Spirit at times, but Spirit is the stronger of the two.

Thank you for your readership.