Growth of the Spirit

Had this post rolling around in my head a couple of days ago, but since then pretty much forgot about it.
But today I was thinking about my life, and my love for it (see today's post for details) and decided to revisit this particular trail of thoughts.
Had a conversation with (ahem) a friend the other day, and right when I had an important point to make I totally lost What In Tarnation I wanted to say.
As it's been a couple of days, I've since remembered, and it was something along these particular lines...
I've said more than once in my life that you can see things at least two different ways (it's the big picture t0 which I am referring). You can see it (the universe, universal truth) as a giant globe with an infinite amount of tiny cracks and crevices - details, or you can just see it as simply a giant "one" sort of thing. Complete.
Intricate, if you wish.
Or Plain and Simple, if you wish.
The viewing of it doesn't change the whole, it only changes the perception of it.
I'm sort of coming into an understanding of myself - at least in moments- that I'm -at present- a "detail" sort of girl.
My home doesn't consist of sparse simplicity, but one of details. Most of my walls are painted with more than one color. I have many pictures decorating my walls. My decorating style is predominantly Victorian. Not a very "plain" style, admittedly. I like the "storybook cottage" sort of look.
I like details. I like romance. Pictures of mama's blowing bubbles for babies. Children being mauled by a litter of kittens. The sound of a little boys laughter while being tumbled by puppies. My gardens are cottage style. No neat and tidy rows of tomatoes and green beans. Tomatoes next to basil, mixed in with foxgloves with a backdrop of hollyhocks. Filled with all the things I love. Beauty above practicality.
This observation of my self is not new to me, but it was lately brought on by my friend (alright, it's Melissia)'s post. She wrote about being Opinionated vs. being Authentic. While I am not challenged by her thoughts (defensive), as a friend of hers, I am intrigued by her thoughts, and I relate her experiences and stories to my own life.
That's the great thing about having friends, they challenge your thinking and judgments unrepentantly, and spur you to expand your own thinking and introspection.
All in the name of personal -or spirtitual- growth.

Sidenote: I learned today on Saturday -er, Sunday morning cartoons What the most vocalized/common word in the English language is. I was thinking "the", or "a". No, indeed. It is "I".
Hmm.
Probably a more revised and edited version of this post to come. I'm presently in the middle of making Chocolate Chip Cookies with the babes.
G'night.

note later by author: I may have given the impression that I disagreed with Melissia's beautiful and serene observation. Not so. I know her words to be truth, indeed, the spirit has no ego and nothing to prove. I was only questioning my own need to hang onto certain things in my life, and then coming to the conclusion that for now, such things are a big part of Who I Am, and that I'm alright with that.
Much thanks to her for getting me thinking about self acceptance.
Stephanie

Kudos To Mama!

Not me, but mine.
Hooray for mine for saying "All my girls homeschool!" Proudly!, instead of shamefully. Different methods and ways, but equally important and beneficial, in her eyes.
Love to you, Mom,
Steph

Evolution Part IV

This post is going to be about a few thoughts rolling around in my head. I think. (I never really know where I'm going when I sit down.)

I've been having mixed emotions about the events of last weekend, ie the events that led up to my comments on Rebellion.
The feelings that were dredged up were strange for me. Not strange, as in unfamiliar, but strange, as they no longer belong to me, really. They are a part of my past, yes, but especially in the last few months, as I have been building stronger friendships with my RU Mama's, as I think of them, I've not had any real resentment for my community at large, or its judgments. As I come to be closer to others in a community of people I respect, there are less thoughts or considerations for those that I just don't associate with.
Which I've always really believed in - that everyone creates his or her own world. I've always lived in a grand, magical place. Sometimes boogymen sneak in when I'm not paying attention, but they're usually dispatched fairly quickly. (I think Those Damned Rebels was part of that dispatching process.)

***
So I've been beating myself up and lamenting that I cannot just be this sublime being who is able to walk on water, materialize things by just opening my hand, enter a state of absolute peace just by knowing that it's possible, and having the ability to quiet any disturbances in a room simply by entering it.
And then I hear my own words (while writing my last blog entry) about until I am ready to let go of the ego, and my individuality, I'm just not ready to be God.

That's always been the issue. I don't think I'm the greatest, or even terribly interesting, fascinating, or wise, or intelligent. But, for some reason, I like me. Isn't that odd? And probably very sad, but let's not drag that in just yet. (I don't mean I'm unlikable, I mean it's really unenlightened that I'm so attached to who I am. Something sort of smirking about that.)
I've actually had this concrete thought for several years, now. That while making ourselves one with The All, - Peace, Love, Completion, we willingly lose ourselves to it.

There is something here that's a bit scary for me... I don't think it's quite that I'll lose myself, and that I'll cease to exist, really, but maybe I do. Maybe (I'm staring out the window as I type this) I've not yet experienced that Greatness enough to be comfortable enough to let it (me) go.

This thought makes me feel so juvenile, and shallow. Makes me feel like I'm a teen-ager who has stolen a car, knowing he's wrong, but wants... Madly... to go on a joy ride. How ridiculous is that? Makes me think I'm a lot less far down the road than I had imagined myself to be, I'll tell you that!

Gonna think about this some more.
Hmmph.

Those Damned Rebels - Final Thoughts

Although I wanted to explore this subject that has recently been on my mind, as I said, I know that I came across as really harsh and judging.
Sort of in attack and defense mode.
I've been revisiting old opinions and old thoughts, reliving certain moments of my life.
I usually don't live with such disdainful thoughts and actions.
I read a quote today by Adolph Hitler that said "Those who want to live, let them fight, and those who do not want to fight in this world of eternal struggle do not deserve to live."
What a way of viewing the world. How sad that one would never know any happiness or peace, and instead have to struggle in fear and anger for every moment of contentment.

I imagine that I might have given the impression in my recent posts that I believe dissention and rebellion is key to one's happiness.
I'm sorry for implying that.
I was trying to say that I think it imperative for each person to discover Truth for themselves. An honest discovery. By exploring, examining, measuring, questioning, and doubting what they've been told. Not just accepting what you've been born into. Sometimes the doing of it appears to be rebelliousness.
I'm pretty sure this is what everyone means when they talk of finding yourself. Personally, I've never had a huge life-altering moment, (think Talking Heads ..."same as it ever was....same as it ever was....
And you may ask yourself
What is that beautiful house?
And you may ask yourself
Where does that highway go?
And you may ask yourself
Am I right?...Am I wrong?
And you may tell yourself
MY GOD!...WHAT HAVE I DONE? ", but I've been on a path of self discovery since about 14, I think. (I'm now 38.)
Maybe now I'm just trying to justify all of the parts of myself. My rebelliousness. My emotionalism. Cantankerous. Bratty. Egocentric. Proud, sometimes. Smug, sometimes. Caring. Worried.
Irreverant. Serious. Sarcastic. Optimistic. Pessimistic. Generous. Selfish. Wise and ridiculous.
To what end I make this examination, I don't know.
Maybe this aspect of who I am should just be examined, explained, and celebrated from time to time.
As crazy at is seems, maybe I'm living my best life (representing who I am) by experiencing Beastly as well as Sublime.
Well, it's not in line with the Perfect End, which will be only Love, of course, but until I'm ready to let go of the ego, and my individuality, maybe these parts of me should just be celebrated and enjoyed.

Those Damned Rebels! Part II - Defense of the Sheep

I thought it would be longer before I continued this post, but it's been on my mind, and I didn't really like leaving it on such a judgmental note.
So off I go....

Sheep seems a really unkind way to express it. It implies unintelligence, not thinking, and living life the way everyone else does, following your neighbor's lead, if not following society's.
But I get so drained when I hear people just repeat opinions that they've heard. Church leaders, politicians, neighbors, whatever they heard on the news, etc.
To my mind, you cannot respectably fit into the role of Follower (complacent and content) until you have at least a few times tried on the role of Leader. Or better yet, that of the Rebel.
If you're the first to think a thought, and act upon it, simply because you feel it, way inside, because you know it's the right thing to do for you, and couldn't care less who disapproves of it - your extended family, the neighborhood gossip, your playgroup parents, the lady who cuts your hair.... then you've come into your own Truth. It's simply a matter of taking something you've heard, or been taught, and really examined it. Take it out and look at it, and see if the Truth is really your own. Why does it make sense? What about it doesn't? Is it freeing? Is it constraining? Does it make you fly? Does it make you feel shame? Do you not doubt it at all? If not, why not? Does it make you feel totally at peace?
Even if it's something you already thought you believed, and after examination you realize "Yes, I really do believe that!" or I know, or I Feel, or I Am. The knowing of it after rethinking and being open minded will make you stand taller and stronger. And be in peace.

Besides of comprising 90% of our society (maybe it's not that high), followers have a place in our society as Worker Bees. They're perfectly happy (seemingly) to pick up the garbage after the parade. Which I think is alright, as I said, if you've done the self examination and determined that's where your truth lies. But not if it's becasue you don't have the guts to live your life any other way! It's not hard to stand up to society. And the more you do it, the taller and stronger you get.

Where I think I am possibly Perfectly Wrong in all of this thinking is that though I scoff at the idea of there being "Security in Numbers", in a spiritual sense it almost makes sense. What I mean is - provided you accept the ultimate truth of "We Are All One", then being a member of the flock will bring you into the bosom a little more, where you might find a firmer sense of brotherhood. I've a long way to go on this one. Though I accept it as Truth, it's not something I experience, or know intimately. I feel connected with God (Goddess, The Source, Allah, you choose), and feel one with Her, but currently I feel pretty disconnected from my fellow man in general. So I've got work to do.

On the other hand, I don't believe in any religion, or believe that the purpose of life is to get here, follow the rules, make the sacrifices, and if you Suffer Greatly, then you'll receive your rewards in Heaven.
I believe in a non-judging, non-condemning God.
I believe (know) that the purpose of life is to (yet again) "Live the Grandest Version of the Grandest Vision you ever had for Yourself." (Neale Donald Walsch)
I believe God knows and experiences itself through us. (joyfully and completely)
And if we make it mandatory to limit that experience, then it's not going to be a very exciting and enlightening ride. I believe the Universe - Energy - God - is comprised of all of it. Accepting it all, not judging. Just Being.

Ultimately I think the goal is to experience a sense of brotherhood, but I really think it's an essential step to stand alone before quietly stepping into somewhere of the middle of the line.

Those Damned Rebels! Part I - The Judgment

I'd like to start off this post by a quote, handed over very recently by my friend Julie. I raise my glass in a toast....

" Here's to the crazy ones. The misfits. The rebels. The troublemakers. The round heads in the square holes. The ones who see things differently. They're not fond of rules, and they have no respect for the status-quo. You can quote them, disagree with them, glorify or vilify them. But the only things you can't do is ignore them. Because they change things. They push the human race forward. And while some may see them as the crazy ones, we see genius. Because the people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world, are the ones who do." - "Think Different" Advertisement - Apple Computers.

It's come up in my community recently (and even before that I meant to address this particular topic) that rebels are a Bad, Bad Thing.

As a young child I was always friendly, polite, easy-going, and generally agreeable. That wasn't really because I was out to impress anyone, though it was pleasant enough to hear that I was a sweet kid, but I just wasn't a 'beat my chest in anguish' sort of girl.
Later, at about 14, that started to change. Not that I had something to fight against, but rather that I had something to say. At fifteen I started sporting a mohawk. Colored a tail I had in front. Pink, blue, green, whatever suited me. Shaved my head in back and on the sides - patterns, bald, -again, whatever. Hung out with Punks. Not punks, as in slang, but real Punks... safety pins in their ears, slashed jeans, mohawks, punk music, Honest to God Punk Rockers. I Wanna Be... Anarchy. Yeah.
I figured the 60's had the hippies to get society's attention, the early-mid eighties had punk rock. (well, at that time it was early-mid eighties. Punk had been around for quite some time by then, but was now really picking up speed.)
It wasn't a pretense... I was one of them.
I wrote poetry about anti-establishment, "down with picket fences" :) (ha!), and conformity.
I was called names in school, heard a million times (even in Dairy Queens in the Mall) "Did you stick your finger in a light socket? Ha, ha, ha!", and a few unimaginitive variations of the same.
My favorite (honestly... it was at least original) was a cowboy in my Junior year History class asking me if I had had brain surgery. That made me laugh. It was a really open class, and remarkably we had a pretty good respect for eachother. (we were, after all, both totally Anti Preppies! :) )

Which brings me to my point.
I've never been interested in Fitting In with mainstream society. I've disdained it for most of my life. Still do, as a matter of fact.

It just really bothers me when people's main desire in life is simply to Blend In, and to Not Make Waves. To go along with what others tell them. For this to me is perhaps the ultimate sin, which is to not think for yourself.
I view life's purpose as finding your own truth. I pretty much scorn sheeplehood, though I know it's unkind. I don't repect it. I don't respect mindless obedience. I think it's easy, unconsidered, a cop-out, familiar, and too comfortable.

Though I do notice that without the yuppies, the preppies, the squares, and the same-olds, the Non-Conformists and the Rebels and the Eccentrics and the Heroes just wouldn't be the sparkly and fascinating creatures that they are. So I suppose they have their place, for without the experience of the Follower, we would't have the arresting inquiries from the Seeker.

And on that note, I'll continue next time in Defense of the Sheep, I s'pose. Though I'll call it Part II, of course.

Staring into the Chocolate Lucky Charms Abyss

Yup.
I finally did it.
Finally drew a deep breath.... shut my eyes tight.....calmed my racing heart......and said......."Okay, son."
(shudder)

This was Friday.
So let's have one more for good measure. again. (shudder)

He's been asking for a long time, for several months - probably since they first came out.
I told him (quite honestly) that I didn't think he'd like them, as he usually doesn't like stuff like that - pretend food. But he kept asking, and I kept saying "not today."

So I've been thinking about it, and went through the thoughts of "what if he likes them?" and considering what, exactly I've been objecting to. Besides the eew factor.

He had his first bowl last night. I poured a half bowl, in case he didn't like it. He did.

After the small bowl of lucky charms he had a whole ham sandwich. (I'd like to insert here that we buy nitrate-free meats and organic milks, vegetables and fruits, so my children are exposed to mostly healthy foods.) Then celery, carrots, cherry tomatos, pretzels, a popsicle, more celery, cucumber slices, and a few other things that I can't remember. All in about two hours.

I don't know what I was worried about. It's not as if I'm feeding him a bowl of Chocolate Lucky Charms and then calling it good and sending him off to school. Or expect that to last him throughout the day. It's not even terribly likely that he'll even eat them for breakfast. Might be lunch. Or after lunch. Or (rolling my eyes) more likely, as we're cooking dinner.

Since life ebbs and flows, and this week I was an observer, and not a doer, it was the perfect time for me to pull out my RU WonderMama cape and fly into the Chocolate Lucky Charms abyss.

And I came out alright. I'm not soggy. It's funny how if you don't give something magical powers, and just view it for what it is it just sort of quickly fades into the background.
Now it's a non-issue. I'm unattached to them.
And I don't have a single one of the sticky little things stuck in my hair or to my cape.

Service

If you're into metaphysics, or imagine yourself to be on a "higher" path (I don't mean to judge, but we sometimes have these moments), then the thought may come up once in a while that your life should be about Service. "How may I serve?" may seem the (necessary for inner peace) mantra or building block for all of your endeavors.
And, if you aren't, then mayhaps you're laden with guilt, and self blame.
I've been pondering this lately, though perhaps sometimes on the back burner, and not at the forefront, where it's obvious.
"How may I serve?"
Groan.
I am selfish.
I'm imbalanced.
I'm easily riled.
Perhaps I shouldn't be a mother.
Perhaps I shouldn't be a wife.
Perhaps I shouldn't be a member of society, but a recluse on a hill (somewhere relatively warm) where I can grow my own plants and commune with the ocean Every Day of my life.
Service? I know what it means. Or should mean. I don't have it.

But then, wait....

A thought comes to me, that service of one kind... might be different from another's.
Someone like Me.

My servitude might not look like teaching at a library for Women's Literacy (which I long to someday do). It might not look like donating time at the hostpital for AIDS patients. Or organizing blood drives. It might not be a 10% tithe to a church.
But that doesn't make it any less.
My time is offered to home educator's. It's giving others resources. It's connecting those in my community. It's speaking my mind. It's offering an alternate opinion, lending my ear, speaking my truth, and putting my heart on the line, and laying it bare for anyone to step on, condemn, or judge. Again and again.

It's something I can do.... I've never been one to need the approval of my society at large. That's not to say that it costs me nothing, for that isn't true. Sometimes it costs me the esteem of those I would like to call friend.

But my contributions are different. They're more.... me.

I live my life according to my own truth, and raise my children while being conscious that I want the world to be a better place.

I spose we all gotta do it the best way we know how.