All in seven years coming up...#47

 Science says that the entire cell structure of the body is totally  regenerated every 7 years . I suppose not one of my cells are present that were present when we met 7 years ago, well after  30 days--I probably still have a few wandering around within me, aimlessly. Though we  still have to live till then, well an other 4 weeks --Wow, some number. I often wonder and think what is it that you are actually thinking. I shall not delve into this now--but it just seemed to cross my mind. Only that I still love you more than ever and more each day. This is the reason of the season.

Much has happened is seven years, yet nothing really --it seems like yesterday. Births, death, illness, accidents, weddings, moves, new ventures, new ideas, losses and gains.  Breakup, make up-love lost, love regained--or is that "Paradise lost and regained? No--it was never lost--only taking a vacation.  I do wonder at times about all of this thing called life.

But we had much , have much--I hope as when you are quite I wonder and question as to what is going on in your head. That long letter you promised, weeks ago? The beautiful words one day--then silence for days? I know what it is--it is because we are strictly communicating through words, and sometimes things need clarification, and the words have a completely different meanings as to what they actually are.

Animals entering and exiting our lives--that we have loved. Changes of thought, changes in philosophy,  changes in outlook, interests in different beliefs and concepts.  New interests , old ones  forgotten. Groups  opened, groups left wanting and people vanishing that were present. New embraces of ideas and old ones forgotten that were so very important at the time--completely lost, faded away into the past, never to be seen again. We are so inconsistent -as humans we are flawed and become bored or uninterested very quickly. Our capacity to concentrate and be true to our thoughts have remarkably short life span. Why is that?

Only is left are our written words, that were important, which now lie in old files, binders, blogs and secret files maybe never will be  accessed--for who would be interested?

You have been a writer all your life--so many beautiful things, so many valuable insight and wise observations. Yet--where are the: diaries, journal, plans for the future and dreams? All--hidden from view. Yes-- I agree with " What is the use of writing a journal when only the writer reads it? "

What is important really? Nothing, except God and the love that binds us to Him. --as I was reading this passage today from St Augustine-I have come to this insight.

"If to any man the tumult of the flesh grew silent, silent the images of earth and sea and air: and if the heavens grew silent, and the very soul grew silent to herself and by not thinking of self mounted beyond self: if all dreams and imagined visions grew silent, and every tongue and every sign and whatsoever is transient - for indeed if any man could hear them, he should hear them saying with one voice: We did not make ourselves, but He made us who abides forever: but if, having uttered this and so set us to listening to Him who made them, they all grew silent, and in their silence He alone spoke to us, not by them but by Himself: so that we should hear His word, not by any tongue of flesh nor the voice of an angel nor the sound of thunder nor in the darkness of a parable, but that we should hear Himself whom in all these things we love, should hear Himself and not them: just as we two had but now reached forth and in a flash of the mind attained to touch the eternal Wisdom which abides over all: and if this could continue, and all other visions so different be quite taken away, and this one should so ravish and absorb and wrap the beholder in inward joys that his life should eternally be such as that one moment of understanding for which we had been sighing - would not this be: Enter Thou into the joy of Thy Lord? "(Confessions).

In truth this is it--all else falls away and is insignificant in anyway or form  even if we live for  thousands more years--it is only love and God, which is one and the same.

Love is my name # 46

To say that I am made in the image of God is to say that love is the reason for my existence, for God is love. Love is my true identity. Selflessness is my true self. Love is my true character. Love is my name.

Love itself....#45

Your cryptic messages were rather obscure last night -one reads cryptograms  according one`s own translation. Which probably is a good thing--however rather a dangerous thing. But I took the plunge, and I knew the consequences.

In this short time --that I have known the writings of Merton I have learnt much. Perhaps-one gets attracted to people of kin, thus he is. The truth is my knowledge of him is limited,--but I hope to know more.

Why? because----I forget where and when he says this;  but I remember the most important part where he says:

If you love someone you do not try and keep them by saying the words, things they want to hear. But you tell them what is in your heart, telling them anything else is a lie --for keeping them under other terms is not love but attachment for the wrong reasons. Love fears not, is honest, truthful and hears the other--no matter what, and love is not weakened  but strengthened by hearing the other side.

The truth is--I am not enchanted by Indigo, never was--he is not the one I am in love with--but Oliver. The gentle spirit, the one who is compassionate, loving and has heart-lives within God. He is intelligent, wise and knows gentleness and love. Often when you sign your letters as"Indigo" it frightens me and my heart is filled with dread, though, "Lucien" is even worse.

You don`t have to agree regarding things I say or do, but neither do I. It does not mean we don`t love each other --or we love each other less. So last night -I have said what I wanted to say truthfully--if you leave for this, or for things I say from the heart, out of love--the so be it. Then one needs a "yes" man--to satisfy one`s ego--not true love. Often when I don`t hear from you for days--I read and re-read my cards, letters as to what I have perhaps said--. That is an awful restraint you put on me. I can`t say what I feel--? Why? If you really love me I can say anything freely--as you can also to me. Otherwise--we are playing games.

Often I feel I say, do things that you interpret differently as to that which was really intended--and then you are silent. Then I feel awful. Why do I have to feel bad when I love you so--and say my mind? To walk on rice paper? Say exactly what I feel? To be afraid that I shall never hear from you? That is not love on equal terms, but on your terms.

Even now I know you are there--you opened my card yet you are silent. Are you punishing me? Well--no. If  that is what you chose so be it--I have no "mea culpas" to chant-I have and always loved you with all your "quirks and quarks"--why can`t you love me with mine? Not one instance did I ever hurt you intentionally. Why would I when I love you so? Maybe I have, as you have, as we are human. But not intentionally--ever.

So having said all this --know one thing: from here on I shall say all that I feel, think and want. I expect nothing less from you--well, that is you are still here tomorrow--otherwise it wasn`r real anyway. Was it? Then it is not worth shedding one tear over--for love went out the door, as love itself is gone. Do I feel bad? Yes. But--not really, for I am telling you my heart. And I am not writing you an other word, until I hear from you. But before you decide, think about it- Do I love totally, completely  you or not? The answer lies in your heart.

The thing is I am saddened by your silence tonight--. thus must it be? It must be.

 

“Our thought should not merely be an answer to what someone else has just said. Or what someone else might have said. Our interior world must be more than an echo of the words of someone else. There is no point in being a moon to somebody else's sun, still less is there any justification for our being moons of one another, and hence darkness to one another, not one of us being a true sun.”
  Thomas Merton

Lost forever...#44

God works in mysterious ways--accidentally I have deleted at least five of my original entries, some extremely lengthy ones.--well this is the way it has to be I am at peace, maybe you have read them, maybe you haven`t--I only haven`t the foggiest idea only regarding two. Am I sad? Terribly--I am devastated!

That is fine. I leave always left everything in her blessed hand, thus it is of no concern to me--Her will be done. God works in miraculous ways--and I am at times amazed at how real and present He is. I shall bow out here as I am sure I have done more damage today than I have ever done--. Where? Here-on these pages. And they were meant for you----go figure?

Speck of God #43

Actually this was my original starting  thought last night regarding my entry of #42 it went askew. What I was aiming at is that  we fail to see this "divine speck" in others--and it leads us to disaster. Due to ego, selfishness and self centerdness--lack of mercy, compassion and love for one an other.

At the center of our being is a point of nothingness which is untouched by sin and by illusion, a point of pure truth, a point or spark which belongs entirely to God, which is never at our disposal, from which God disposes of our lives, which is inaccessible to the fantasies of our own mind or the brutalities of our own will.

 

This little point of nothingness and of absolute poverty is the pure glory of God in us. It is so to speak His name written in us, as our poverty, as our indigence, as our dependence, as our sonship. It is like a pure diamond, blazing with the invisible light of heaven.
 

It is in everybody, and if we could see it we would see these billions of points of light coming together in the face and blaze of a sun that would make all the darkness and cruelty of life vanish completely ... I have no program for this seeing. It is only given. But the gate of heaven is every- where.

The world as I see it #42

At last some good news from a few fronts. My aunt is doing better--she is still in intensive unit, but will be transferred to cardiology on Monday. Cici seems to be stable, except for a slight low hematocrit--but his heart seems better. At times I do have to agree with the idea of suffering and Tolle--and that it is the only way to get ahead. Samsara just is, no fighting it --our dharma is set, or chosen I haven`t made up my mind about that yet. But we have to walk the path -like it or not.

I look at the world and it is such a mess--I can`t seem to remember being this way when I was younger. Maybe I just looked at life differently, but I think that as technology is overtaking our lives, so our humanity flies out the window.  I was quite young during the hippy era, the years of the "flower child"--but that time  had soul--even the music had  a heart-beat which is non existent today. Now all of our lives  seems to be on a heart and lung machine, barely alive. Maybe God soon will pull the plug--as I am sure he is getting fed up with humanity.

"Make love not war"--was a cool battle hymn. I would love to have been living those times as a compatriot,  as a young adult--sadly I was far too young.  The  Bohemian--life, the hippy generation has a very deep romance for me--not because of sex, love and rock and roll--or the  weed. Perhaps a magic mushroom, salvia or a little Ayahuasca here and there--most certainly took off the rough edges of life, I would think.  It was all about compassion and love for the world. Wanting to make it a better place, stop the wars and live in peace and harmony. What a cool dream! What a beautiful picture !What an amazing future for the world. --which now seems to have been lost.

Maybe there is something about raising consciousness, awareness  and seeing though the fog with some help from a sip or a puff of some chemical , perhaps that which the God/s have created for the purpose of clarity--of the deeper parts of consciousness, not the physical  brain  function. --Would have been nice to try--alas, I had missed the boat by a few years. I think Timothy Leary had it spot on. Am I advocating drugs?--well the jury is not in yet on that yet. But--I can say that the world is no better, probably far worse than it was way back then. Perhaps we would be throwing flowers at each other as opposed to shooting bullets were we on the same plane as that generation. Consider me a dreamer.

People, children animals were safe most of the time--without watching, wondering and  worrying as to what maybe be happening to them . Windows, door  were left open day in and day out. Children could be left alone playing in parks and schools were the safest of places. Guns were unheard of --only seen and heard in the movies.  Now--our life have become the actual movies--often a horror movie for many.

We now have computers, washing machines, microwaves, cell phones, digital cameras and videos--yet we are prisoners of our own making.  Children have no childhood, adults have no life apart from rushing  and the eternal stress as we want more and more of the creature comforts. Family life is dead--families break up, move hundreds if not thousands of miles from each other--coming together maybe Thanksgiving or Christmas at best. Where is the life that was on "Walton Mountain"--or "Leave it to Beaver"? and the like. --Sure it was poor, with hand-me-downs,  but happy and together in a loving way.  This is what the 21st century has wrought--a comfortable, disjointed life of alienation from each other. God seems to have abandoned us--or we have abandoned God.

Everyone needs therapy, if a husband has a mistress because he is unhappy in his marriage, and craves love, tenderness, warmth and understanding- he has a sex addiction problem. If a wife is unhappy in her relationship because she is lonely, frustrated, tired and unappreciated - she needs therapy, and an anti depressant. If a man who loses is job, loses his possessions  and is unable to pay his mortgage, and he can`t see his children go hungry, so he hits the bottle- he has a disease that has to be treated. If a child is precocious, curious or is adventurous- he needs Ritalin.  Children are  not allowed to be children these days. Their lives are mapped out to the last minute everyday--sports, lessons and god knows what unheard of activities--playtime has vanished. No more running around in the fields chasing butterflies, swimming in the creek or simply watching a matinee with Jerry Lewis, or cowboys and Indians with John Wayne.

 Everyone it seems is in dire need of  some sort of special therapy--there are therapies that one needs a dictionary to know what it is--it is ridiculous. The world is utterly and completely insane. Dr. Phil ,Oprah and Ellen are the --the 21st century gurus for the "new man"--they are  the end all and be all of how to be, how to live and how to die even. Because  because they are perfect, and they know all! Well I wonder--I would love to be a fly on their wall! Oh-let`s not forget the Brangelinas, the Kardashians and  the likes of Lady GaGa et co--how to look, and how to be the perfect human being--.They are the role models for today`s world.

They can transplant a heart, but can`t fix a broken heart or comfort the one`s who hurt.  They can change a lung, but can`t make someone breathe out compassion and understanding. They can make the deaf hear, yet they are deaf  at the cries of ones  begging for mercy.  They can transplant a liver but can`t stop all the hate and anger  in the world.  They can do eye transplants but they cannot make people see the pain and suffering that is in the world everywhere.  They can fit artificial limbs that can run marathons, yet they send young people to war to lose their limbs--for nothing, lose their lives under the guise of lies and deceit. They are sent into battle to kill young people like themselves for no rational reason, only because some few elite have chosen to do so on a whim, or  it is materially and economically beneficial to them personally--well the world has gone mad.

It is all far worse than any horror story  that has been ever written--and it will get worse. God is watching us!--be aware, God is watching us.

Of religions #41

No wonder that some of us embraced Buddhism--I am sure  makes the church livid.. But--people who are actually are open to God, are generally  the one`s suspected of the most awful crime-- , which in  a  sense is the most terrible  thing one can say about  people who love God, who profess to love Him beyond measure--let me re-iterate--these are the folks who would actually commit these crimes--against God. What hypocrisy.

I would certainly was born a Catholic--that is my religion--however, I am not that. My faith is "God", not believing, but actually "knowing within" without hesitation this truth is my true religion. Thus God--under one or thousands or millions of names is God. So, my religion encompasses Buddhism, Hinduism, Judaism , Mohammedanism as well as many other belief systems--including all the mythological beliefs. Who has the truth?  They all do. The sad part is that they all want to divide, not unite--and in the name of love for God.

Rumi said it well:

I am  not Christian or Jew or Muslim, not Hindu, Buddhist, Sufi, or Zen. Not any religion or cultural system. I am not from the east or the west, not out of the ocean or up from the ground, not natural or ethereal, not composed of elements at all. I do not exist, am not an entity in this world or the next, did not descend from Adam and Eve or any origin story. My place is the placeless, a trace of the traceless. Neither body or soul. I belong to the beloved, have seen the two worlds as one and that one call to and know, first, last, outer, inner, only that breath breathing human being.

In my apartment I have images of many religions, not as idols but as reminders of God. I say  "I like to keep my bases covered"--all the major and minor ones. God -is- God -is- God--the Alpha and Omega, the Eternal, the Supreme Consciousness, the "ALL" that ever "IS' , "WAS" and "WILL EVER BE".

 I would presume that this a  fate that awaits a Catholic, that steps out of the Catholic circle and starts to think independently-- and especially ones that break all the rules. that are often man made, I wonder what God thinks?

Now --the point of all this as this seem to be my sort of a journal, of my personal conviction, spiritual growth and that no matter how we look at life, the universe or God-we are individual and individual sparks  of divine energy.

At times I am lost, at times I am totally found, thus this is our humanity in action. As most of us--we go back and forth because we question, question and question some more,  and at times we do not get the answers we expect.

So it is not about  religion, but God. We are brought  to that which we already know deep within at time fail to realize--,  we are human,  we are fragile, vulnerable  and we are a part of God, but most of that all we are within the heart of God.

Holiness is being a compassionate human being--love for all that is living, all that is within the creation of God. Believe me this has had nothing in anything really --but the way I see life, our humanity, us and God. And we should always only 'do only that which is good'--so says the motto of ULC .

The truth is I have no idea whether you read these entries or not--. Your passion, your fire and your love for God fills your heart and if you touch but one soul--you have touched the world and God. And I so admire for that.

You see--darling that is what is so special about you, that is why  love you , --!The part that is that divine spark within you that I love , that what moves in you and is my other part.  Strange thing--about  God splitting of souls into to two.

I adore you--and your writings are a gift to the world--but you need to get it out there!

I so believe in you and God is on your side--no matter whom  you call God!--Darling-Names matter not to God. You are a sun--you are a Buddha!

So what is my point? Apart from this "God" consciousness--well, it is a sort of balancing of my mind relating to why I am actually here, or as to my mission--which often is very clear , yet at time is a dark abyss which  makes me feel ever so awful  and inconsequential in the scheme of things. True--we are all in a sense rather unimportant, but maybe not . Why? Because each soul was what that created for a purpose is--but God who a purposeful Creator and a reasonable one--though we do not see the forest from the trees or the trees from the forest it dosn`t mean that there is no divine plan. We are blessed with the nature and grace of God--that is what is termed for me His image and likeness. I think some religions confuse this-- take it quite literally.

 I know I seem to be rather confused at times--moment by moment. It is my humanity shining  through, my free will and my war with my ego--whom is a real tough cookie. And a bloody hard adversary at times, one is one`s worst enemy. 

Yes--this is a real problem, especially when I rather expect things- to happen , to be answered to be reciprocated  -which disappoint me greatly.  ...to be continued an  other venue, as I don`t want to get into boiling water.

By "petticoat creek"....the brook# #40

Yes--this is the brook at the bottom of the garden--I am in love with it. It is part of the "Rouge National Park". It is a place where God wishes to dwell, --humbly, as well as I.

As I sit here and the tears just seem to flow from my eyes and heart. I am questioning for what is all this for? Suddenly  I am realizing that it is for myself. This seems a bit selfish, but it is for myself. Lately I have walked paths that I have never encountered, never walked--I feel lost to the world.

Yesterday as I was lying on the grass in that enchanted place,  at the bottom of the garden, by the little babbling brook. The silence was the most beautiful music, only the birds and the actual sound of stillness. That place is magic, it captures the sound of silence. This evening I thought--if I have to die, that is where I would like to end my life--on the banks of that little brook. There amongst those huge pines and that old apple tree. A magical place amid all the noise of the 21st century.

A serene place to discover ones self, to listen  one`s soul and hear the actual  voice of  God, clearly. There--in the bustle of this enormous city life, is this tranquil spot that is a door to inner light and peace .

I am doing a lot of soul searching lately--yet I have no idea as to what that is I seek. I seem to be wanting or needing something that which I cannot describe. The only time for a while now was yesterday on the bank of that stream, lying and gazing at the sky, that I seem to have a glimpse of an answer--otherwise my soul is so restless that at times I feel it will simply escape and leave me. No thought or idea seems to satisfy my heart. For moments here and there, thought you do, imagining being with you do, --being spiritually with you do. Though those times seems to be fleeting as well, though I love you so very much. But, maybe it is because you are not here, though you are ever present in my heart. Strange? I wonder so often as what you really think.

Maybe all the chaos around me that is doing this, my mother, my aunt and even the little kitty--that keep me bound to the thought of impermanence. Prayer is not much comfort--as I have to confess I am not that much into it as I should. I pray, say the rosary--but it is not hours on end--they more like mantras almost an unconscious method  of recitation .  But--the strange, the most odd thing is that my mind is forever  constantly focused  on God, conscious of God, within God. And I mean absolutely constantly, though He dosn`t give me much solace.--I am only distracted very briefly when I am working, or doing something. As I said--perhaps I am mad for that cannot be normal at all to be like this.

Maybe I am expecting death in some form--maybe it is a form of fear or wanting to be free of all , of life. Or maybe I just need a large does of Paxil and a bottle of rum.  There is this constant voice in my head saying all sorts of things, different images--of death mostly. Not of myself but loved ones--I truly hope that I die before anyone else or I could not live it through, I would  be totally devastated--losing anyone.

No wonder many who actually thought about existence were torn--and questioned all, including God. Nothing makes sense about living at all--if you think it does than you are deluding yourself. The only time it makes sense when you stop thinking and become like most of the 7 billion--who are simply running after the"stuff""--thinking it will make them happy and fulfilled. What a lot of crap.


Maybe I am just feeling sorry for myself, for my life and the way it has turned out. Though-to be honest, whose life has actually turned out the way they had expected? No one. They may lie and tell you that it is all happiness, joy and bliss--but hardly. All a huge misconception of self delusion. Who ever that maybe from kings to paupers--all the same. Just searching for that elusive dream--that something that does not exist only perhaps in dreams or in fairy tales. That is why you loved "Avatar"so much--"Pandora" --exists but in the sense as it is in mythology--as Pandora opens the box filled with all of the  "troubles" escaping, hardly "Nirvana". --I doubt greatly whether "hope" was actually present in the dark corners of that box. That is a dream of man, not wanting to accept the finality and the nothingness of all. Dreaming of the "eternal hope".

One thing I can say for sure--it is not what I expected, but then when we are young we are weaver of dreams,  when we get older--or old we realize that nothing is as we had imagined, thought or were told otherwise. Nothing is real all is simply illusion --transient and impermanent. Where does that leave us?  Completely, utterly lost~!

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Life, death and all else #39

Our place, the Rosetta Nebula only - 4, 500 light years away. Imagine the freedom, the beautiful detachment and escape from the earthly realm . Be, act and behave in a way that all light beings behave; in a state of complete happiness, bliss and  love--within the heart of God.

The card you  had sent today simply moved me to tears. They often do, bit this one for some reason had a every emotional affect on me. Yes-I am in a very contemplative mood lately as I seem to see life changing right in front of me. At times I feel it is for the better at times just the opposite. I seem to be sliding back and forth--maybe the yin/yang of existence.

When death seems to come up in ones mind, the realization of its finality and that each one of us has to face it as it has been lately-like my aunt, or even little kitty cat, Cici, -then one wonders, questions and has  to take a deep soul searching journey as to what life is. I am sure you had this experience, when you were so very ill a few years ago. These things often shake one into wakefulness and examining as to what is really important with regard to life--or more so the soul.

Maybe that is where I have been venturing lately--deeper into myself--if there is such a thing at all. I hate the uncertainty in me, the uneasiness and the 'who knows' parts. One`s faith should be able to cover all that ground quite comfortably, yet it dosn`t seem so . It used to when I was younger--maybe the thought of death was far from my mind. Death actually hadn`t touched me at all until my grandmother died when I was 17. Before that--everyone and all the living seemed eternal. The questions of God, of heaven and hell were strictly a catechism question, and God was  simple always "was present" for me. Maybe the nuns did a good job, or I have no idea why. But-God was always present in my life since I can remember, and that was when I was just 3.

However these days all that I believed , believe so deeply is becoming more and more difficult. Though, it shouldn`t be like that at all-on the contrary, should be more and more easy. Yet, I seem to be finding it heavier and heavier to lift this load of spirit or perhaps to understand it more fully. Or just at this point realizing that everything ends--and no matter how much one believes there is always a big or a small doubt, even the saints faced that.  The interesting thing is that--the ones who believe have these doubts, the ones who don`t just don`t think about it. So that then becomes rather easy way to cope with theses thoughts --well that is what I think, I maybe wrong.

Even Buddha asked these questions for over 6  years--, until he just got enlightened under that Bodhi tree--but I wonder if at times even after that  he still doubted that he had found the answer. But then--had he? Yes-all saints had doubts every other day so it seems. Well this is the blessing of being human, of being able to think of having awareness.

I am so uneasy these day, so uneven on my feet, so unsure about the present and the reality around me-- and what exactly is reality and what is not.--I have no idea about what everything or anything is about. I have no questions, never mind answers. I  feel as if the other shoe will drop at any minute--yet, I am not sure that the first shoe has actually dropped at all. All I know is that I don`t know anything--that is why I am in this contemplative sphere of mind--or territory.

Thank you for you love and kindness today--I too love you most deeply.

Moon # 37

What a  most beautiful sight to behold--the moon tonight--fascinating, mysterious and  yet it hardly ever crosses our mind to really contemplate as to how incredibly strange a phenomena it is. How strange the world is, how strange -we human beings are, how complicated, how intricate. Every part of us working like a Swiss clock, far better in fact.

Tonight , this most wondrous celestial object is an enormous silver orb dominating the sky. One seldom thinks how unimaginably complicated  all creation is--how everything is in sync, how everything works precisely down to the minutest virus, to quarks and quarks and beyond. We just take it for granted, without a second though and often without an ounce of gratitude to that great Universal Consciousness-our God who has blessed us with such wonders and miracles.

All containing some mysterious life force, energy--most surely even thing that we think are inanimate. When one experiences these things in a conscious sense, in an awake state, as we are asleep most of our lives, and I don`t mean in bed, but in our daily lives--or perhaps even dead as a doornail to the spiritual aspects of our being. When one really ponders these things of life--the vitality, the expression and the manifestations of existence, then I just don`t understand how then some have the audacity to doubt the existence of God. Or how can they actually justify it?

I am not talking religion- of any sort--those are  to me is as far from God as the next galaxy--but the divine aspects of that creator force/forces that I term God. That in mind cannot be denied, argued away through some material "mumbo jumbo"--meaning "well we cant` demonstrate it scientifically in the material sense, no mathematical formula can prove it or an equation;  thus it does not exist". Poppycock and then some. I think these people will be rather surprised when they get to the end of the line, as we all shall--then what will their story be? Now--that is the real question.

Such perfectness cannot be simply be  coincidence or random coming together  Even Darwin at the end of his life had very deep doubts about --his  own "Origin of species" and Einstein had even greater doubts about the "non" existence of God--on his deathbed, though I suppose it is never too late for awakening.

I find it odd that most scientist are atheists--yet they are actually are the ones who should  have the greatest of faith as they see in clear light the extraordinary workings of creation, the magnificence of nature and that it is doubtful that all and everything is merely--an accident or all emerging out of chaos, - however according to science all is entropy, "chaos increasing", proceeding further into disorder.

How soon we forget #36

Love is from the infinite, and will remain until eternity.

The seeker of love escapes the chains of birth and death.

Tomorrow, when resurrection comes,

The heart that is not in love will fail the test.

Rumi from Thief of Sleep

I was thinking here as I was reading some poems from Rumi and Hafez--and as I posted a quote from the Gita  in the yahoo group--I was reminded as to how easily and quickly we  forget things.Things once that were important are probably sitting somewhere in our minds on dusty shelves, entirely forgotten. I have had so many things as well as people that have touched my life, in fact changed my life --and yet I have seem to have forgotten all. 

Things I thought were so very important to my very being, my entire existence of my life , whose works made me the person I am-- whom I adored, revered and loved. Poets, writers, philosophers, artists and all that make life rich, beautiful and valuable.  Ideas, beliefs seem to stay briefly and as they quickly as they came they seem to leave--sort of come and gone like the wind. Things, ideas, philosophies, values I thought tremendously important--things I would literally live  or die for-- Yet--only fragments remain--for me. Some totally lost and have turned to dust

Maybe I have an awful memory, perhaps it is information overload, or maybe we just remember things very briefly. But I do hope that it  in fact gets to be incorporated into the fabric of our souls. Maybe we don`t consciously remember, but sub- consciously we do and we never loose it. Or--maybe one life time is simply not enough to remember all the information to register fully. 

True--some things often  jumps back into my mind , once I am reminded--but otherwise it is all gone. Maybe--the mind is a computer and you need the passwords. But looking back--there has been so much that I was interested, involved in, immersed in, knew inside out over the years--yet  hardly even fragments seem to have remained. Maybe it is there and it is only  buried--I hope.

Maybe it is a good idea to keep a record of what one`s interest is at the moment, what one is reading or is into. I keep referring back to Merton as I am into his writings--he used to state what he was reading and whom in all his entries. Where his interest was lying.

That is a great idea--at least later--but then  the next question is --whether  one actually ever reads one`s own entries anyway-? LOL. Moral of the story is: one should! -then at least one is reminded --"hey I was interested , totally into the new  and oh so many old philosophers as well as the ancient ones. For a while they seemed like old friends. The different mythologies, religions, belief systems, the Annunaki were for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Energies, crystals, past lives, numerology, astrology, crop circle, divinations, or those weird alien reptiles, UFO`s, ascension and hundreds of other things-- far too many to mention way back then. Hell where on earth did they get to?". LOL. Now I ask you--isn`t human nature just strange and weird? So record all --or lose it all-that is my advice to myself. Will I take it--probably by tomorrow I will have forgotten what I have written tonight LOL 

At least today it makes things easier all one has to do is look it up in the computer in seconds, whereas years ago one needed days or weeks  to find it in the books one had read probably years ago--or had lent the books to God know whom,  and had never gotten it  back. Then it was a trek and search through books in the library all through the night for one forgotten something.

Life is much easier now --thank you Janos Neumann !--one has to acknowledge that we Magyars are simple the cat`s whiskers--no doubt. Without us the world would simply stop spinning LOL. Well-sadly I have to admit-that most of my genes are of the Germanic kind--maybe a Magyar gene sneaking in here and there --.

Finding God #35

I am sure you wondered why the entry just had a number--even no title-and even more importantly no entry. Generally I title it at the end always, as mostly I just write as the thoughts escape my mind. At times -mad ones true, but that is I. We are all mad in a way. I wonder how many people write journals, probably many these days--under the name of a blog--just a more contemporary 21st century version.

I think  when it comes to writing that is when we really see, identify  understand the person--for through those revelations we see their hopes, dreams, ambitions, purpose and goals.  Why they are actually living and who they actually are. I love this description of  writing.

~If you write for God you will reach many men and bring them joy. If you write for men--you may make some money and you may give someone a little joy and you may make a noise in the world, for a little while. If you write for yourself, you can read what you yourself have written and after ten minutes you will be so disgusted that you will wish that you were dead.

Keeping a journal has taught me that there is not so much new in your life as you sometimes think. When you re-read your journal you find out that your latest discovery is something you already found out five years ago. Still, it is true that one penetrates deeper and deeper into the same ideas and the same experiences~.

So it is--at times one even deletes it, which is a real bad idea for the regrets later never end. Last night I had all kinds of ideas in my head as to what to write--but my computer slowed down to a snails pace, and I was unable, thus all the thoughts went away with the storm and with my frustration.  It is so strange -thoughts. At times I write an entry--and it just vanishes and the ideas and the thoughts vanish with the writing--never to be heard of again. I mean the actual ideas and their sequence. Funny how that is, but I know it has happened or happens to you--that drives one crazy.

I am still in the office, I have two more patients and I have a small break, so I thought and see if anything actually comes to me.  Sort of pry it out of my subconscious. I think perhaps it should be something regarding prayer.

I owe Our Lady at least 4 whole rosaries, for some reason it has been skipped the past days, though I have to admit God is very frequently on my mind-almost constantly, which is really the prayer, the incessant one. When I drive especially, I try and be very conscious of the surroundings, of the moment and of God--it is not easy, as we often leave the present and wander into the past or the future. The reason why I also like Eckhart Tolle is because he focuses so much on that point--that is when I truly woke up into the world.

No--once I die I shall not be canonized. - Maybe you will?

To be continued----

Finally home.--ah the weather is so much more tolerable.  I left at 7.15.this morning--I went to mom after work, long story about her beloved fur child--story to be told later one day-after almost $4,000 from Oliver`s pocket--Cici, is doing  Ok. It is 6.30pm and here I am with a glass of wine finally--. Deo Gratias. Now back to prayers.

“The only thing to seek in contemplative prayer is God; and we seek Him successfully when we realize that we cannot find Him unless He shows Himself to us, and yet at the same time that He would not have inspired us to seek Him unless we had already found Him.” 

This is how I feel-- for me He is ever present everywhere. I wake up with the thought-maybe also because I have many images in my bedroom of Our Lady and it is am immediate reminder as I open my eyes, but I know that is not the only reason. When I see nature in anyway or form, beauty of any kind or even my plants. How unimaginably complex, have mysterious all is and how they grow and function. Just amazing . --I think of God and how awesome He is and I am so very blessed to be witnessing all of this. I seem to be in this "space" of gratefulness most of the time. So--regarding definition--I am practising contemplative prayer more often than not. 

I am ever conscious of God-at times I feel almost obsessed with the thoughts of God, of all that I feel and know to be Him. "All"  that is--and I know I am in it--and to me He is always showing Himself. I do believe I have found Him--true I have the odd doubt when things spiral down or I am at the end of my tether. But that is being human and even the saints faced that.

My mother made some remark this evening-"you are religious", she said regarding something. I really do not believe I am religious at all--when put that way, to it means I am an orthodox Catholic, --which I a not at all--probably a renegade one. I am maybe what I would term a "collector of thoughts, ideas, philosophies and theologies  from other  spiritual teachings that I feel vibrate or reflect the truth for and with my spirit". I am Christian, Buddhist, Hindu, Jew and everything else including a number of pagan beliefs-as well other weird unorthodox ones--as long as it makes sense to me, makes me  or allows me to step forward, bring me further into the heart of God--it is a-okay with me.

There is only one God, no matter what the name or gender. We, as humans image him in somewhat of a human exposition--but because we fail to get beyond our humanity. An ant can only simply think as an ant. I believe that we are made in the image of God--that being our " nature "not a physical image and we are like  Him in likeness through/by  "grace".

But I do very much doubt that I have to explain myself to you, and I am not--simply musing--for you are the same. Wherever, in whatever and however one finds God--has actually found him. yes--we already have found Him--in Magyar when one refers to God--we refer to God as- ö -  as the pronoun, which  has no gender and can be either masculine and feminine. Though "Atya Isten" is "Father God", in the ancient Magyar religion it is "Anya Isten" which is "Mother God but we always only say "Isten" whom is genderless.---"ö az Isten"= he/she is God.

Secret life #34

You know I was deeply touched and moved by you sending me some of your diary entries--I wondered whether you just wanted me to read it, or actually respond. As diaries are not meant to be responded to, only read. Maybe --once in public domain, it is a different story, but while in hidden, abiding in secret places--it is almost sacred. However--you were going to put it into a letter--so I feel a bit better--as I in my heart considered it as thus.

I am no great writer of words, but I do like to put my thoughts to paper, these days onto web pages. When I was 14-- I got a 5 year diary --red leather bound, with a lock and key. I wrote in it daily., faithfully--well as much as a 14 year old can, even an 18. It was filled the year I met Leslie--and then--idiot I, I burnt it.  Why--because I was stupid and childish. It actually contained no great secrets, no great revelation only thoughts, and dreams of a teenager, who was a virgin still at 19. Strange thoughts, strange memories, strange recollections as it all comes back. Thus are diaries and the secrets they hold.

You are extremely prolific when it comes to writing--but you are a writer. Spinner of words, of ideas, of thoughts and at times profound magic. I merely record my thoughts--though I at times hardly know why. I doubt it is of interest to anyone except my own self. Even great works have gone unread,  never mind personal observations and feelings of one of 7 billion. But--I suppose we are all important to ourselves--or so we think. 

So, the reason why I am numbering my great works of literature, is because  there is an other secret section to all of them--one that is inaccessible and and deeply personal. When I die--I shall leave the password and name to you,-- and their actual interpretations for you to decipher. Like the hieroglyphs of Egypt,  the Cuneiform of the Babylonians or the "ek iras "  of the Magyars the --much is still not translated.

We all live some secret life of some form--maybe just the romantics do, the worldly coudn`t care less. I often wonder who is more lucky-- the ones who are the ponderers, the wonderers and the thinkers or the one`s who merely exist from day to day without wondering about anything except money and stuff to accumulate. Yes--sad but true "there is no luggage rack on a hearse"--let`s not forget that needle and the camel. Not that there is anything wrong with money, but it is how one uses it. Often  it is like the Pied Piper--we follow mesmerised, but  as is said--that piper will need to be paid at some point.

Then one gets to ask--what is actually important?  For me --as far back as I can remember, my ideals, dreams were in a similar vein as it is now. God was always present, love was always on my mind, not in a sexual sense or even a physical sense--but in a spiritual sense.  My values were always honourable and utterly honest.  I was always true to myself and the one`s I cared for as that was always on top of my list. I always tried to do all I could to help--make this place a bit better than when I had found it, or it found me. Have I made a difference?--I am sure I have. Any moment we spend in that positive state will make a difference. Gyuri says --that the actual energy aura of saints spread out for over 50 km radius interacting with "all"--The mere human still has a 5 km radius --be that positive or negative energy that it shed onto others and the world. So every moment we make a difference with our thoughts and intentions.

One day--St Francis asked a young monk to take a walk with him into town--he explained that they should go and speak with people. They went--walked around town, all the while St. Francis was silent. When they got back to the monastery the young monk asked--why they didn`t speak to the people. St. Francis answered: "but we actually did".

Yes--all the secrets we carry--small and big, though their size simply are our evaluations of them. We think  that the sun revolves round us, and we are dismayed when we find out that it dosn`t.  Self importance to the ego is an ever important factor--as then one feels the justification of one`s existence. Yes--we are all important--. There was a song when I was young--there was a refrain or a verse: " Fido is big, Tabby is small--yet they all want to live, live and let live". Kinda says it all.

Every life is a soap opera--every life could be a best selling novel and every life has its own special quirks and quarks, its special story to tell. Their light and dark spots, secrets  and skeletons in the cupboard. That is why I said it is far easier to live in a monastery--being sheltered from the world than in the real world.   For many--it was an escape. It was to hide behind God--in the name of religion and consecration to God. No--it was hiding from facing the truth--out of fear .

You said it right--to be engaged more and more in the world, with the world that is the real is the validation of life of God--not  the escape into cloisters and catacombs. God is "All", thus is within and without "All"--we are in God--so to experience Him/Her/It/Them, we need more immersion  in this creation.  That what holiness is. That what communion is with God "IS", that what the river and cornfields of Kentucky are--for you. It "ALL" just "IS". That is the bliss, the ecstasy and the most profound realization of our humanity, the beauty, the mystery of existence --no need to chase it, for it just "IS". Being present ,"IS". Being completely aware,"IS". This is the grand secret, that is no secret at all.

Solitude #32

Solitude. Something we seek? You seek desperately.  Something we pursue? Something that gives us peace? Gives you peace.

This word for many of us conjures up deep emotion--I know it does for you. It projects serene qualities wherein the spirit can find refuge. I -as you know by now, I am a bit more worldly at times, yet at times just the opposite. At times--actually you often misinterpret what I am trying to say or my motives. Or  what I convey  through my words are  a total different interpretation by you,  that which I wish to  really say.

I think it is the way we are wired --either being male or being female is the problem. But I try so hard to say what I want to get through, neither make anything light which are very important points that needs addressing from your aspect as well as mine. To me silence is fine for a time--but it does not solve all. Then it starts to eat at me--questioning me as to why? Why can`t we resolve it in some way--not totally, but ease it perhaps. For we always feel that there is something missing, something we need to do to be complete--to be whole to be close to perhaps in my instance to God. I think for you that is also a primary purpose, goal or quest.

Solitude is great and gives us space--or a need to reflect on what we--as individual see as a priority in our spiritual development. A tremendous need, that we seek and feel it will untether us from the confines of the world and its complications. No two human beings are the same. You, at times misunderstand me, misread me, misinterpret my motives --as I do you. This is because the written word changed by a colon or a comma has a complete different meaning. This is very hard, when one cannot dissect and explain what one actually wants to say, especially when one is not as proficient in writing or knowledge of the entire Oxford dictionary and its meaning as you are. 

But--through this we often read different things into different explanations, or dialogue. Also--I say, then I think,--you think, think and think some more and say. Also you know the context of each and every word--so for you one word is enough, where I need a whole chapter to explain or even understand. 

Silence is golden--but for me silence often has negative connotation. I know this is how I think, and that is how you think. Neither of us is right nor wrong--but just the viewpoint and the angle are at different point of observation. 

Why I called this entry solitude--because, for you it is an important factor of your being and core--as was it for a few others. This is hard looking in, because at those times when you desire that one feel that you just want to get away from --often I feel it is me personally--but I know it is not so. But, yet--being human it is hard to interpret it differently. I think for women like myself--as there have been I am sure many--who love men like you, it is bloody hard and a torturous process. Why? Because we love you extremely deeply, and we feel that it is us that you want get away from--but it isn`t . It is simply solitude you seek, to commune with yourself, with the environment, nature--all that gives you peace and with God. 

We--or rather I often beat myself up--yet I know in my heart that it is not me, for I give you my all totally, completely so there is nothing else held back--and still it happens. It is getting easier to love such a complex being as yourself, but at times even after so long--it does get to be hard and one gets to question, wonder as to where all is leading. I tell myself --I place it in the hand of Our Lady, this works at times, yet-not always. For doubt creeps in. What if?--and a few other questions, yet I will not ever change the way I feel. Am I a masochist? Who knows. My lot? Maybe. My choice? Probably My karma--? Undoubtedly. My choice? absolutely.

The very painful point to all of this--that you are not talking to me. You are not sharing how you feel. maybe you think I can`t or won`t understand.  Or you question my love. Or--just don`t feel the closeness-- yet I do care so much and love you deeply. These are not just words--. At times I feel you are galaxies away--at other time you are right here beside me. This is driving me crazy. I want so much for you to know I am here for you--even in silence, in solitude in the confines of serenity.

You see no matter how well I know you. I am still not a mind reader. I still just understand words-and when you are silent then there are all these phantoms in my head and heart--that I conjure up, make up stories and scenarios. That is very bad--for the stories we make up in our heads are entirely different as to where things really are . So please, please talk to me.  Silence maybe golden--but not in every case. Solitude--you always have, for it is your choice to explore your soul. You are never bound by my love--ever.

In and out of life #31

Things I have always believed happen for a reason-any small thing in life, as well as big Thus when things appear and disappear there is a universal cohesion of sort with something somewhere. I wrote a very long entry titled"Snowflakes", though I hardly remember what it was about except for the last few lines, which read as such--so I shall quote and follow it as to where it will lead me--there has to be some revelation within its symbolism. The  lost entry is #27 and an other #24 which I have no idea what it was. But that is fine, I trust it was for a good reason, as I also had a good reason to start numbering them--I remember this from it only #27:

"We are like snowflakes, all different, individual -we exist momentarily as we descend and fall and live on God`s overcoat for a moment. Then we melt back into hence we came, and cease to be no more".

I was doing some spring cleaning amongst my entries--and that is the one that went over to the next universe.Through that one connecting spot when past, future is possible to access--the one "terembura "speaks of--in fact is the next dimension or 4th dimension. Thus-we are mere holograms almost, now which is the real world, I am unclear--all possibilities are acceptable.

All in one`s life is in motion, a constant dynamic interaction with the Creators/s--the specific original two which are constantly, eternally creating, expanding themselves forward and outward-as an eternal unfolding--outflow. I shall not go this into deeply, as once more it is Rumi`s time, and perhaps these explorations of the "creational theory"is rather deep and heavy rooted in science more so than in the spiritual matter. Or perhaps entwined would be the proper term.

So much has happened on different level that it amazes me, leaves me speechless. Now--I haven`t heard from you in well over a week. I wonder what is happening, but as I have learnt I leave the decision of "us" to you in the physicality, and in the hands of Our Lady in the "spiritual" realms.  I hope and wish that all is well with you and everyone. Generally there are two possibilities-either you are very well or very bad. I hope it is the former.

This weekend here has been utter chaos-but it too has already almost passed. I so much yearn to have heard from you,but you have your reasons as all does. Already we are in mid July-how fast this year has passed is incredible and what the future holds is a huge mystery. Introspection lately has pointed out much  in many ways as to direction, but--to follow or not is the question of our free will. Every day is a different version-and I have to agree that the ever changing present is at times exciting and challenging, and even painful. I have, and wonder why have we actually signed up for all this.

I am passed outguessing God, or the direction of the universe--I am of the conclusion to go with the flow wherever it may take me. I try the direction of the least resistance and pray it is the way I have to go, and the way God wants me to take--I have no idea if it is the right way or not, but I try my best to at least "do no harm" if I can`t do "good.

As with you--I am in complete darkness. I cease wondering for I cannot second guess you, my soul probably knows. Though we have communicated for the past months almost daily, I still don`t know that much of your present life in Chicago. But-that is fine. You shall tell me if you have the need or the longing to share.  So long as things are good and you are on a road that leads you to you specific goal, that is the direction to take. You life has changed so much as I thought about it yesterday--180 degrees from Colorado--even as to the way you sound. Family, responsibility and being emerged in life will do that. Easy being holy in a cloister, hermitage or monastery the real test is the real world of our sanctity as well as a test of our sanity.

Once you said that you would die without writing--it is like breathing for you. I am wondering how you are handling this--or are you actually writing? If you are, perhaps one day you will allow me to read it? What use is a journal or any writing if no one actually reads it--if only oneself reads it , it is senseless.

At times we often do things we regret later--so I am sorry about that. Perhaps my "Snowflakes" entry was about that-but that simply reflects back our humanity and how very imperfect we are. Mistakes , blunders and wrong actions are part of life--but correcting it is the real blessing if one is capable to do that. Well, in English--we learn from our mistakes often in painful ways, but that is progression to higher aspects of awareness. Ah--the caveat being: if we actually exist at all or are we mere snowflakes without awareness, but just aware merely for a moment in the mind of God.

As for us--well all will unfold as does a Lotus and within its centre we shall discover the mystery that lies therein for us. The great secret lies always deep within--What may that be that holds us so? That binds us so together? That attracts us so to each other?  This love in my heart for you? I do wonder. When I do such soul searching much springs to mind.

Silence #28

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Silence, or rather being silent, is the best action to take, in fact it is no action. Sort of a Buddhist philosophy--though silence things are not said, that have to be, however no words are said that must be said, yet understood by spirit. God always has ways and means to take care of it, or find venue of expression through other means if we sincerely seek it.

This is a very hard lesson for me, for my temperament is hardly silent. You can be silent--this at times drive me crazy when you are in contemplation mode. Or what ever it is. But you are silent and it drives me nuts--I try and compose myself, I try not to show any emotion, even disregard it--but in truth often I am livid. At times I think you want to drive me into accepting this mode. Teach me this lesson. I am driven by passion of heart, you are driven by passion of mind.

Often when I receive word from you, I answer immediately. I try so hard not to, but I have to. Its like this internal force that I can`t stop--it pushes and pushes me, goading me on. It so annoys me that I do it, because I know it annoys you terribly. My spontaneity will drive me into danger often--I know. Especially regarding you, and I know that it may even drive you away--yet I still do it. The more and deeper I love you the more fiercely I do it. Yet I know it makes you absolutely wild, breathe fire--still I keep doing it. Go figure.

The thing about all this is that there is no puzzle, no problem, and really no mystery. All problems are resolved and everything is clear, simply because what matters is always clear,--thus silence should be enough. Everything is emptiness and everything is compassion--all is silence so say the Buddhist. So true. Yet what do I do? The opposite. I know that silence creates spiritual validity--that is why we commune with God in silence. But sadly I have to admit, as all--it is most difficult to adhere to-- to weave silence into ones soul on a permanent basis is very tough, for we are simply human. For me it exists briefly day in and day out-- it comes and goes, that is the greatest pain of it for me.

You are much more rooted in it. You see when you are silent for a long while, often you are in a peaceful place. For me, your silence creates uncertainty, fear and insecurity within me. I think I have said something to offend you, I re-read my cards, my letters to see what I have said and my heart is filled with dread. Then I question the validity of your love. Maybe you have stopped loving me, you are tired of me or I am too demanding. Then I beat myself up and blame myself for your silence--for you never actually tell me why you are so.

Yet I should`t even entertain the thought that you do not love me,--for probably not even Juliet, Alexandra, Elizabeth nor Josephine--added together, have been told as much as I have been told as to how very much I am loved by you. You have expressed your deep love for me in the most beautiful words and expressions that is ever possible in the English language--in scores of ways, no--hundreds. So then why do I feel this uncertainty at times when you love me so? For I know all you say is true. Then comes silence for days and I am shaken to my core. Why? I am so very, very sure of my love for you, for I have never loved anyone as much as I love you--ever. Then why, why do I feels like this when you are silent? Why do I not understand your silence when you are so embedded in my heart? When you are part of my very self?

Would we posses the strength of the saints or the deepest commitment to God, then I can imagine our life to be possible without fear, with complete trust-- for then one would not question one`s feelings be that in silence or in clamour. But for the imperfect it is but a momentary existence now and then to be in that state of bliss. You have given me so many of those moments. When we experience this, that is when we are blessed with grace. As is said--it is always the imperfect that is in need of love, not the perfect. I am imperfect. But love combined with silence often speaks volumes. So--I shall try real hard to be silent, and accept your silence as validity of our love.

And in pencil........ I do love you so, my angel, my all--my other self.

Lets call it a journal #26

From here on I think--after 232 entries, I shall call it my journal--maybe our journal, we shall see as nothing ever is the way one expects it to be. So we shall leave it up to fate as to where it will lead us from here. I hope to interesting places of the mind, of the imagination and of the heart.

Why I decided that it is time for a change is that blogs seem rather impersonal in a way--where

as a journal is entirely personal. Thus from here on it will have more personal revelations-for if I am writing this for perhaps for later , maybe when I am not here , it should have more personal feelings, information and special insight into me .

Maybe it is not a great idea to do this where the world does have a window on all of this, but it honestly is important to be honest truthful and open myself as to who I am actually are--not that I haven`t been , but in certain areas perhaps I haven`t,--so from here on there will be revelations ...slowly so don`t expect major revelations tomorrow, but one step at a time. Do I have secrets-no, not at all--only things that one seldom brings into the light. At this point even I don`t know what lies in the recesses of my heart, mind and soul. But we all have--and I shall bring them forth in time of course.

So some thing change , some things never change--some things need to be seen in their true light.

So journal it shall be--for some to read it in the future--for mostly people who love me, for only they shall be interested in reading my thoughts and feelings--.

Grace #25

Have you ever seen something so beautiful that it makes you a little short of breath, your heart beat a little faster , you feel euphoric almost in a transcend state. Often one feels strange even almost ashamed during such situations, as one cannot hide one`s emotions, and one will get the most bizarre glances from the people around. The thought enters one mind as to why don`t they express their emotions in similar fashion, but I suppose we are all different. The appreciation beauty is built into some of us, more than others. Perhaps we are each just wired differently . Also beauty is in the eye of the beholder—but it actually has a physical affect on people, as well as a psychological one: Stendhal syndrome is not just am imaginary description , but a physical manifestation..

Everyone has different things that they find beautiful. For me? A major one is the art of William-Adolphe Bouguereau the French academic painter and traditionalist. In his realistic genre paintings of mythological themes. But then I am a romantic. I adore “The first kiss””—Cupid and Psyche as children and the other is “Psyche and Eros”. It is magical—Most definitely brings out the slumbering Stendhal syndrome from my soul. It absolutely for me they are the most beautiful images I feel I will see this side of eternity. What I feel provoked the artist to produce such wonder, is the grace of God in action. The closest that perhaps one can actually come to perceiving the physicality of God. In such moments of beauty the revelation of God’s character is revealed or is mirrored for me--then I cannot ever doubt the existence of God.

The poet Keats wrote-“A thing of beauty is a joy for ever: Its loveliness increases; it will never pass into nothingness.”But does this actually happen? You see, some of the physical things we give the epithet of the beautiful the actuality of change,--it may crumble, disintegrate and become dust—but then does the memory remain with us? Do people we love and as they grow old feel the same to us? —do we still see them as they were when we fell in love with them? Do we love the physical image or the soul image or the spiritual aspects of the beloved? Hard question—for us humans are besotted by the physical for numerous reasons—one being to keep the species going,- but what of the actual divine part of man? If we believe in that? Do we fall in love with the poet or do we fall in love with his words which reflects his soul? Is it eros or agape that we value? Or the supreme gift of God-grace?

In today`s world this is often seems to be somehow hidden. Why? Perhaps we are far too distant from God, perhaps we are far too scientific and want concrete answers for God to prove himself—actually at times demanding revelation almost as if it were our birthright to know. Well—I doubt that will ever happen, as I would venture to bet that God has far more important issues than trying to convince us mere humans of his existence—it is up to us to figure it out or be connected enough to be able to decipher the actual codes which God has written into our hearts.

I personally struggle to have grace, often disheartened and feel that God has abandoned me as he had Anthony in Alexandria, but I am sure he wasn`t he had just thought so in his dark moment—but the feeling passes—as it did for him, as does for me, as it does for all quickly, as we once more see the world around us unfold in life and reveal its exquisite beauty, and the magnificent awesomeness of creation of God –from the most minute to the greatest. It is all a miracle, as we are.

It’s not always easy for us to have grace, accept grace which is so freely dispensed by God out of love for us. God has given us so much of it and yet we can struggle to show it. How do we become better at showing others grace? Immerse ourselves entirely in the grace we’ve been shown, immerse ourselves in the testimonies of God’s grace around us. Get lost in the amazing grace of God and appreciate it in heartfelt gratitude of the gifts bestowed upon us—and pass it on to the ones less fortunate whereby , and though which they will be lifted up –and their burdens, suffering and pain become more bearable as they realize that –someone cares, that is God who is reflected in the physicality of an other caring human being . We are the grace of God personified--use it.

God is not in heaven , but we are in God. Look not for God, for you are always have been within God .

Black rose #30

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Well thinking about it --for I wrote this a few days ago, and took it off, but seeing I wrote it--thus it should have its abode her, good or bad.We change daily, so fair is fair, so here it is.

A bit morbid when one speaks of a black rose, but then don`t the Chinese mourn in white? I was awakened a few hours ago around midnight by the phone--never did anything like this happen to me, I just couldn`t remember anything-my mind was a blank. This must be when one hasn`t  completely lost their mind but getting there for sure. It was the vet. He asked me about the day--I just coudn`t remember. I told him to hold on a minute, I had to compose myself, try to gather my thoughts a bit but I coudn`t-- even after that my mind was a total blank, like everything was erased. Must be all this tremendous stress and pre-occupation with death , and the dead.

I just feel I am being pulled into a million different pieces and I just cannot handle it at all. I am so very tired, so spent, so miserable and above all so very depressed. I don`t think all this mystical reading is doing me much good, in fact makes me go deeper into the depths and I feel I can`t breathe and I am  slowly being asphyxiated, I just want to escape to a safe quiet place. But there isn`t one--no where.  I just feel so miserably alone  and forgotten.

Mourning. I suppose, that is really what I feel. Like in the Victorian days  being in black for days, months, even years--when even their jewellery was representative of death on those occasions. The thing is that I don`t have a real reason for feeling this way, but I do. I have no idea what I am mourning. My lost life perhaps, my "could haves, should haves, would haves" of yesterday.Tears don`t help when there is no one to wipe them away--they cleanse not the soul neither the heart. One just keeps struggling like a beached fish  on the shore wanting to get back into the water to where it was joyful, the way things used to be.The safe, the happy and the serene....ah solitude, the thought so all encompassing.

I really thought I had gone mad when I was suddenly awakened from sleep--nothing like this has ever happened, nothing like I have ever experienced before. I am so scared, frightened at this moment of what I have become, of what this all is leading to--maybe I am actually driving myself mad. Maybe to the end, well all has to eventually. That thought is so frightening, yet we all have to get there, get through it. Then what? I feel no comfort from anything, especially now that I haven`t heard from you in days. Where are you? I haven`t prayed in a few days, though I did light a candle, but I find no refuge in the thought, neither in God.

I am filled with dread, agitation and this internal trembling. I feel detached from myself in a weird sort of way, disassociated. It is not like being drunk, but spaced out, my mind being elsewhere. I can`t watch TV--it dosn`t interest me, neither does music nor anything else. Thought I have to go around with a happy face, and be a rock to all who need me. I have no idea how I shall get through all those patients tomorrow when I am a total wreck myself psychologically and all else.

I just feel I want to sit into my car and drive forever never to return. Just drive into oblivion never having to think ever again. I think it was that bus that did me in with all the stress of it and this past two weeks of total "hell" of Dante. The sad part is, I can`t tell anyone, can`t show my feelings or discuss all that is eating away at me. I am one a huge mess of a disaster. And so  utterly alone.

No more cards, letters, thoughts  for a while.  No more anything-I am so need of some assurance of some kind, of safety and consolation that things will be alright, yet I feel none--utter loneliness.  Alright? But what? I ask myself.  Tonight is the very worse night in my entire life. The desolation , the pain in my heart, the feeling worthlessness is just unbearable. I feel you are gone for some reason. I can never figure you out, I thought I did. Then times like this I hardly know you. You-"the enigma".

I think perhaps this has been the culmination of everything, and is also the reason why I have been writing so much, not that I have said much at all. Yet,  I feel the need to say much, but can`t seem to express myself or find the words at all. It is like I have lost myself entirely- mind, body spirit and voice--no words at all, they seem lost to me.

Maybe this night  is some sort of purging of spirit from God, from all this incessant thinking, obsessing and wondering about life--about existence, mostly God. And you. No--definitely reading all this Merton is not helpful, it sucking me into the abyss even more deep than I could ever imagine, as it brings questions to my mind that I don`t want to ask, or hear the answers to--it is not at all helpful for my internal life, the health of my soul.  One would think communion with God would give some rest to the soul, but it is not. Use to.  Contemplation brings more to the surface and one realises the futility of all and the madness. The senselessness. I always thought love was the answer--makes one complete within God as well as without. That love creates a tighter bond, a clearer perspective, of understanding, of unity with the universe. But tonight I just feel the opposite, though I love you-- as I  also love God from the very core of my being, with every cell in my body. Yet.....

All this endless doubt that is tearing at me up. This uncertainty, this endless nagging of spirit. This deafening noise in my head that won`t stop chattering, won`t stop telling me stuff  which I don`t want to hear. I just want to escape it all, this never ending misery. I want this night to end, yet I want it to continue till eternity--I don`t want to see the next sunrise, yet it will emerge in all its glory in over an hour. I don`t want to face an other day. Life is so bloody hard. I have no idea why I signed up. Just struggling, wondering, self reflection -yet understanding absolutely nothing about myself because I have so much self doubt as what God actually wants or desires of me--if at all anything at all.