and PASSION that currently drive you…
evolve into LOVE and COMPASSION…
for your world and your sister-brother humans…
and only then…
will you have finally found the
Sometimes there’s a fog upon the land
and one cannot see one’s way
Then an opening appears…
And one can find one’s way through…
Journal Entry: July 22, 2011
The temperature index range today is 106 to 112 degrees, so I know where my ass will be for the second day in a row. It’s even too hot at night to go out walking. Guess I’ll continue cleaning the apartment for exercise. I’ll walk around the house a lot—like my mother used to do—from room to room all night long. What a mad woman and no one to help her. All she had was her job and her money—that was her Savior.
I do have compassion for her now. How great her suffering must have been all of her life—from the age of eight. And no useful help; not the rich inner life that I have always had or trained outside help like psychotherapy; or the many support groups from whom I’ve benefitted through the years. I spent most of my adult life first recognizing, then accepting and owning my wounds; and then finally doing something about them. I still am involved in what appears to be a lifelong process of healing and growth. This very act of journal writing is part of “doing the work,” clearing the passageway; purifying the vehicle the instrument through which the Creation continues to unfold…
I am so grateful for this sacred time in which to turn one hundred percent of my attention…my life energy…to my passions; to the callings of my heart. I have ceased the years-long writing and re-writing of my novel. I have kissed the ghosts of those old characters good-bye and have moved on. I completed a short story; the first in more than twenty years. I’ve entered my writing and photography into competition and am actively researching online markets for my completed short story—the first of many lined up in consciousness waiting to be heard and told.
I now give very little of my attention and energy to the never-ending stream of events, circumstances and people in my external world. I am alive again. I am free. I am blessed. I am aware of being part of a world in healing; of a reversal of human focus and expenditure of energy. I am consciously connected to the One Energy—which, I am learning is a powerful, benevolent, intelligent creative force available to everyone to be used as one chooses. It comes down to the one choice we humans have—whether or not we realize it—and that sole choice is between “God and the mammon”…Spirit or Flesh…Inner or Outer…
Finally (or is it once again!), I find myself at that crossroad of choice and I make the only intelligent choice. This time I’m sticking to it!
May the Force be with my Bertha butt!
JOURNAL ENTRY: JULY 12, 2011
Been away from blogging for a while. Busy living…thinking…contemplating my navel—learning and growing…I hope…
Decided to fast-forward re the cancer “event.” Yes, that was exactly what it turned out to be: an event—an opportunity for me to learn about who I am and why I’m here—an occasion for growth. And so, I stopped the chemo, chose life and turned within to what I call Divine Intelligence…a loving God…Spirit…and asked to be directed. There immediately followed radio announcements, chance conversations and unexpected visitors all bringing me exactly what I needed at the very moment of that need. And since that decisive day in early 2008 to this twelfth day of July, 2011, I have enjoyed the fullness of radiant health.
I’m not really sure of the direction that this Blog will now take. It is no longer up to me for I have fully and finally turned my gaze from the past; and in the here-now have submitted—surrendered—the complete and total focus of my attention to that Inner Presence.
A page from this morning’s writings may clarify:
…enough already! Let all of that crap go! It owns you. It is still alive and well living in, as, through you! Do not think upon the past. Whenever a thought pops into mind—along with its BAD FEELINGS, simply replace it with TRUTH! And what is truth?
It’s the same old story—the same old choice: Heaven or Earth; God or the mammon? Earth and the mammon being the creations of the “i. Versus La Diosa Crista adentro, the Christ within Who will take the oars of this “boat,” if permitted, and row it in a direction that the “i” did not chose; into areas that are yet unformed; unseen and unimaginable from the vantage point of the “i.” .
It is simply time for me to turn from contemplation of the past and begin honoring my imagination and creativity right here-now in the present; allowing my life…my very breath to flow not from the “i” but from the Center of my being where dwells That Which Breathes All into Reality…
Blog Page: 6/1/11
Find myself very much in the present—in the here and now—again today. My journals from 2007 through 2010 lay in a pile at my feet as I sit gazing out at my river.
Perhaps this moment—and every moment of my life—is the unfolding of the journey through breast cancer to wholeness? Perhaps this is what I came to do—to be—the why of my being here-now. Perhaps this me-now is the elusive purpose in being I eternally seek.
I’ve been brought to myself and to my Self; sitting and being in the NOW—in the present—and allowing the doing to flow seamlessly from the being.
For the second day this week, I am putting aside my current journal, ignoring the stack of old journals and picking up my legal pad and fresh Precise V5, extra fine pen: my writing tools. The Writer has awakened. I can feel Her stirring within. And She’s not here to begin another rewrite of my 19 year old unpublished novel. Nor is She here to add another journal to the closet full of the pain, pathos, joy and love documented by me for the past 38 years of my life.
I am pulled in this moment by an irresistible urge to put pen to pad and write for my Blog. The Writer within understands, even if I don’t, how my telephone conversation of just moments before has everything to do with the journey to wholeness witnessed in these blog pages. A journey that began some four years ago when I stood at that fork in the road: that juncture where the sign on the path that went off to the left read: Death, while the other path, pointing towards a long stretch of road to the right, bore a sign which read: Life. I know that The Writer knows exactly how this tale that I’m about to relate fits in perfectly with Her Purpose, Her Direction, Her Goals—in all of this “blogging”.
So, excuse me, journals from the past. Perhaps I’ll get back to you and perhaps I won’t. But right now—in this here and now—I must follow that gentle nudging from within.
I just hung up the telephone after talking with my make believe, godmother, E., a woman in her late 80s? Early 90s? I remembered that she had told me the other night that her sister, D., was in the hospital. I think D. must be in her mid-80s. Despite the fact that both women are friends of my mother’s whom I’ve known since childhood, I’m unsure of their ages because E. behaves as if the disclosure of a woman’s true age is a cosmic secret, the revelation of which, results in a long and painful death.
Anyhoo…E. had told me the other night that her 80 something year old sister had fallen in her home and broken her hip. The doctors could not operate for reasons I know not—don’t think E. knew either—and the doctors said that the sister would never walk again. What was unspoken—LOUDLY AND CLEARLY—was the likelihood that this was the beginning of her sister’s journey from the flesh to wherever.
Today I called E. to get her sister’s hospital telephone number so that I might wish her well. E. started in immediately telling me how bad the hip was, what bad shape her sister was in, how small and thin she was because she hadn’t been eating for months and her weight was now down to 80 something pounds, and, she added: as a matter of fact, there was something wrong with her heart and the doctors had wanted to do a procedure and she (D., the sister) said she didn’t want it done—it was something they put into her heart—but her daughter (E.’s sister’s daughter) told the doctors to go ahead and do the procedure anyway—so she (E.’s sister) just had it done…against her will! But then the doctors know best.
I NEARLY LOST IT!
It took every ounce of control I could summon to not scream and yell like a madwoman; the intensity of my anger—the seething I felt within—gave me pause. I breathed deeply and remained human…
“That is why,” I said to her calmly, “I have a living will. So that no one, not the doctors, my children or grandchildren will have my artificially sustained body—with all replaceable parts having been replaced—tubes hanging from every orifice—warehoused in the back wards of some hospital bringing in obscene profits to the U.S. Pharmaceutical-Medical Industrial Complex—perhaps for years—while they “prolong my life” with the latest drugs and gadgets created by white men in white coats in white labs.
“That is not life. That is not living and it was highly disrespectful of your sister’s daughter and her doctors to go against your sister’s wishes and desires as regards her own body and life. How dare they? Is it a basic deep-seated fear of the unmentionable: death—dying—that drives us to the ridiculous rather than let go of our loved-ones? We are going to die. Your sister is going to die. You are going to die. I am going to die.
“Perhaps if we changed our perspective, we could erase the fear of death. I respect the Life that is behind and beyond this living breathing body; that Life from whence my being unfolds. It decides when to leave this human form to travel on to I know not where. And when, for whatever causes, the miraculous systems and organs of this beautiful creation I call my body begin to break down, I will know that it is time to leave. I will know when the end of this mysterious journey has arrived. I will then gladly surrender this life to its rightful Owner: that which lives in, as and through this flesh form; and journey off to the next adventure in being. AND I WILL NOT SUFFER ANY INTERFERENCE BY ANYONE WITH THE START OF THE NEXT JOURNEY.
“So many of our rights are slowly being chipped away bit by bit—while we shop! Do we not have the right to die in peace? Or has that been placed in the hands of those who profit first from assaulting and destroying the human body with pharmaceuticals; and then by keeping it artificially sustained (they call it “alive”) for increasingly longer and longer periods of time. Do you realize the billions of dollars made from ‘prolonging life’?”
Before we hung up, my godmother, E., said to me in a very quiet, thoughtful tone of voice, “You know, you’ve made me see things from a different…”
“Perspective,” I said.
“Yes,” she answered.
Have I altered yours? Even a teensy-weensy bit?
A Harlem: A Reflection of Life’s Cycles
Today, the spotlight of my gaze shifts from the past to here-now.
Yesterday a good friend of mine and I drifted through Harlem. We flowed with the current of this Memorial Day Sunday, allowing it to carry us along as we relaxed into Life and re-connected with the Village of Harlem.
I loved the quaintness of the French Bistro on 7th, and the TAKE THIS CRAP FOR FREE yard “sale” outside that brownstone on 139th Street. I now have a cake of handmade soap, a work of art that adds to the uniqueness of my bathroom decor; and yet another book to add to the overflowing piles in every room of my apartment.
I love the fact that I am now inspired to clean the crap from my own closets and drawers and set up a TAKE THIS CRAP FOR FREE corner in the laundry room of my building. I am always seeking ways in which I may begin to live a life of more giving and less taking.
Harlem loves me and I love Harlem. I love drumming with the folks in Marcus Garvey Park on as many Saturdays as I get my Bertha butt out of the house and on the express bus to Manhattan.
I love the hustle and bustle—the unique Harlem energy—of 125th Street where I sometimes walk the strip from 8th Avenue to 3rd—just for the feel of it. (Sorry, I’m old school and can’t remember those new names for the Avenues I’ve known since childhood!)
I loved the crush of Sunday tourists at brunch up at Londell’s yesterday; the accents; the cacophony of so many foreign tongues; the strangeness of so many white faces.
Then…there were the closed for-business-businesses…the gated storefronts…block after block after block…
Melancholy…bittersweet is what I begin to feel as I battle to accept the changing face of Harlem.
Death and rebirth…decay and new life growing from that decay…like the cycles of my own life.
Like Harlem, I experience my own mini-deaths each day as the no-longer-useful parts of who I’ve been gradually die-off to make room for the birthing of La Diosa–Crista.
And then one day—behold—a new face…a new form…a new life.
Just like Harlem.
My “Conversations with God” October 5, – October 8, 2007
Looking at Oprah. Elizabeth Gilbert, the author of Eat, Pray, Love is being interviewed. I am feeling very jealous; but knowing that it is now that I must truly turn to God for answers for I KNOW NOT WHAT TO DO. Am very frightened re prospect of chemotherapy.
What do I do, my God? Please direct me. Thank You.
Immediate Inner Response:
This, my dear is the beginning of the real journey. Jimmy (my dead father!) will deliver the vehicle you will ride inward to the Voice and Wisdom of the Divine. All answers—your way will unfold. And without thinking or planning or even knowing, you will find that way—your way—unfolding as you place one foot before the other and walk through your life.
And so, God, what am I supposed to do with this day? What is it You would have me do with this day of my life? What function? What purpose?
Immediate Inner Response:
The function and purpose of your life each day, my dear one, is to live it. Not from some pre-ordained, pre-arranged “Plan” set in heaven or in earth but to live moment by moment from the truth of your heart. That is the purpose, the function of any life.
Even I do not know what you will do, how you will live in the next second of your life. For what would be the role, the function of FREE WILL if all was already set in stone by ME or any other being?
So, instead of looking for a pre-known plan for each moment of my life, I will let it unfold as it will; paying strict attention to my own heart; my own desires; and stop trying to sublimate my desires to live the Buddhist Way; denying my desires because I believe them too carnal—too low-CHAKRA; not lofty enough for such a spiritually evolved being as I.
What do I really, really, really want today? Well, at this moment…a peaceful day of doing absolutely nothing. To be alone with my Self in a clean apartment without the woman being here to clean it. Peace. Solitude. Maybe just Y. (my niece visiting from out of town) coming over to talk and visit with me.
Did get a day alone. Well there was the visit from my friend, C. and J., the aide—but other than those two—alone—and came face to face with two of the seemingly many saboteurs who hide out within: Lady Vanity and Spoiled Child, who was actually getting into a snitch about Y., B. and G. going to my mother’s house and not coming over here. Spoiled Child “performed” for D. and the nurse, who both immediately put me in my selfish, self-centered, spoiled child place.
God, how do I trust myself? How do I know when it is the Self or just one of the many destructive, inner saboteurs running the show? How do I know the difference?
Immediate Inner Response:
You know by the consequences.
That’s not satisfactory. I want to avoid bad consequences by not performing the behavior that results in bad circumstances.
Immediate Inner Response:
When you feel the way you felt today; all irrationally emotional and not loved; like a neglected, unloved, abandoned child in face of the reality to the contrary; when you feel the way you did as a child—then you will know.
Well, what kind of day shall this be? Quiet? Pensive? Introspective? You know, God, I don’t know that I really know myself. I wonder…like Spoiled Child who threw a major tantrum yesterday because she was not the center of attention. Although in her heart, she didn’t truly want all of that company, she really expected her brother to go pick up her mother—her 87 year old mother who has been through carpal tunnel surgery, cataract surgery, two knee replacements, three heart attacks; open heart surgery; a mastectomy, a lumpectomy, radiation treatments and is who is on Tamoxifen and dozens of other drugs for-the-rest-of-her-life-mother—and bring all of them over here to Spoiled Child’s house.
Boy, I shocked and disappointed my friend, C. and of course, D., was thoroughly disgusted with me when I related the whole tale to them. Wow. It wasn’t until C. said what she said to me that I was able to look at myself and see what and who she and D. were seeing. Am I always so self-involved and self-centered? Probably.
Please help me to see myself as others see me; to see my behavior; to not let Spoiled Child and Lady Vanity run my life. Thank You. Is there anything You have to say to me this morning, God, which will perhaps cause this to be a better day? Any guidance? Direction?
Immediate Inner Response:
Stay awake. Don’t go back to sleep. Especially be very aware—attentive to your emotions. Remember how you felt when you had your Spoiled Child meltdown yesterday—the emotional pain, the anger, the feelings that they (your family) didn’t love you and that you, therefore, didn’t care about them; that you would just cross them out of your life. Ask yourself: when did you used to feel like that? When did you experience those same emotions? When you were a child! When you were not getting love in the way you needed it. When you feel that way now, it is a signal that—not so much the spoiled child—but the hurt, wounded, emotionally neglected and abandoned child has come back up to the surface of the personality, and is getting ready to run the show from her hurt, pain and wounds.
It is then time for you to remember, you are not that child any longer. You are very loved and respected by your brother, mother and especially by your nieces. They think that you are the greatest!
It is time for you to live up to the high image of yourself that you have put forward all of these years. You are being watched; from those above and those below. They are watching you very carefully to see how you come out of this challenge; a serious challenge, yes, but not necessarily deadly. Remember: you still call the shots about when to stay and when to leave; and what to do while you are here; about the quality of your journey; who you are and how you behave. Ask yourself: do I really want to stay here? What do I truly want in my heart?
My health back! My strength! My strong, beautiful body! To be whole! Disease-free!
I am a spiritual warrior. One who has a mission and is committed to that mission regardless of what obstacles may appear. And what is my mission? The fulfillment of my Soul’s purpose for being here-now.
I now commit myself with discipline to find my new path; to complete this transformation and to fulfill my Soul’s function and purpose this lifetime. And I can only know and express that by exploring the deepest and tiniest desires of my heart.
I now ride the rushing waves of my life! Living fully from every CHAKRA; even the first and second! I am ready to know myself again as a sexual being. I am willing to let go of old paradigms of which I am probably not even aware and within which I am still living. I release my past. I step out of the box and am ready to jump into the void—the unknown which will lead to freedom, joy, health, abundance and love…love…love!