Self Portrait!

I've been painting.

The swirling colors of red, bronze and baby puke green ooze from their paint tubes and demand display on the canvas. What you see here is the beginning of my self-portrait...

I think that this painting already reflects the zombied, toxic waste kind of feeling that I have bubbling under my skin. I just feel....wasted. Not "drunk wasted"mind you; it's more of a "used up wasted".

I began this self portrait because I desire to give voice and vision to the under current of sorrow and self-loathing that seems to bubble up from within my soul. I am convinced that if I can just expose this part of myself to the light, healing will happen.

So I paint...and you know what?

I already feel better!

The Unfeeling President!

I detest the President.

I don't have the eloquence or the ability to adequately articulate my disdain for George Bush and the current administration; but there is someone who does.

Please go read E.L. Doctorow's essay entitled, "The Unfeeling President".
http://www.easthamptonstar.com/20040909/col5.htm

Doctorow articulates what I feel but am unable to express in words. I myself am beyond words. I am sorrowing for all that we, the American people have lost and may yet stand to lose under this administration.

Just click the link and read. It's worth the five minutes out of your day.

Just Kill It!

Ok, so I belong to a bead related e-group and the other day a woman writes in detailing how her Mom has died and how she promised her Mom that she would take care of her Mom's cat after her Mother's death.

Follow me so far?

Well then the writer describes how the cat is seriously psycho and has bitten her child, blah, blah, blah. The woman's next questions concern the pending euthenization of her cat. Should she put the cat down? How could she do that and still honor her mother's wishes.....blah, blah blah.

The responses so far from our e-group members have read something like this, "I love animals; but if one bites my kid, it's toast!"

Hmmmmm, here's a cat that has lost everything familiar. It's home is gone, it's human companion is gone and suddenly it is thrust into a new environment. There are kids and noises and other distractions......

The cat responds with biting and we all stand around saying, "Baaad kitty! Baaad kitty!"

Or worse yet, we respond with, "Just kill it! Kill it! Kill it!"

Am I the only one here that sees the insanity of this?

Can't anyone else see the obvious solution of finding an older person or couple who desire a pet companion and who might be willing to welcome this cat into their home?

Why are we so quick to respond with, "Just kill it!"?

"Just kill it!"

What a mantra for the modern world....

Metal detector uncovers a wealth of memories!

Tonite at dinner, my 14 year old asks, "How much does a metal detector cost?"

Surprised I replied, "Well, why do you ask?"

My daughter shoots back, "Because I think I want one for Christmas!

A metal detector? My 14 year old daughter wants a metal detector?

What thoughts swirl inside that amazing head of hers to incline her to desire a metal detector? When most other 14 year olds are asking for cd's, shoes, clothes and bling-bling, my darling daughter requests a metal detector?

Does she truly believe that there is still buried treasure in this tired, worn out world of ours?

I know the answer to that question because I asked my daughter, and guess what? She does!

How very blessed she is to be imbued with the belief that something wonderful lies hidden in the world around her! She may never unearth any worldly treasure; but I guarantee that the adventure of searching will provide her with a wealth of memories that most of us won't even dare to dream!

I don't understand why I occasionally forget that there is still mystery in the world.

I'm just grateful that all it takes is a 14 year old armed with a metal detector to re-ignite my old dreams of buried treasure!

Undecided?

Do you know which candidate you intend to vote for in this coming Presidential election?

How is it possible that anyone could still be "undecided"?

If you are (and it baffles me how you could be) go check out this website. It will give you simple, unbiased and factual data that contrasts and compares the last three administrations' numbers on important things like poverty, war spending, unemployment...stuff like that!

Even if you already think you know which candidate is going to get your vote, check this site out. It won't take you long, and the site is easy to navigate. Who knows, you might even be surprised by what you read there!

http://www.readythinkvote.com/index.html

If you aren't registered to vote, get your keester off the couch and get registered. Then when election day rolls around, bounce that behind of yours on over to the election polls and cast your ballot.

I'm guessing that more Americans will make beer runs, than will vote on election day.....

Maybe we should offer a free Budweiser with every ballot?

Hmmmm, that just might work!

Jerri

Two More Lost.

This morning, I woke up, I scanned the headlines on the front page of our local newspaper and I read, "2 Oregon Guardsmen Killed in Iraq" This brings Oregon's contribution to the American war dead in Iraq to 24.

24 lives lost. Gone forever. Dead.

I am horrified by the images that stream out from Iraq. I am horrified by the loss, the destruction and the death. Civilians and soldiers, warmongers and pacifists, all swirled together in one bloody picture of man's inhumanity to man.

Do you all see what I see?

Or do you hide your eyes under your hands and pretend?

As you drive your SUV, sipping your latte, does it even cross your mind that there are families wailing with grief over the loss of their loved ones who have fallen in this senseless and sanctioned violence we call war?

How much longer will we close our eyes to the devastation and the death that war inevitably produces?



How much longer?

Poor Me Syndrome!

Today, I have a raging case of PMS!

I'm not talking about a mild case either! I'm talking about a full blown, in your face case of PMS!

Now some of you might think I am referring to Pre-Menstrual Syndrome; but the PMS, I have is far different and much, much worse!

I'm suffering from what I like to call Poor Me Syndrome. I'm convinced that many people suffer from this ubiquitous form of PMS. I think we've all been around our fellow whiners and moaners enough to know that this is true.

So here I sit. I have food in my refrigerator. The bills are (mostly) paid. The kids are hale and hearty. My husband loves me. The sun is shining and all I can do is wallow about like some cantankerous pig in the mud of my own PMS!

Ugh! Or should I say, "oink"?

Just throw me a bone already!

Today, as my three year old sat at the breakfast table laughing and gnoshing on fried eggs and toast, she looked up with a delighted face and exclaimed, "Mommy, you are so funny!"

Somewhat startled I asked, "Ciara, why do you think I'm so funny?"

With the simplicity and directness so frequently found in three year olds she replied, "Because Silly, you make me laugh!"

I think what struck me as so extraordinary about this rather mundane conversation was the realization that outside of my immediate family, it is highly improbable that other people think I am the least bit funny.

I wonder why this is?

Is it because I am too afraid to expose this silly side of myself to others? Am I so concerned about what others might think of me that I won't risk revealing the humor that so magically transforms a three year old child into a 30 pound bundle of giggles and glee?

I know that I hide too much of myself from the outside world and that I miss much by doing so.

On days like this, I cannot help but wonder why I choose to walk this tightrope of tension between desiring to be known as I truly am and fearing the transparency that is required.

The answer to all this wondering is quite simple really; but it's one I choose to ignore. Until I am willing to admit to my own self-loathing and fear, I will never be completely free to be the woman I am meant to be.

If another person were admitting this to me about themselves I would want to cover them with my love and acceptance. I would want to tenderly whisper love into their life, hoping against hope, that some would filter through like osmosis and take root in their soul.

This is what I want and need for myself. My Christian friends tell me God has already done this for me. One would think I would know if God had suffused my spirit with His love; but I see little evidence of this supernatural event having occurred...

The question then becomes, do I need the evidence in order to believe? In this one instance I say "Yes!" Yes, I do need some verifiable proof. Would it be asking too much for God to throw this old dog a bone?

I'm asking you God, in full view of any who might actually read this blog, I'm asking. Just throw me a bone, ok?

Jerri

Letting go.

Letting go can be so freaking difficult.

I seem to have an unnatural instinct that compels me to hold on, to preserve, to maintain. I don't let go of anything very well.

I try to let go gracefully, but I rarely let go easily....

Today my youngest child went to preschool for the very first time. As I watched her leave, I smiled and waved and blew kisses; but inside my guts were knotted as I was forced to accept that my baby was moving further away from me and transitioning into the world at large.

It's a natural thing to venture beyond the influence of one's mother. It's healthy to seek the experiences that lie beyond a mother's reach. I know this to be true. I even celebrate this truth; but part of me mourns as well.

Like I said, I don't let go very easily. It's hard to let go gracefully; but I must. The alternative would be to smother the child that I love so profoundly.

So with a knotted gut and firm resolve, I do what every mother must eventually do.

I let her go.

Bloody Stool....

Lately, I've been an emotional mess. The events of this day have done nothing to help matters either.

Just a few moments ago, I entered the kitchen only to discover alarming amounts of dog feces and blood all over the linoleum. Clearly our little Lily beast has blood in her stool. I suspect that this is not a good thing and I'm certain that our visit to the vet later today will confirm that suspicion.

I also received a letter from my Grandfather today. It's been nearly a year since my Grandmother died. My Grandfather's loneliness and grief permeated his note. I was defenseless against the raw sorrow that I read there. His stark emotion rose out from the written word and pierced my heart.

I was left shaken and crying by his concluding lines "Bert passed at 10:30 pm on October 6th. God I miss her. I have to sign off now and cry."

In that one moment, all of the loss I've experienced this past year swept back over me in a wave of quiet despair.

I feel as though I cannot bear another loss. There have simply been too many losses this past year, and right now, one more might leave me completely and utterly bereft.

What will happen then? Will I simply slip away into my own nightmarish world of sorrow and grief?

And if that should happen, what then of my Grandfather? Who will bear witness to his pain and suffering?

What strange questions on such a lovely day.....

Screaming Hearts!

Do you suppose that it is possible for our hearts to scream?

I'm convinced that mine has and does....

I've heard it's peeling scream in the midst of my own grief. I've heard it screaming in righteous anger for abused children. I've heard it scream out to God for comfort and peace...

Today my heart is too tired to scream. Like the day before, I seem lost in my own weariness. I'm tired dammit! Not that anyone cares; but it feels good just to say it.

By the way, did I mention that I'm tired?

Jerri

Wanna be your hands!

There's a song stuck in my head this morning. It won't leave me alone. It just keeps playing and playing...

Several lines go like this, "I wanna be your hands! Wanna be your feet! I want to go where you send me! Go where you send me!"

For those of you who don't know, this is a Christian song and it's speaking of the singer's longing to serve God. I've mentioned in other posts that I'm one of those "second rate" kind of Christians. I'm the kind of Christian who openly admits that God doesn't fit into a nice tidy box. I'm the kind that wrestles and questions and wonders.

Ahhh, but getting back to the tune...

When I hear this song I cannot help but wonder, "Does God really give other Christians roadmaps for their lives? Do they really know when and where God is sending them? Do they really understand what it means to serve, to be the hands and feet of Christ?

I think that there are some us in the world, who do believe that God will conveniently plunk secret spiritual roadmaps into our laps. George Bush seems to be such a man and some of the Christian right seem to think he's such a man.

George Bush also seems to think it his mission is to save America by invading foreign soil. Bush certainly has no qualms about sending this nation's sons and daughters to die on foreign soil. He's rather bold about sending others, don't you think?

Does Bush have any idea what it means to serve this country? I'm not sure that our president has a clue about what it means to serve. He may want to "help"; but helping is a relationship of inequality. It implies one person is stronger, reaching down to lift up another. It has been my profound experience in helping others that I sometimes rob them of more than I give by helping in the first place....

Serving on the other hand, well serving is a relationship of equality. It is about bringing out into the world for others, all that is whole and healthy in ourselves. Is this what our politicians are doing? Are they truly serving?

If I were able to ask all of our declared Christian congressmen and women just one two fold question, that question would be it, "Are you truly serving and if so, whom are you serving?"

I wonder what they would answer, if they answered at all?

Jerri

Om!

"In the beginning was the word...For the Hindus & Buddhists, Om is the primordial sound, the first breath of creation, the vibration that ensures existence."

I need a sound that ensures my existence today. I feel out of touch with the ordinary and lost to the extraordinary. It's as if I need to focus all of my energy on simply being.

I wonder if quietly intoning "Om" will help?

Jerri