Belief

Here is a  basic list of the things human beings believe in:

God ( generic)  For agnostics everywhere and those afraid to stick their toes in the atheistic lake.

Jesus—-several varieties, take your pick.  There is the bloody guilt inducing Jesus, the liberal “I’ll sanction anything” Jesus, the repressed stiff upper lip Jesus and of course, the vengeance Jesus.

Allah

Buddha

Mythical Gods and Goddesses from an archaic time.  Think along the lines of faeries,elements,  pan and any nature spirit god. Oddly these deities were blanketed in superstitious darkness but fully lit with a psychological and philosophical understanding that was very sophisticated for that period in our human history.

Lucifer

Aliens

Money

Botox

Fame

Praise

Sex

Crystals

Spirit guides

Angels

Saints

Work

Fashion

Science

Drugs

Peta

Environmentalism

The moon

The stars

The sun

Love

Hate

Power

Why do we human beings need and want something, anything to believe in as a deity or power over our lives?  Are we that afraid of personal responsibility that we continue dragging around this dead horse of religion or even worse, the modern religion of ‘things’ as gods?  Each one of the items on this list have propelled us forward until we surpassed our need for it and moved on to the next development of self and spirit and what it means to be here on this planet. If we are constantly moving toward a true awakening, are we now moving beyond science as a god?  Are we so terrified of our true nature of birth to death, that we would create so many stories to pretend it away?  What if the truth is better than anything we can concoct? What if the explanation is to be found in the cycle of all life on this planet and that death of the body as the end of life is a myth itself?

Stuff To Tell You About And…

A poem from moi.

First:  My friend Amy Sue Nathan has some fiction up at: http://www.jscribes.com/bubbe-and-the-iphone/

Second:  D has written a thinker of a poem here:  http://utopianfragments.wordpress.com/

Now, for my poem, which was actually inspired by D’s poem

Reflections

When I smile and look in the mirror I see every person I love

When I laugh and look in the mirror I see every person who appreciates fun

When I look in the mirror with a frown I see every bitter person I’ve ever met

When I look in the mirror when I’m crying, I see every person who has hurt me or who I have hurt

When I look into the mirror blankly, I see every missed opportunity I had to make peace with another

The only mirror that really matters to me, and the only mirror that tells me the true condition of my soul, are the eyes of my daughter.  So far, the reflection is pretty good.

A quote from Jacqueline Kennedy Onasis:

“If you bungle raising your children, I don’t think whatever else you do matters very much.”

For one who never did belong to another soul

There is freedom in loneliness

For one who was never given much

There is wealth in small things like a warm bed or a cold glass of water

For one who was never told the truth

The honesty between the lines of every lie is sacred

For one who never had support

There is security in the shifting of each day and the turning of every tide

For one who was ignored

The attention to detail is proof of life

For one who was injured deeply

The world will always provide the person to reopen the wound just as it starts to heal

For one who was discarded like trash

There is a need to hoard everything of value

For one who was persecuted

There is never enough justice to balance the scales

For one who was imprisoned

There are no bars but those in the mind that are without a key

For one who was never loved

There is nothing else that matters, not breath, food, money, shelter or success.  Just a constant quest to fill the lack

47 years  =  564 months

47 years  =  2 452.34048  Weeks

47 years  =  17 166.3833  Days

47 years  =  411 993.2  Hours

47 years  =  24 719 592 Minutes

47 years  =  1.48317552 × 10⁹ Seconds

47 years  =  1.5 Billion heart beats (give or take a few flutters, murmur stops and terror thuds and thumps)

47 is the 15th prime number

47 has a movement dedicated to it being the quintessential random number.  The 47 society,  is  connected to Star Trek through one it’s members who was a writer for the program,  and it’s subsequent appearance in movies and television is due to his introduction of this fascination for the number 47.

47 is the telephone code for Norway

Stephen Kings house number is 47…I could go on, by why should I deny you the superstitious and joyful curiosity of trolling the internet yourself?

Oh, as of today, I have been on this planet for 47 years.  Of course, if I died, they would say I was in my 48th year, but hey, why split hairs or years for that matter.  There aren’t as many years as hairs, so why rush when you brush?  Found a lump, going to remove said lump, lump better not be cancer.  Advice:  Always self exam girls.  Always.  It’s important. Never dismiss anything as nothing.    Now, if you read this, go out and eat something terribly tasty and absolutely bad for you.  I know I will.  ;)   Now if all that isn’t poetic, what the hell is?

Results

We all want results.  Everyone has a horror story of not getting the results they want.   Ever shout at someone on the phone because you can’t reach the one person in the bureaucracy who could help you?  Ever flip the bird to the driver in front of you because they didn’t turn in time and now you’re stuck at a red light?  Ever try to put together a toy or furniture, only to have your good mood make a descent into the bad mood of curses and frustration because the instructions are wrong?  Ever stand at a grocery store checkout for a half hour only to have the debit machine go down when it’s your turn to pay?  Of course you have.  So have I.  But today, I was lucky.  Today I got results.  Good results. The cyst in my breast isn’t the big C.   I’m beyond grateful and relieved.   Isn’t it fantastic to breathe and laugh and love and bicker and tangle and sing and dance and just live?  Utter bliss is what it is, utter bliss.

The Decision

On Saturday I wrote a post about rejection letters and some middle reader fiction I was preparing to resubmit.  I was rewriting  a cover letter and preparing to address envelopes, but I felt defeated and packed it in for the night.   All this past weekend and well into today, I played mental ping pong with myself:   Should I send it or should I keep it?

  I’ve toyed with the idea of self publishing more times than I would care to admit, and it’s always in relation to this story.   It’s not that I feel it can’t be published or accepted by a publisher,  because I do.   The question for me is this:  How long is this going to take?  Time matters to me a great deal.  I’m not twenty anymore and the days march by like the pillagers they are.   I want my books to be read NOW.  Not ten years from now, maybe,  if I can manage to garner a publishing deal and if the economy recovers and if  I’m alive and well and of sound mind to actually nurture it on it’s journey to the reader’s little hands.   Sometimes waiting is not an option.  

Today I learned that a lovely woman of my acquaintance passed away.  Yep, it was cancer.  She was only fifty two and her passing made me both incredibly sad and  very grateful for my life and breath.   I’ve been very  mindful of my mortality lately.   Everyday for the past month I’ve been trying not to think  of that breast test I have on the 26th.  I’ve been down this road before and I no longer flinch at the thought or suffer night sweats and panic.  I’ve been lucky thus far.  Dysplasia, lumpectomy, no big C diagnosis.  It’s just that every damn year they find something on the mammogram and off I go for more poking and prodding.  Because of this, I’m making a decision to take that lovely story I’ve written for children and self publish it, purchasing the ISBN and marketing it myself.  It’s time to let these characters leave my nest and fly free  to other homes with children who love to read and dream.  Will it be a success?  It already is.  Will someone buy it?  Yes.  Will I make a million?  Who knows?   I don’t really care, because it’s not about that, it’s about the love for the words and it always will be.