Totally different view

so i'm sort in a state of writer's block these days, really more thinker's block if you will. staying way out of the zone where the brain is always churning stuff up and spewing out really brilliant reasons why everything is the way it is. i was sick for ten days this month. in the past three years, i can only remember being sick one time enough so that i actually had to stay in bed for only one day. and suddenly--in my 10 big sick days i probably stayed mostly in bed for at least 3 of them.

here's the thing(we're back to the thing again folks) i got sick because every night for the past few months when i went to bed my brain would kick into high gear, like it was the first time all day that it had a chance to get my attention. so it would jump into front and center mode and start unraveling the day in majestic proportions.(no sleep until about 3 in the morning every night turned into really bad cold and flu, hacking, coughing up a lung,)
i literally felt like mugatu and i had taken some crazy pills together. of course i haven't done anything half so grand as invent the piano key necktie or anything like that, but my brain kept trying to come up with the solutions for all of the seemingly very grandiose problems that were circulating in my life. even as i was fully aware and choosing not to rely on my old patterns of ego and mind habits to solve the situations that arose, my ego was really refusing to play along with that decision and so because i kept on telling it no during the day, it would kick in every night as i laid down to get some sleep. i ask you to try and imagine what it was like to drift off into deep slumber, all the while having craziness of the likes of will ferrell jabbering in your head about some ridiculous accomplishments that mean absolutely nothing in the long run.

wow, did i just totally ramble on without ever coming to a point there? what i mean to say is i have been really opening to operate from a soulspace point of view in my interactions and only calling on the tactics of ego as a tool. because my ego has always been the tool in the driver's seat, it doesn't like getting put into passenger mode and so the inner struggle kicks in at night when my defenses are low.

i came to an awareness this week that shifted the struggle. i have been on the offensive with the ego; going to the depths and heights of my being seeking the places it inhabits and trying to cast it out. such an offensive has literally created a warlike interior in my inner psyche--i picture it sort of like antibodies rushing around my blood, cleansing all aspects of foreign material. these little workers aren't recognizing that the foreign body is a gestating fetus(no this does not mean i am physically pregnant, but spiritually birthing a new me) and rather than trying to cleanse the foreign body, i am becoming aware that it is possible to incorporate all these pieces of me to become a greater whole. seems a very small awareness doesn't it? bringing ego and spirit into league with eachother, but the small shift in approach has amazingly changed the outer feeling.

my brain has finally settled, recognizes a way to be instead of do , and this just flows hand-in-hand with the soul part of me that rises to the surface to be authentic and conscious . it's as if i have finally learned to "turn right" , when before all i could give the world was a brilliant flash of "blue steel", i have finally opened to allowing the essential and stunning view of "magnum" as well. it's exactly the same and yet, a totally different view.




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gettin' jazzy with it!!!!

sometimes things people say just really send me into a hissy fit of hysterics. there i am about to "spit take" my barely chewed granola and yogurt all over their chatty face and they don't even know what it is they have said. one such phrase has made its way into all-time classic status for me of late is anything to do with "jazzy". how is it that we can use a phrase like, "i was feeling seriously jazzed when i heard that new song", or "that whole new spring line just makes me feel jazzy" with any hope of a reply any more serious than "i know my whole body goes into jazzmodic orgasm when i even hear a hint that neil diamond is putting out a new album", or "i could seriously just get up and dance at the thought of the new faux leopard prints at nordies this year"?

perhaps my opinion is skewed, but let me give you the story and you tell me if i have any choice but to laugh...a year ago on my birthday, it was a full moon and very close to midnight; a whole group of my very "goddessy" friends had gathered at the local swimming hole for a full moon salute, if you will. we were giggling and shivering and dunking and diving with all the joy of any group of nubile young otters (mind you the goddesses ranged from mid-twenties to forties and all sorts of body types, but full moons just have that power don't they?)

somewhere about midway through the watterlogged event one of the nymphs told the group a work story and in all seriousness used the phrase, "i was so jazzed". we all hit a moment of silence, did she really just say that? we laughed and teased and cajoled with greater and grander renditions of the phrase until we finally came up with the "jazzy challenge"--all this in the middle of the pool. each member of the group left with the assignment to use the phrase in public, in earnestness...the more people you said it in front of the more credit you get...and if you use jazz hands then you win the challenge--hands down. then we moved on with the night. the challenge went underground, some of us forgot it, some made a half-assed (smirk) attempt to slip it into the convo--and then word came...

one of our party had used it at a board meeting, in front of around 20 people, she stood up and using the jazz hands let the whole board know she was "so jazzed" about this latest program. how do you even top that without losing your cool right in the middle of the statement?

well this week my "jazzy challenge" has reemerged with a vengeance. i have spotted the use in three separate blogs, these people were not at the full moon celebration, they never received the jazz hands challenge, they just spontaneously fit it right into convo...

one of them in reference to a dance pic he was riffing on...

For anyone who knows anything about Jazz dance trivia- I'm sure you recognize the 2001 National Champions, and five-time Seriously-Jazzed Award winners, Soul Fortress…. Yes, these girls had it all- the fame, the fortune, the spandex, the Little League All Star boyfriends…. It was a true Cinderella story for this rags-to-riches squad from Caramel, Montana- until Marlie Sofer stumbled through the hotel room door, that fateful November night……

find the whole rif at casey's myspace (beware this one has graphic language and photos-link at your own risk-those who can overlook such things will find a good bit of writing and laughing)

the next i found in reference to the political process...

· It's amazing how something so incredibly exciting and inspiring can begin to take on all the charm of root canal surgery in the space of an hour; AND YET
· I am actually jazzed, in a totally politi-dork way, about getting to go to the county convention; HOWEVER
· There is no way in hell I'm going to let myself be nominated as a state delegate/alternate.

and finally, in a friend's blog about a new movie theatre in ethiopia...

I’m jazzed there is a theater in town, but disappointed that the worst of American “pop-culture” will most likely end up showing on its screens being viewed by the few Ethiopian elite who can afford to see a movie. For the average Ethiopian the cost of admission (45 birr, 5 usd) is more than they earn in a month.

so apparently, "jazzed" is the new "seriously" use it with wild abandon people, i know i will.
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"Creative Expression" or build a bear

i have found myself talking a lot lately about a bit of wisdom that was recently presented to me by my mom of all people. i know, funny that we should take anything that our mother says seriously, but i've just got a mother like that--she says a lot of great things, and when they aren't so great, there's even good stuff to read between the lines.

she's been doing this personal, inner work business (again, i know funny huh? that a blogger like me should have a mother like that?) and working with a community of teachers for a few years. having finished up a bit of learning she felt inclined to share, and i suppose that inclined me to learn. she had a lot to say and i'm sure there were other bits of wisdom in there, but the takeaway for today is about finding yourself stuck in a problem...


i can't tell you how many people, friends and near strangers, i have talked to in the past few months that have some seriously big stuff that can be described quite clearly as a problem in their life and they feel absolutely stuck, not knowing how to how to get out of it. this is not a finger pointing game, i have definitely felt this way about a few huge obstacles that sat right down on my heart and solar plexus mid-winter, refusing to budge until punxatoney phil poked his head out and meant it. what i have been utterly thrilled about is this new piece of learning and how it shifted the monstrosity right off my chest and allowed me to shrink it to a little treasure box size--the size of a thing i can take out of its place on the shelf and look at, deal with, comprehend---and take or leave as something that has any drama in my life, rather just very valuable learning that i am glad to ingest for the gift it is and move through it, with it, on with life.

so here's the gist of the thing...when faced with the energy of being stuck in a problem we are faced with a few choices
1. if stuck, choose to be still or move
2. if in relationship, choose to move towards or away from the relationship(love, business, teacher in school, taxman, whatever)
3. move into problem solving mode or creative expression (the idea being that the brain that got us into the problem in the first place isn't the thinking place that can fix it, and engaging the brain in creative expression shifts the brain waves that are even being triggered and solutions start to flow)
hello, this is such a simple model and seems a little too simplistic to actually work right?

all i'm saying is give it a try, when you feel stuck without a place to go to solve the deep shit you find yourself mired in--move towards creative expression!!!! it shifts mountains that now really do just appear to be molehills, brings clarity in times of turbulence and soothes some seriously tense nerves.

i've had some great interactions with people lately who have reminded me how wonderful it is to express the creative being inside of me. i'm so grateful for those people, showing up to remind me how luscious it feels to be a creator, whether that is dancing, painting, drumming or belly laughing until pants wetting ensues. for all these moments i thank you. i'd love to hear about what forms your creative expression takes...let me know what things work for you


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Whimsery in Action--pay it forward update

Sometime last december i made an offer to "pay it forward"--make some delightful bit of whimsery and pass it on to someone willing to do the same for someone else. i finally came up with what felt like the perfect idea while browsing for just the thing. i found the idea here (you gotta scroll down one entry)and whipped it up with great personal delight. It was a neck warmer--not a whole scarf, much more time consuming and basically we've all been there done the long scarf thing. this was just a tiny little neck muff if you will; and apparently it delighted many others because i sold 3 of them right off my needles before i was able to make one to send for this blog.
.
Honestly, not trying to sell a thing, just bringing my knitting with me to work on and that's all she wrote, or knit as the case may be. Once i was even on the way to the post office with one of my treasures and my friend saw it and decided it was that exact "bit of fluff" that she must have. always one to oblige my friends, i let her have that one and started on another.
i must say, the efficient virgo in me is extremely pleased i am able to use up all sorts of odd bits of yarnas is evidenced by this bright little treasure, which is my own personal favorite and i have managed to keep it for myself--at least for the time being.(not the best of photos, doesn't do the colors justice)

This was the valentines treasure i made to give as a birthday gift a few weeks ago:)

So there's the proof of the craftiness in me and a reminder to my errant cousin, that she must post her pay it forward to receive her treasure.
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Desert Child

This one isn't by me, it was written for me this year by a friend on my B-day. it's sort of been appearing in my dreams lately, and i find that i'm craving another dream in the desert. With the full moon upon me, joined by the lunar eclipse, i am eager for the new energy this dreams carries with it. Nice how a moment taken by another to really see just a little part of me imparts so much meaning. i am as full as the moon...

Your home, you’re home

In the valleys carved by water and wind,

These dry bowls where all bones show

Veins flow and rush to the Great,

Where hewn wheels carved ruts in salt.

From cities of sins to one of saints

To dwellings abandoned save for Fremont ghosts

And Anasazi whispers

You find shelter in the desert

Solace in exposure.

Your skin sparkles of mica, cheeks of quartz

Hair twisting ‘round like gold Mohave’s devils

Heart found huge at a narrow’s end—a

Wide, sun-beating valley of fire.

Hardened like a those of walk-a-bout’s child,

Feet that have led and sometimes followed.

Clear like a nighthawk

Clever like the crow

Laughing eyes open to a long, long path

To depths back and beyond.

In the gorge where the wren’s call clings

Down the cliffs like water,

Where coyote hitch rides on Highway 6,

Your home, you're home,

Desert Child

Pamela Ostermiller 09/12/07

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when the essence leaks right through

a little over a week ago i stood in a room of full grown adults; all of us looking sheepishly around at eachother as we began to breathe heavily through our noses...

and then ever so slowly some timidly began to dance. "was this the start to some strange erotic, orgy-like group ritual"--you may be asking yourself (well i suppose that remains to be seen)? but for the moment it was merely an experiment in "getting cooked"!!

"oh now she's gone off the deep end" you say, "i'm not reading any further", but lest you sign off this downright righteous tome without discovering my topic and going to your grave convinced that my soul will rot in purgatory i urge you to stick with me for a few more lines...there was a time in the history of the world that in addition to getting very still in prayer and meditation to invite a closeness with spirit, or indeed being bathed in spiritual guidance, people from wisdom traditions all around the world used to really get their spirit moving (cooking things up), breathe in and out as if their lives depended on it, and move their bodies like their souls had something to dance for.

"why in god's name would those crazy wisdom tradtionalists do such a thing"? you may be asking
i'm told and am now learning for myself that it was exactly that, in God's name--is why the Quakers did it, in Allah's for the Sufis, it is Brahma, Ganesh, Vishnu and Shiva (among many others) for the Hindus, and the "Big God" for the Kalahari Bushmen. and "what is it exactly everybody's doing?" you ask again. among the many traditions around the world it has been called
Chi/Qi—China Yesod--Kabbalism, Prana--India, N/Om--Kalahari, Tumpinyer Mooroop--Australian Aboriginies and Manitou--Ojibway and the list goes on and on and on

and it is ecstatic breathing, dancing, movement--what has been described by Bradford Keeny, author of Shaking Medicine as "sound poetry, and sound poetry then turns into singing. Shamans, whether they're in the Amazon or whether they're the Lakota medicine people or the Bushman healers, are all about "catching" the songs. Their belief is that the Big God who expresses the Big Love can only share love through the rhythm, the beauty of song."

for our crazy little band of experimenters it was just that, an experiment, a foray into the unknown(surely unknown to us) to see what there was to see. and what did we see there? well nobody fell to the floor overcome with the spirit, no one was immediately called upon to be saved, but what i like to think happened was that we were called upon to remember, remember and awaken to something our wise ancestors knew for generations, centuries and eons before we let our "big minds" get in the way. In the middle of feeling silly, breathing heavy and shaking our tailfeathers one of our number reminisced out loud about the best time he can ever remember being moved by the spirit when it came to music was listening to "in a gadda da vida" the long version. he and his friend danced like wild men for a full 17 minutes...two teenage boys unaware of space and time and self and self-consciousness for almost 20 minutes. As he painted the mental picture for us, for a few short minutes we all returned in space and time to the moments when music, dancing, breathing heavy have truly removed our attention from our physical space and put our attention on something entirely "otherworldly". these are the moments when our skin just doesn't matter anymore and true essence starts to leak right through.

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Now playing: Iron Butterfly - In a Gadda Da Vida
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stars or diamonds? it's all good...

last night, after a long day of playing with kids in a very inspiring(this means mary poppinsish and equals extremely tiring) and ultimate 'auntie' like way i entered my brother's house with feet ever so slightly dragging for yet another family gathering. it was my sister-in-law's birthday, her 40th, not to be missed--a big day for anyone and because that number is getting ever so much closer for me, all the more real.

in a large family like mine, gatherings--especially on a sunday--seem to come around more often than not and sometimes my boundaries pull a full stop and require that i abstain from participating. a house full of children, siblings, guitar hero, jacuzzi water fights and any other number of fantabulous diversions can only go so far into the goodtimes zone some nights when all you want is a little down time, a hot bath, maybe a good book and solitude. but we all don't know what's good for us all the time do we? i really did want to go to the b-day party, i just wanted the downtime as well--and since there's always more time for down, off to the party i went.

i have to admit, i was a tiny bit excited. i actually had an awesome gift to give-- a little homemade delight that came straight from the heart and lifted my spirits just in the making. how great is that, to begin to shift the tired and overwhelmed energy--really just by thinking of someone else with warmth and love as you make them something tiny and thoughtful? why do all those wise sayings of 'find yourself in service' or 'get outside of yourself to find the love' begin to ring so true in this instance? when i gave the gift, my sister-in-law was delighted with it, but i'm not sure that's even what did it for me, it was really in the space where i imagined giving her spirit a gift of myself that i was able to warm the very cockles of my heart. (so funny, actually spotted a tray of 'cockles' straight from new zealand the other day in the grocery store. have you ever even known what cockles were? they're sort of like mussels--but the image is so much more complete for me now. kind of like,if you open them up, they are even shaped like a lumpy and imperfect heart).

the evening progressed, songs were sung, crepes were made, snow angels straight out of the jacuzzi were attempted and overwhelm returned to gray the edges. then a moment of transformation overtook me, and i abandoned my tired ego to the joy of the evening...in the room just off the kitchen, two little girls sang into their microphones with wild abandon!!! They didn't care that adults and teenagers looked on laughing, they didn't care that they had never even heard this song before, they only cared to wrap their arms around eachother and rejoice to 'Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds' !! how can they even read the words fast enough to keep up with the song, much less imbue it with such real emotion? a momentary illumination took my own heart, i questioned this week about just what it is parents are teaching their children, the much more important and very life changing question is ..."what are the children teaching their parents?".


aha, notice taken, joy expressed, and cockle-warming diamonds dancing all over the sky.
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Now would you teach that to your children?

I have this line of inquiry running in my head that seems to reappear with some frequency. i really wonder about the shit we teach our kids and how aware we are of what we want to pass on to the next generation. sometimes my reason for the question is so obvious like "why in the hell is that child dressed to 'kill' at 6 months old, killing doesn't really match with her darling multi-layered pink bow, nor the bubbles that she continues to blow?" but we can't help it can we, the outfit was a gift, it was too precious to pass up, it's funner than playing with dolls...
or "is it really possible that mom and dad are not aware how disrespectful and downright rude their kid is? if he pulls my hair one more time over the back of this booth, i'm going to pull his back"
and "if the boy just wet his pants as you were trying to force him to climb onto the pony's back, is there a chance he might not want a ponyride today? just wondering"
but much more that these painfully obvious things we as adults seem justified putting our kids through because "we had to learn it as a kid and so should they", i am questioning the behavior of adults and wondering just what the lesson was their parents were trying to teach them, and what the lesson was the kid took on into adulthood?
and what secret did this mom whisper to her precious cargo--to make him so eager to make his entrance into the world?(can i hear it next...)
mostly these are not extreme, terrible or obvious things--not things that parents may even be aware that they are passing on to their kids, it is really more like defense mechanisms, ways of rationalizing behavior or lack of integrity in choices--or outright fears that translate into dicey moments in all of our lives.
so i get it, there is no instruction manual to life, raising kids or being perfect. we are all just really doing our best, but i really do always wonder why we humans tend to shoot ourselves in the foot quite so often.
here's my point, at what place in human history did we learn to believe in our fears, choose life the hard way, let go of our inner guidance system--and then turn around and teach that to our kids as "that's just the way life is!"? i call total bullshit on this one--i really want to expose this practice for the bully that it is, the snidely local priest peering over half-glasses shushing the joyous children of the world, the bitter maiden aunt dried up from lack of proper care and feeding and insisting that those children be seen and not heard, the establishment or the "been there, done that" crowd...
rather why don't we teach our kids and ourselves that life is a tremendous gift, truly a puddle-luscious experience whose marrow we should spend our entire lives attempting to suck dry? this is my personal philosophy; there are unseen, unproven, whispered possibilities that circle our psyches all the time that i would love to hear trumpeted from the rooftops...life is so easy, you have an amazing power and gift and can create whatever wondrous dreams you conjure up, even when serious shit hits the oscillating fan it's because you asked to learn some stuff in this life--that doesn't mean it's not worth living--it means you were powerful enough to get what you asked for...so pay attention to those questions, be clear on your intentions, view life with the joy and delight that it was giftwrapped to be.
(photo credits tim gibbons, photog and filmmaker extraordinaire)
Notice this little chica? utterly fearless, has she ever learned the strange lessons our western society tries to put on us? i think not!!! i embrace this stance to open and let the wonderment in.
i was really writing this in response to a few fears i noticed in others this week, but really it's my own best advice(some showed up to be great mirrors for me) and i'll be the first one to step forward for a little self-mothering.
Hear that lama? puddle-luscious!!!! so let the marrow sucking begin!!!
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Now playing: Adam Green - Jessica
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sense memory extraordinaire

for me it is gloriously self-indulgent and provides hours of nostalgic enjoyment to let the mind ramble through favorite memories. i always wonder what unlocks the brain from one memory to the next, how exactly does the brain filing system work? these mysteries are neither answered nor explored in this excerpt. i just do a little of that self-indulgent crap and invite you to respond with the same...

sound of lawn sprinklers going on with
seeing the full moon come up over mount olympus
--this means summer is in full swing because i am laying out on granny's lawn, it's summer so our sprinkler use is turned to nighttime, and the moon just perfectly comes over the peaks to the east, the grass is still warm from the sun going down. then we scramble for cover

Sound of U2's 'with or without you' with
sight of my old friend don merril playing air guitar and grinning like a chesire cat
--he was the first one to really introduce me to the band U2 and their music became quite the presence in my college years--joshua tree was the soundtrack to my entire semester in jerusalem

smell of pipe tobacco with
walking to gemco
--at an age when i still considered walking to the local grocery store an opportunity for some social interaction(picture hanging out in front of 7-11) rather than driving. i would have to pass our neighbor's house who was a huge pipe smoker, and i loved the smell-sweet and rich. he also had his lawn mowed into a small putting green which seemed so funny to me, i mean we really lived in middle, middle america and can you just picture this dude out front smoking his pipe and putting on his own lawn? who does that??

Feeling the heat of the sun on my goosepimply skin as i warmed my body after swimming for hours with
Laughing uproarously with friends playing pool games for days on end throughout the whole summer...as a kid i never thought vegas was too hot in the summer, what is too hot when you can swim for 6 hours in a row?

feeling so tired and falling into bed begging my mom to
tickle my back so i could fall asleep...isn't there something so precious about the slowly deepening breath of a child as they fall asleep? makes it worth laying by them for millions of nights in a row just to recall that safe and warm feeling as a child:) we would beg our mom to tickle our back in church--sitting through the long services, i'm sure she just hoped we would be quiet long enough to make it out without her killing us.

sound of music blasting out of seriously rated speakers and the
beat pulling your body right off its seat for all night dancing and singing fests. what songs, beats, bands did this for you? off the top of my head...stray cats, der kommisar, careless whisper/wham, housemartins, modest mouse, trio, violent femmes, psychedelic furs, janet jackson, madonna, new order-blue monday, squirrel nut zippers, cake, sinead o'connor, hippy chick, squeeze, jamiroquai, no doubt, dave matthews band, alicia keyes, yeah yeah yeahs, michael franti and spearhead/skin on the drum, prince, the strokes, the kinks, sondre lerche and, and , and....who's ready to make their own list?(consider this paragraph the "currently listening bit"--now i've got to go and make a new playlist

if you live in a glass house

Funny how life brings it isn’t it? I mean we all sit in our glass houses hoping desperately that nobody among us thinks they are without sin, all the while looking for a chink in our brother’s armor—even if we aren’t his keeper. (how was that for mixed metaphor? at this point I’m not even sure what I’m talking about, but stick with me for a bit and we’ll learn together). This morning as I lay in my gloriously puffy bed with freshly washed sheets, reading e-mails, checking the news and wishing for breakfast in bed; I came across a thought of momentary noteworthiness that washed my struggling heart with serenity.

You see, I’ve had sort of a shitty week. Now I wouldn’t go so far as to say a totally shitty week, and it has got absolutely nothing on last week in the total stank department—in truth, things started to brighten up for me at least by Wednesday—so “sort of” really is a perfect descriptive in this case.(I’m just good like that.) What’s funny though is that the change from total to sort of just really insisted on inserting itself whether I liked it or not. And frankly I did like it; I have actually been doing some strange ritual of supination and begging this week and even considered various methods demonstrated in “agnes of god” for the truly devout to bring about a lifting of the proverbial gloomy cloud that has been pouring down, frizzing my hair and plainly ruining my make-up for nigh on a fortnight now.

When the breakfast in bed never appeared I roused myself for an outing to the local coffeehouse to enjoy a warm, ritualistic cup of eye-opener and some friendly banter. The banter was altogether at least 5 times as friendly as it has been for many Sundays and the learning was profound. My coffee companion began to describe a Sundance documentary by stacy peralta of "dogtown" fame called,"made in america" about the genesis of gangs in america and how they began from a genuine desire to build community and a sense of place in the world in the early 50’s—with no real intent or need for violence. My oversimplification (for literary purposes) of the plot linked my thoughts to the brief film I watched just last night about the favelas/slums in brazil and the nature of the gang violence and destitution lived there and the overall stinkyness of my past few weeks.
Then a little question arose in my brain or maybe from my heart…is it any wonder that the people of the world faced with amazing hardship and strife have a hard time rising above their trials when those of us with puffy beds and even the remotest possibility of breakfast being served there can’t seem to get out of our glass houses, quit trying to cast the first stone, wanting to find a chink in our brother’s armor and aren’t even the least bit interested in being his keeper? (not in the zoo sense of the word, but more in the jungle sense of “we’re all in this jungle together, why don’t we want to run in the same herd” sort of way).
The documentary told of how the men who started the gangs, or in their words—clubs, were looking for a place of fraternity where they could come together and form stronger bonds, hold their accomplishments up with pride—a place that wasn’t being allowed to them from the white community.
What is it in the nature of people that would not want another man or woman to be able to join with them because of a common bond? Why it is that human nature does not imbue in us an unquenchable desire to form these bonds wherever possible, to overcome our differences, rejoice in them and relish our similarities as well? When viewed in the global sense, this question is timely and oft disheartening…our nation and global village are crippled because of shortsighted behavior, but my question is posed on a poignant and purely personal level. If we can’t learn to see our literal brother or sister through the lens of unconditional love, even when they behave atrociously; if we can’t embrace our lover or best friend because we love them even when they disappoint us terribly, then at what point is it safe to say that nobody’s house will be left standing—glass or otherwise?
I don’t ask this question to imply that we should all abandon our opinions and differences, nor that we should hesitate to defend or even reveal them, I merely ask in recognition of my own learning…is there a way that we, as the closest of beings, can see each other in all our differences, embrace the fact that there are as many opinions and differences in this world as there are people and we are lucky to have people who love us enough to dispute those differences loving us all the while?
I suppose it was the experience of truly connecting with a few people this week, who while so different from me, were amazing and magnificent in their own right that I began to love them for it—which lifted the gloom, inserted the opportunity to connect through my heart, found the way to express diversity—even resolve conflict, all the while cradling it with compassion. It is this place which instills in me great hope for the people of the world—as we, as I, learn to see all my brothers with the heart--the differences no longer present a conflict, they present the opportunity to more deeply know another and through that, myself—and this will be our global village’s greatest triumph—whether we agree on it or not.

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