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Heartsick this morning over our cruelty as a nation.
Where would we be without the ability to laugh,
and the artists who tell the stories?
It is true that Mitchell and I both live with the knowledge of being guided by an
unseen hand. We’ve both been “taken are of” most of our lives.
Love this Thomas Merton quote though I edited it a bit. Here it is in its entirety:
“My Lord, I have no idea where I am going.
I do not see the road ahead of me.
I cannot know for certain where it will end.
Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following
your will does not mean that I am actually doing so.
But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you.
And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing.
I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire.
And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road,
though I may know nothing about it.
Therefore will I trust you always, though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me,
and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.”
©D. Katie Powell.
My images/blog posts may be reposted; please link back to dkatiepowellart.
Parker Palmer, writer and activist, became known to me through his writings
about depression. I find him grounding and thought-provoking. His thoughts on the current state we find ourselves in are most comforting:
“How do I stay engaged and whole on the shadow side of democracy? I’ve been putting that question to my soul, and the response has been unnerving. It seems I’m being called to become a “patriot,” a word I scrapped years ago when it was co-opted by the “God, Guns, Guts, and Glory” gang. But a passage about patriotism by pastor/activist William Sloane Coffin — who spoke in the voice of the soul — has me looking for ways to reclaim that word for myself:
There are three kinds of patriots, two bad, one good. The bad ones are the uncritical lovers and the loveless critics. Good patriots carry on a lover’s quarrel with their country, a reflection of God’s lover’s quarrel with the world.
What would it mean to have a “lover’s quarrel” with my country right now, animated by the fierce love my soul would affirm?”
My images/blog posts may be reposted; for this post please link to dkatiepowellart.
Tired, overwhelmed. I think of the WestWing episode where the man is sitting
in the bar with Toby and he says he doesn’t mind working to care for his family,
that it is a good thing, but just a little help would make a huge difference.
Just a little help, a little relief. For things not to quite be this hard and more,
this hopeless, at this time. Tonglen helps, breathing in the world’s sorrows and fear, sending out a breath of hope, what I sometimes don’t have any of because it is all so overwhelming. I have a bit of comfort knowing that others feel the same.
Be kind. If you have nothing but vitriol coming out today then turn and walk away.
People are feeling this way all over….
KWZ Foggy Green ink in a Metropolitan pen, and pencil.
Back to daily journaling. How does one get to inner peace?
A family member (NOT Mitchell) was mad and has yet to work it out with me.
I needed to work it out myself, didn’t want the energy swirling around in my head anymore, and so painted and wrote about it in my Endings and Beginnings journal.
I find getting things out on paper is almost as good as working them out in person in
one way — Mind keeps running it around and around then you put it on paper and
it is as if it says, “Okay, said that already, several times in several ways” and shuts up.
It doesn’t take away the hurt — that may take time — but it stops monkeymind cold.
Mad, meaning terribly angry, not a small tiff, is akin to madness in so many ways.
You lose your mind, and if you don’t come back then you have possibly lost it for good (?).
Mad is a closed heart. Mad is staying in your monkeymind.
Mad is not allowing tathagatagarbha to reveal itself.
Mad is forgetting you love the one in front of you, even if you are pissed.
From a post on the Lojong:
“Tathagatagarbha is the seed of awakening present in yourself, or, the Buddha within. Mine dwelled in the woundings, which was covered up over many years of defenses and booze, and knee-jerk reactions. It was vulnerability, a soft spot, and in a world of defended angry people, it was hard to let that soft spot lead.”
This family member stopped at a well-developed ego and never let go to explore
how letting that soft spot lead was a good thing, and would not kill him.
He is alive so I won’t publish what I wrote. It is my only rule.
I see the smiles of familiar faces on Sunday morning, I feel their hugs and I ask…
What if we hugged our neighbors and strangers and those in pain instead of pushing them away?
What if we said a cheery “hello” to everyone we met instead of a passing nod and mumbled “harumpfff?”
What if we live to serve others rather than serving our own vested interests?
What if we always smiled at everyone who crossed our path?
What if we followed our faith as it was meant to be instead of how we want to mold it to our ideals?