Garden
The Quiet Garden of Forgiveness
Love, too, would set a feast before you, on a table covered with a spotless cloth, set in a quiet garden where no sound but singing and a softly joyous whispering is ever heard. T-19.IV.A.16:1
“There is a garden at the foot of this lovely statue with masses and masses of soft white lilies and little paths between to slowly walk and talk with Jesus. There is a fountain nearby and the forever trickling sound of water reminds us to leave the desert of wrong-minded thinking.” (Winnie)
Forgiveness is truly at the heart of the practice of A Course In Miracles. All of us have had moments of shifting our perception of a difficult situation, and finding peace. On this page I offer you the space to tell us about the stories that have stayed in your mind, times when you felt a real change occur in the way you were looking at a problem or upset. Maybe you were encountering aggressiveness in somone, or were being judged and belittled. Perhaps it was a loved one who had left you, or even a pet that had died. Or maybe there was fear, a threat in your life to you or to a loved one. In all these situations, at one time or another you have found peace beyond the pain, release from shame and sadness, and comfort and freedom in their place. There was always a presence there with you, the company of one who loves you and guides you to see differently. If you have had moments of finding that clear presence, please share it with us here.
A little more technically speaking, these would be moments when you reversed the projection and saw that the problem was not outside you, but with you, your perceptions and thoughts. A sudden moment of clarity perhaps when you saw that the upset was having pushed Love away, and not really what was happening outside you. Or perhaps it was just a moment when despite the upset or problem, you felt safely accompanied and that helped you remain unaffected by the problem, to get a little distance from it.
Please try to write concisely if your story requires a lot of explaining (and teach me something about brevity!). Also, please try to share from the heart and not from the head. It is always nice to hear the simple sincerity behind these inspiring stories.
The Moments of High Resolve
Keep Fresh Before me
The moments of my high resolve
Despite the dullness and barrenness of the days that pass, if I search with due diligence, I can always find a deposit left by some former radiance. But I had forgotten. At the time it was full-orbed, glorious, and resplendent. I was sure that I would never forget. In the moment of its fullness, I was sure that it would illumine my path for all the rest of my journey. I had forgotten how easy it is to forget.
There was no intent to betray what seemed so sure at the time. My response was whole, clean, authentic. But little by little, there crept into my life the dust and grit of the journey. Details, lower-level demands, all kinds of cross currents — nothing momentous, nothing overwhelming, nothing flagrant — just wear and tear. If there had been some direct challenge –a clear-cut issue — I would have fought it to the end, and beyond.
In the quietness of this place, surrounded by the all-pervading Presence of God, my heart whispers: Keep fresh before me the moments of my High Resolve, that in fair weather or in foul, in good times or in tempests, in the days when the darkness and the foe are nameless or familiar, I may not forget that to which my life is committed.
Keep fresh before me the moments of my high resolve.
For The Inward Journey
by Howard Thurman
mmmmmmm (eyes closed/head slightly nodding/hand to breast)
How beautiful. So quiet, peaceful, unobtrusive voice. I love that you posted it.
a….beautiful. Another brother’s thoughts about our resolve to remember the truth. Thank you.
A flower for the gift of Whitney Houston’s angelic voice.
“I will always Love You”
Probably the worlds favorite song because our right mind knows the Truth when it hears it.
You have not lost your innocence. It is for this you yearn. This is your heart’s desire. This is the voice you hear, and this the call which cannot be denied. (12:1-4)
I was sorry to hear of her passing. I didn’t realize she had been unhappy for a while. I don’t think any of us needs any more reminders that success in this world is not a passport to happiness. May we all find the deep peace that exists waiting silently and patiently for us all, just the other side of that tiny veil of hesitation, fear and maybe just a little stubbornness.
Jesus is very kind (to me too !).
And God Is.
the Light in which I see.
Amen.
“I am surrounded by your Love, forever still, forever gentle,forever safe.” – Workbook lesson 272
The garden, quiet and peaceful, always welcoming…
I lay my weary(?) head to rest.
Nothing to say, my friends.
Good night,
a
Sweet dreams of the real world a.
Thanks, dear Pam !
I couldn’t visit the garden yesterday, but it’s nice to be here now and read your note.
Salvation comes from us….
Hanging out here in the garden allowing myself a breather from the hubb-bubb of seeming everyday “life”. Remembering that “I am surrounded by your Love, forever still, forever gentle, forever safe.” -wb 272
“Only you can deprive yourself of anything. Don’t oppose this realization for it is truly the beginning of the dawn of light.” T.11,IV,4:1-2
I have been playing in an online multiplayer game called MineCraft for a few months now and have found myself in a position of “authority” so now it is my “job” to mitigate disputes and such and boy howdy is it a great class room some days LOL. Oh the drama that ensues from the ego thought system is amazing at times, over a bunch of pixelated images wavering on a computer screen is astounding at times; both mine and the other players.
So when in so called “real life” the faucet spit out algae green water at me this morning and I’m calling my mom (she owns the farm yet so is technically my landlord) getting the number for the well service guy she wants to use and then calling and getting his answering machine and then going to my mom’s to get clean water so I can make my morning coffee and such, I try to remember that so called “real life” isn’t anything more than a more “sophisticated pixelated game” that I chose to make-up and play.
I can hit the “escape key” and leave the game whenever I choose.
Hiya Pam –
Nice to be in the cool shade of our beautiful garden. As I was walking here,I thought I’d nip into the Tavern – was a tad restless yesterday when your thoughts on MineCraft came wafting through the window.
But today is a new day (: — and the garden it is. Been walking through here, seemingly meditating and praying with Sean Reagan – it’s nice. And peaceful.
See you around… time to head home for a short nap.
love.
Nice to join a and Pam in this quiet garden for a bit. It has been one crazy week and the little waterfall in the pond is just tinkling away all my aches and pains. A big tiling job this week, on my hands and knees the whole time, up, down, up, down, I’m feeling older this weekend! So a stroll barefoot over the grass here beneath the Acacia tree in full spring blossom is just perfect! Ah, that lovely sweetness wafting from the heavy flower bunches…
Hoping your week was as delicate and sweet as these Acacia blossoms drifting in the breeze above my head …
Love, B.
It HAS been a crazy week!
Hope all of us are doing well!
Hugs to EveryOne!
Hello little Scotsman and other Villagers
I saw “The Artist” today – SPOILER
The male actor refuses to start to talk, and his career goes down. he is stuck – in his crummy room with all his silent movie-reels. And he goes bunkers and throws them around, drawing the film out – in big heaps – and then he sets fire to it all. And while he does try to remove his past completely, he clutches one reel to his bossom – and faints in the fire and smoke.
I think i do that too. Put it behind me, and there I go again, clutching it, telling myself it is so valuable. I insist of holding on to a really scary fear – and when i provoke it again and again. it ALWAY turn out that the one i feared, when approached is only loving. And HOW!
Sigh.
Beautiful and very original film, pumpkins.
O my child, if you knew what God wills for you,
your joy would be complete ! And what He wills has happened,
for it was always true.
When the light comes and
you have said, “God’s Will is mine”,
you will see such beauty in His Name,
for your joy could no more be contained than His.
The bleak little world will vanish into nothingness,
and your heart will be so filled with joy that it will leap into Heaven, and into the Presence of God.
I cannot
tell you what this will be like,
for your heart is not ready.
Yet I can tell you you, and remind you often,
that what God wills for Himself He wills for you,
and what He wills for you is yours.
The way is not hard,
but it
*is*
very different.
Yours is the way of pain,
of which God knows nothing.
That way is hard indeed,
and very lonely.
Fear and grief are your guests,
and they go with you and abide with you on the way.
But the dark journey is not the way of God’s son.
Walk in light…..
(Chapter 11.3 “From Darkness to Light…..)
Beautiful my friend. I wanted to share this before jumping into my day.
He that desires to be happy let him look after light, for it is the cause of happiness, both temporal and eternal. In the house thereof it may be found, and the house is not far off or hard to find, for the light walks in before us and is the guide to his own habitation.
Thomas Vaughan
God bless us every one
lawrence
Myron Jones wrote this yesterday, at her site:
H.S:If you will stop pushing against your life, you will notice what a happy life it is. You are living the life you want to live, and all the while pretending that you have somehow been forced into this place. As if the Son of God could be anyplace He has not chosen. This is the thought from which you must awaken. Your life is exactly the experience you have chosen, and you are perfectly safe within it. You don’t need to wake up from this illusion, but from the belief that you are being held prisoner within this illusion and that you suffer this illusion. The question is not how to be joyful and how to be at peace, but rather how it is that you continually catapult yourself out of peace and joy. Me: Holy Spirit, I feel the answer in my mind and know that it is guilt. I also feel the solution which is You. I am very happy to report that I am not nearly as afraid of letting go of the guilt as I used to be. I no longer believe that the guilt is caused by things I have done wrong. I know that the guilt comes from the mistaken idea that I have changed my nature and am now separate from God, not connected to Him, not in Him. This is something else I don’t completely believe anymore. I open my mind to You and I ask You to please heal the belief that I could be less than what I am, and that God is something He is not. Thank you so much. I feel the joy rising in me again as I remember that I don’t need the world to be the place I hide from God. Please, today show me what you would have it be to me. Myron
If you want to visit her daily teachings, put the htt and so on.if not, mail me.8
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groups.yahoo. com/ group/ acimdailylessons/
re 819 – Nina on Myron quote.
“The question is not how to be joyful and how to be at peace, but rather how it is that you continually catapult yourself out of peace and joy.”
Sticky note time, Thanks (:
Dear all here is my latest post on my blog.
On a blessed track
18 May 2012 1 Comment
by leelotchka44
Got the message “I got to have this hit in the ribs examined.” I decided for the ER. I blessed the day and expected the best.
Walking out the door, a new neighbor was loading her big car with 4 kids and a dog. She offered to drop me off on their way to holidays at the coast -and told me that she was a police-officer, and was happy to be of help if I needed it.
WHAT A SAFETY. And what a symbol:-)
In the E.R, it was quiet and calm. Very non-E.R-ish. After a short wait,I was taken in to a female doctor. I sensed panic coming up as she examined the ribs – it felt like a huge disaster was looming. She thought it might be a fracture, not broken ribs. I felt dizzy and spaced out – but did not get what was going on until after the examination when she typed all the info, and one of her apparatuses started sounding like an alarm. She looked at the little machine, shook her head and typed more – and the thingy piped again and again. So I understood that it was a signal for me, not for her: I was in a state of alarm. Aha! I immediately picked up the ACIM-notebook I had brought and opened it randomly: ” Remember that each time you have surgery/visit the doctor/ your subconscious mind may believe that you are going to die.” The thingy gave one more little peep – was there more? “Tell her.” I told her about my Post-Traumatic-stresssyndrome, that I needed that she explained some things very slow and meticulously, otherwise a part of my mind was in panic. When she started to answer all my questions, it became clear that my fear of a ruptured spleen was not likely justified: the spleen, she explained, was placed safely UNDER the ribs, not below it.
Instantly I felt a rush of freed energy, and I started to yawn. I forgave the “something” in my mind that had SO strongly identified with the vicious attacks when I was small, and had been frozen in an ongoing alarm-memory of being in deadly danger.
No more alarm-signals now – neither from the inner nor the outer. My mind came back from the spaced out realms, I felt clear and tired and calm. The doc saw my transformation. I thanked her for the patience, we hugged and she wished me good luck luck luck 🙂
As I walked to the bus, I was guided to open the notebook again:
“I wanted to get upset about something on the screen, (meaning in my world) and forgiveness is saying “Thank you for showing me this to my mind, thank you for letting me see this part of my mind. I am the dreamer, I am grateful that it is all a projection and falsity. I don’t have to change it, fix it, or strive or anything. That’s what the joy is.” David Hoffmeister.
Love
Nina
Hi Nina~
Thanks for posting your blog here. Hard to believe that it’s only 3 days ago that you posted… time is moving so slowly, the seconds and hours tick by almost painfully !!
I read your blog amidst all the “excitement” of the FaceBook IPO on May 18th. Some excitement, huh ? (: – it feels so empty, the moment the thing is spoken of. Like speaking of something in a cavernous room, and the moment that one stops speaking, the echoes fade away into nothingness.
(Not sure if I’m able to capture what I’m trying to express there, but I’ll let it slide (:
Oops, I just realized this is the Garden I’m in right now – I was hallucinating that it was the Fireside ! Better keep my rambling to a more even keeled expression, more in synch with the quiet tranquility of the garden, rather than the potentially :raucous: bon-homie of the Tavern. (I’ve been told I’m very loud when excited – I have to say I agree (:
I’ve been drawn quite deep into the Review IV now underway (if one were to follow the calendar-based daily lesson).
Several times this year, I’ve felt like lingering on just one lesson for two, three days, and just ignoring my “old” habit of wanting to progress at one a day.
And yesterday, May 20th, when the fourth review started with some beautiful writing pre-review, I find myself lingering on some beautiful phrases…I reproduce them here…
“And yet, your mind holds only what you think with God.
Your self-deceptions cannot take the place of truth.”
“No more than can a child who throws a stick into the ocean change the
coming and the going of the tides, the warming of the water by the sun,
the silver of the moon on it by night.”
love,
a
ps. Tex, not sure if I should say this.. but we/I are in Plano,(Tx) as I write this note ! (: Sounds like you had a great vacation.
Myron Jones woke up about ten days ago. The shift is palpable. I am sharing here her latest daily blog, where she is commenting to ” the manual for Teachers.
TRUE PERCEPTION – KNOWLEDGE
1 The world you see is an illusion of a world. God did not create it, for what He creates must be eternal as Himself. Yet there is nothing in the world you see that will endure forever. Some things will last in time a little while longer than others. But the time will come when all things visible will have an end.
The world I see is not real. That is the answer to all the ego separation stories. That is my salvation and my happiness. In the past every time I felt uncertain or uneasy about myself I looked at the story of Myron to see how I was doing. Did I say an unkind thing to someone? Did I forget someone’s birthday and so hurt her feelings? How about all those thoughts in my mind? Are they evil thoughts, unkind thoughts, fearful or guilty thoughts?
The story always gave me proof that I was guilty and had reason to be afraid. After all, the guilty are inevitably punished so I had every reason to live in dread. My life and my mind “proved” to me that I was in trouble. No wonder I felt uneasy and uncertain. I was always waiting for the hammer to fall.
A Course in Miracles tells me over and over that I am innocent. Yet, when I look at the story I see proof that I am guilty. Who will I believe? Will I believe the author of the story, the ego? Or will I believe the author of A Course in Miracles, Jesus. The Course says when we want to know what we are we ask the only thing in the universe that does not know. We ask our story, we ask the ego.
Well, the story is not real. It is transient, a passing thought in the Mind of the sleeping Son on God. I will awaken and the story will have dissolved; only momentarily remembered and then forgotten. The story is not real and proves nothing. Instead of looking to the story to see how I am doing, let me ask One Who Knows. The Holy Spirit will always judge me innocent.
As I have become more and more willing to accept His judgment, I see the insanity of believing in anything that is not God. God is not guilt, or fear or anger. God is not depression or sadness. He is not cruelty or sickness, suffering or death. God is not pain. I am created as an extension of God, in God, part of God. I cannot be anything God is not. I accept that simple truth and turn my face from the ego judgment. Why would I believe in an illusion? Why would I believe the flimsy proof of an illusory story over the certainty of God?
*
So long since I visited the tender quiet of the Garden. (Thank you, Winnie – inspiration for this Garden creation !)
In the quiet of this space, the words below washed the grime in my mind and my heart…..
——-
Love Ends Illusions
by Sean Reagan
Don’t start with “everything is an illusion.” That’s just going to mess you up. At the deepest levels – and the not-so-deep levels, too – you believe you are real and that the world is real and that every other body in it is real. So start with that. What does it mean to be a student of A Course in Miracles in such a world?
Decide that God is right and you are wrong about yourself . . . He knows what you are . . . Fail not in your function of loving in a loveless place made out of darkness and deceit, for thus are darkness and deceit undone (T-14.IV.4:5,7.10).
Can we see the call in that? That we are being called to loving action? We are not denying the world, we are embracing it. We are comforters in the broadest, most inclusive sense of the term. Things have not changed much in two thousand years. Probably not in five thousand. Love is the answer and we are its means.
But go rather to the lost sheep of the house of Israel. And as ye go, preach, saying, The kingdom of heaven is at hand. Heal the sick, cleanse the lepers, raise the dead, cast out devils: freely ye have received, freely give.
The atonement – the love that ends the separation – is not real until we make it real. It is an action. Listen carefully to the voice inside you and follow its directives. When people are sad, hug them. If they don’t want hugs, then listen to them. If they need space, create that space. If you children love blueberrry muffins, bake blueberry muffins. Visit an elderly neighbor. Walk the dog. Write a letter or email to someone.
Keep it simple and keep it kind. Don’t worry that it’s not real, or that it’s all an illusion. It’s not your job to end the illusion. It’s just not. You worry about being as loving and as gentle and as kind as you can be and the rest will be handled for you.
Don’t dismiss this aspect of the course. Don’t make it trite. Ask yourself if you have ever been truly consistently loving. If you are honest, you will see that you have not been. You have been selfish and greedy. You only give because of what you hope or plan to get – even if it’s just a feeling of righteousness. Don’t fall for that anymore. Go deeper. Find the radical love of which you are capable and practice it with all your heart and soul. Bring everything you have to this one call. There is nothing else to do.
Don’t say, well, I have this job. Or my kids are demanding. Of course! We all have that. It is the nature of the world to be in our face, to obstruct spiritual growth. It is a loveless place. Big deal. Love anyway.
It is so tempting to make the course esoteric and difficult. But it’s really not. It’s simple. Practice the atonement and the atonement will become real. The separation ends when you end it. Don’t worry what that means. Words are not the thing! Study love. Practice love. Offer love. It is the work of a lifetime – maybe a thousand lifetimes. Get good at it.
I just came from Jamie’s site “The Remembered Song” and our beloved Debbie has passed away.
a, I think your timing of posting a piece here called “Love Ends Illusions” was ‘unintentionally’ well timed for this.
Hi Pam, and thanks for posting this. It seems I am remembering this superior Mother indeed… she was one of the many who helped lighten the way on the Monk’s site. My love to Debbie, her family, and every monkling and villager. I cried after reading Jamie’s post and the Helen poem for the day. And also smiled when I associated her with the outrageous cigar smoker sitting in the doorway. I can almost hear her hoot!
… would like to think that’s exactly how she’d want to be remembered …
Joining with all in the remembrance of Debbie, an angel amongst us.
Leni, on Jamie’s site the clouds behind Mother makes it look like she has wings. I bet she gets a kick out of that!
loving Debbie and joining hearts in our remembrances
“May today there be peace within.
May you trust God that you are exactly where you are meant to be.
May you not forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith.
May you use those gifts that you have received, and
pass on the love that has been given to you.
May you be content knowing you are a child of God.
Let this presence settle into your bones, and allow your soul the freedom to sing, dance, praise and love . It is there for each and every one of us.”
— St. Theresa
thank you love
Love wrote: “May you trust God that you are exactly where you are meant to be-”
Dear all,
today I was very fortunate to find the means to turn from outside perception to inward knowing.
This night, I was praying to God and felt so whole, so safe and loved – and suddenly my heart started to hurt very much.I saw how very unsafe a part of me felt when I was aligned with God. In the morning, after tremendous suffering, I lashed out at God and felt an instant release.
THAT made me think! Something is complete opposite in my mind.
In the morning, i followed the strange thought that my safety lies in avoiding Love – and found a memory: as a baby, I found my only safety in relinquishing my will and adjust to the insane abusers will. I discovered how the natural impulse to Love had been thwarted into feeling safety ONLY when I did not oppose insane attacks from outside.
_
When you live for years in such circumstances – as some of us do – you learn to survive by sort of erasing yourself and your will. No wonder, then, that an impulse about staying alive stays with us for the rest of our life, unconsciously – unless we choose to find it and undo it with the help of the Holy Spirit.
When I said yes to just staying with the impulse today, intending it to take me to my core-fear, a peace beyond understanding descended on me. No wonder I have had this strong impulse to “not do something wrong” – it was all connected to this original urge to survive, when making a wrong “move” would have meant to be killed.
It only took 67 years. Not so long time when we think about it. Now I understand what has always plagued me – that I could pray for help to God and forgive, following all the Course-ways to do it – it did not help in the long run, since my root-belief was not found: “I am only safe when I adjust to darkness, and to follow H.S means to oppose darkness and that will kill me.
It is true that our atonement-paths are really different. I am grateful for having been led to this point – and for having met Ido Lanuel recently, who teaches how to turn perception away from blame on the outside to the very root-fears inside, and release it.
I have been given all the help I needed in exact the perfect time.
And of course I see that this is an ego story: God did not create fear and insanity and attack of insanity. I also see that God meets me where I believe I am – and that I needed to see this turn-around of truth to be able to choose again.
Thank God
Nina
Hi everyone, I’m only now arriving in the Village (and on the computer) after a two week absence, and finding that the world has shifted slightly since my last visit. That’s what happens here in the dreamworld, I guess. You get preoccupied by what seems to by the busyness of life (work away from home, family visits etc) and when you open your eyes, ‘reality’ is not quite the same anymore.
Debbi has shed her heavy, uncomfortable clothing (she was unwell for some time), and now speaks to us from her non-physical state. I felt closer to my father after his passing, and still do, and already feel this shall be the case with Debbi. For a year or so during the time of the Monastery, Debbi and I were very close, communicating daily by email, and sometimes several times per day. It was a very playful, soulful communication, commenting about what was going on in that beloved home, and just general banter about the path we share. We came together very much like brother and sister: Mother and white-sock monk on one hand, two spirits joined as one on the other. It was a great time.
Sometimes I would burst out laughing reading one of her mails, and Pat would ask me what was going on, what was so funny. It was always hard to explain because Deb’s humor was so quick and dry and didn’t translate into French at all!! I had fun trying, though, but wasn’t surprised when I saw in Pat’s eyes this look that said, “you guys are weird…”
I missed her very much when the shift to the Village seemed to cause a silence to fall between us, but I felt on a deeper level that it was a richer time for learning and healing. It was a time to go within, to branch into other avenues of communication and exploration of what it meant to be in relationship. I knew she continued to think fondly of us all, as Jamie relayed to me from her. It was just a time during which she needed to shift roles in her life, to find another perhaps calmer place. She taught me by her silence to go further within and pay less attention to the outside world.
Please have a kind thought for Debbi who’s thoughts followed us to the Village and who’s caring and humor brought us all together for the first time in our previous monastery home. She was a light in my life and I know she was for many of you, too.
The following is an on going story of fairly recent events. It is a true story, I am writing this for myself, telling it to my friend. The Village is my friend and I would have them know this story, only because, only because. Also, please remember I can’t punctuate, and spell and I will use words out of context etc. (:
Also I know there are dear friends here in the village who have been through hell. I don’t have to tell you I want no sympathy, I’m just saying is all, just saying. It’s like a said when he was post # 1 I forget where though, It’s all about me, it’s all about me.
Sharon and I drove into the city (Pittsburgh) to pick up our son Corey and his girlfriend Carrie to go out for some pizza. Corey lives in a old apartment building where there are about ten apartments. They all have their own porches that look out on the front of the building. The building is red brick with big white columns ornately decorated and in need of a paint and some scraping. I spent some time painting old homes in the city and always seem to notice things like that.
So anyway, we picked up the kids (Late 20’s) and were off to Squirrel Hill. Squirrel Hill is known for it’s large Jewish population and it’s color and gaiety of life in general. So, we go to this peaceful place, the very place Sharon and I went to on our first movie date followed by an expensive dinner at a nice local restaurant.
I kept thinking of the past that day for some reason, but back to this present, there were four pizza shops to pick from and we all liked each of them. Sharon and I told Corey and Carrie to pick which one to go to. The shop was busy and the refreshing site of a variety of ethnic groups, as well as the very young and very old I found to be a very pleasant and truely a refreshing experience. Sharon and I have spent almost 20 years of our 33 years together in area’s where everyone was white and variety wasn’t the spice of life in manner of dress or thought. When we were seated at our table and and when the pizza was ready Sharon and I walked to the counter to pick it up .
On the way back to our table, Sharon dropped her napkin and it floated right beside a guy who was eating with his buddy after work. I watched this all happen in what seemed like slow motion, and this guy looks at Sharon and say’s “why don’t you slide right in hear beside me”. I would normally come up with some humorous come back to defuse the situation. But, I heard myself say “That’s not going to happen” and then I stopped, turned and stared at this fellow and then his friend.
I could smell the after work brew on their breath, no judgement here just an observation. They appeared to be in their early 30’s and were wearing shirts with their names on them, the kind of shirts mechanics wear. They were stocky rough looking fellows and I knew they could take care of themselves in a fight. It seemed I and the two gents were the only ones aware of the little drama going on. Sharon took it as complement I guess and just kept walking
Walking back to to our table I heard the man who made the remark say to his friend “are you trying to get us into another fight?” Corey wasn’t far behind me and at at 6’4″ tall you do notice him. But he was oblivious to what was going on as well. And as luck or perhaps fate would have it I dodged a bullet and possibly a punch that more than likely could have killed me, but I didn’t know that quite yet.
Back out in the street the sights and smells of my old stomping grounds, the bars and restaurants of all kinds and the almost palpable international flavor of this small section of Pittsburgh made me home sick. I think being an inner city kid and living in the city until entering the Air Force in 1969 at eighteen, that I will always consider Pittsburgh my home. All Pittsburghers feel this way, trust me. I was content, my stomach was full and I was in one piece. It was like it was all a dream, but where would I get an idea like that?
Next: Now you see me now you don’t at Corey’s apartment.
“There is a garden at the foot of this lovely statue with masses and masses of soft white lilies and little paths between to slowly walk and talk with Jesus. There is a fountain nearby and the forever trickling sound of water reminds us to leave the desert of wrong-minded thinking.” (Winnie)
Lawrence! set us straight, please – I think I am not the only one who wonders if you were shot at? did he punch at you, behind your back…please, what really happened? I am confused to put it mildly – and i want to know what happened – or did not happen to you – please –
all i know, is that you are mailing your friend Village so it seems that you are alive (:
phew
help
Yikes! I know I am a poor writer but yikes. All of you are the Village, and all of you are my friends. I am fine. I was trying to set up what happened to Sharon and I, and our present situation, meaning having to move and my hospital experience. There was no fight and I was pleased that it was so. But that same night months ago still held surprises for me. And had there been a fight it might have ended very badly for me that is, but didn’t!
I am fine but a little embarrassed.(:
lawrence
“I dodged a bullet” Nina is this where you got confused? In American English this is a euphemism for avoiding a really bad outcome.
In this case it could of been getting punched by the fellow that made the remark if Lawrence would of said something instead of listening to the voice that said “that’s not going to happen”. Meaning that if Lawrence would of made a joke that would normally defuse a situation like this any other time that it wouldn’t work with this guy. This guy very well could of irrationally used it as an excuse to get in a fist fight with him instead.
Hope that helps.
Thanks for help, both of you. I did not get that Lawrence thought about a similar situation some time ago and compared it. Still not getting that, but the main thing is to hear that nothing happened, but it could have, if he had been in a foul mood in that place.
Blessing for the move. inside/outside mind
much love to you all
Nina
Nina, Pam, and a, thank you so much for your kindness and understanding. I did not take into consideration the international flavor of our village. I will be more careful in the future. I am writing what has and is still happening in our crazy little part of the world and our perception of it. My memory isn’t what it used to be and I want to have a record of this time in our lives. It goes so fast doesn’t it?
Real or unreal time seems to keep marching on. I remember time being explained as one going into a a dark room and turning a light switch, there on the table is X amount of things, objects events time itself whatever. Then you see there is another switch and then another. Each time you turn the switch more is revealed to you. It was always there but was hidden by the darkness.
As it turns out there was a different kind of switch that was accessible but looked different than the others. When that switch is turned all is revealed to you as the light dispels the darkness.
Thank’s again all for putting up with me.
God bless us every One
lawrence
Dear Lawrence, I am so relieved and grateful when you connect with us. When you seem to be absent here for some time, I feel anxious about what is happening. Always loving your writings, even though I don’t always understand where you come from – but there is always your light coming through you see, and I feel home in that light.
warm long hug,
your friend from loong time back
Nina
The following is an on going story of fairly recent events. It is a true story. #2 Post 835 is #1.
After the little non incident in peaceful Squirrel Hill, we took the left over pizza along with ourselves back to our son Corey’s apartment. I haven’t been able to drive for a little over two years now; and I miss driving very much. Corey has a truck so we took our Toyota Matrix. Sharon and I sat in the back seat so we were able to take in the sights. One of the things I have always liked about the Squirrel Hill section of Pittsburgh is how very different most all of the houses are from each other.
The homes are mostly larger older homes from the early and mid 1900’s, with some homes being much older. The large trees Sugar Maple, Black Cherry and even a tree called The Tree of Heaven can be found just about everywhere. I guess I never gave it much thought but Pittsburgh has a whole lot of trees. We grew up in the more affordable/poorer parts of the city and even though the houses weren’t as nice, they all had plenty of trees. I guess I feel the trees sort of welcome me home when I have been away too long.
We were back at Corey’s apartment in no time. I looked at the dozen or so steps leading just to the porch and thought of the three or four flights of stairs I still would have to climb after that. I get out of breath when going up stairs, hillsides etc. This night was no exception I was quite winded when I reached the top. We started up the steps and I took my time but still by the time I got to the top I was out of breath and very tired.
Corey had us sit on his front porch which afforded a great view of the city streets and rooftops and I was able to catch my breath and regulate my breathing. The sound of the city is always different no two moments ever the same and it takes just a split second to tune into its sound and its distinct beat yet it is just as easy to not hear it at all. Paper lanterns hanging from the porch ceiling and column commanded our attention, childhood memories came rushing to the silver screen of my thoughts. Porch sitting is sacred, a right for both the haves and the have not’s. This was so back in the day and still is, but not on such a large scale now.
I remember climbing a water tower back in the early sixties when I was about twelve years old and the feeling I got from seeing the houses looking so small. The view seemed somehow unreal and a part of me knew it was. I was reminded of the story in the bible where the devil took Jesus to the top of a mountain and looking down said: Matt.4: 8-10) “Again, the devil took him to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their splendor. All this I will give you, he said, if you will bow down and worship me.”
We had a Catholic family bible and it kind of freaked me out as a kid. The pictures of the devil were the stuff bad dreams were made of. I distinctly remember Old Scratch being pretty damn scary. Corey wanted us to watch a documentary he had been telling us about so we went in to the living room to check it out.
I sat in a very comfortable easy chair, and at some point in the conversation I seemed to be fading in and out. The surroundings looked surreal and the next thing I remember is Sharon smacking me lightly on the side of my face. I heard her saying “don’t leave me I need you”. Corey was massaging my shoulder muscles with strong fingers, like a manager or trainer might do for a prize fighter (Boxer) before a fight. They told me later that they thought I had died. They said my eyes rolled back in my head, and that they would never forget that sight.
Sharon and the kids have seen my heart stopped and a machine breath for me on two different occasions, a single bypass and years later a triple bypass. Corey’s girl friend Carrie called 911 for an ambulance. As I fought my way back to consciousness I wondered, what kind of show was I going to put on for them now? Our children when they were younger watched as my battle with cancer changed me from a healthy man to a bald skinny man with a cylinder hanging from his chest. This was during a two year battle with a Liposarcoma, a rare form of cancer back in 1988-90 when the kids were just little.
I have been through a lot health wise, but I never had to take an ambulance to the hospital before. One of the saddest memories I have is of watching our youngest daughter Kaitlyn leaving the little town we lived in, in the back of an ambulance. It was night time, Sharon went with Kaitlyn and they were on their way to Children’s Hospital in Pittsburgh where she could get proper care.
Now they would have to watch me drive away, and have to wonder what will become of all this. I truly knew the feeling. In these times of change in my life and those around me, the thought that this is a dream is seen with a clarity I can’t put into words.
God bless us every One
lawrence
♥{{{{{Lawrence}}}}}♥
And that you wrote this to us…THANK YOU for including us all in this …and for sharing your certainty that this is a dream –
So much love to you and your family
blessings
Nina
Thanks for sharing Lawrence. It reminds me of a time with my dad.
My dad had heart problems for years and I remember sitting at the kitchen table eating supper at my mom and dad’s with my first husband when my dad, complaining of not feeling well went grey and my mom calmly got up and gave him a nitro pill sat down and kept eating as did I and my brother.
Al gave us a weird look. My dad continued looking worse. Al continued to give the rest of us the ” What the hell! Why are you all still eating and not doing any thing” look. I turned to him and said ” We been through this so many time we know there isn’t anything to do but give him the pill and wait 5 minutes if he isn’t better then we give him a second pill and call the ambulance. Keep eating though because if we call the ambulance and go to the hospitable it will be about 1 am before we will leave and being starving hungry during that time is the pits.” (our little hospitable didn’t have any place to get food after 7 pm at that time)
He started eating. We had to call the ambulance. We didn’t leave the hospitable until 1:30 am
I mention this as it reminds me of perception.
Al’s perception was we were cold and uncaring about my dad because we kept eating and that we weren’t “doing” anything. His perception changed once it was explained that we really couldn’t “do” anything , aside from the pill, that would help my dad at that moment but it was practical to “do” what needed to be done, keep eating, in order to be totally with it and not distracted by hunger later.
{{Lawrence}} I especially love that you are alive and telling us this story! This past year I watched 3 times when the ambulance carried a loved one to the hospital. And it had never happened even once before. When I had a reaction to an antibiotic, I drove myself as fast as I could to the hospital just cause I didn’t want that ambulance. (3minute drive). Okay,enough about me . . . Now, I’m sitting on the barrel outside Corey’s, soon to be sitting outside the emerg room entrance.
Katrina. Make room. We are all sitting there with you.
Happy Birthday Nina
Happy Birthday, Nina!! Have I told you you are younger than springtime? Well, you still are. Hope you see your daughter and have a lovely dinner like last year. Blessings on you all year.
Hugs and birthday dances, Katrina13
Thank you, michele,katarina! (Younger than springtime is EXACTLY what I need to hear right now – 🙂 I already had an awesome celebration with my daughter yesterday: this is from my blog –
When the familiar pattern of angst and dread visited this night, there was a clear decision that I will not go down that road again – it leads to a never-ending labyrinth of identifying with suffering.
And so this was heard:
” IT’S A ROLE.”
I have this life explored the concept of roles and archetypes deeply – for myself, but also taught it to students. I have found wonderful ways to help them experience the energy of different roles – “husband”, “son/daughter”, “jealousy” etc. – and how it feels to literally step out of the role.
What never occurred to me is that our names are roles.
Leelah is a role
Leelah is a construct
Leelah is a program, filled with life and feelings of “me” –
but it IS a role only
it has never existed
*
So – seeing that, the angst-and-dread happened to no-one, and 90% of it slid right off
*
Roles can be de-roled, as all actors know.
When I was a child in the fifties, there was a cut-out-theater in one of my favorite weekly magazines. I sat in our attic, which was smelling of mold and dust, with heaps of old Readers’ Digest around, and draft through the chimney. I played for hours with staging plays and playing all the roles. The nice little Lisa – naughty Jack – the Queen – the dragon… the bad ones were all taken care of by police.
Later I made hand-puppets and my father built a great little stage where my own plays were performed by me. Full control.Great satisfaction and relief.And applauds.
My main role was me. I was an excellent me – as we all are, in the human theatre called the world.
Yesterday I saw a play: 33 variations by Moisés Kaufman. After having seen this – I discover yet again how everything in my life is so perfectly orchestrated to bring me to awakening.
Wikipdia says: “The play simultaneously examines the creative process behind Beethoven’s Diabelli Variations and the journey of a musicologist, Katherine Brandt, to discover the meaning behind why Beethoven was compelled to write thirty-three distinct variations on a simple theme by a nobody music publisher. The progression of her ALS and her relationship with her daughter are also themes, as is Beethoven’s growing deafness.
The action takes place both in Beethoven’s time and the present, switching back and forth between the two. However, at certain key points, characters from both time periods appear on stage to deliver lines simultaneously, emphasizing the parallels between the exploits of both sets of characters.
The mother has Lou Gehrig’s disease – which was the disease my mother died from. My daughter is a musicologist. As well as a story about Beethoven and his genius and fate, this is also a play about mother and daughter.
My daughter and I am sitting in the only two chairs which have a distance between them – some 40 cm. I comment on it, and my daughter remarks, “I am sure it is possible to move these seats together in some way.” And for me, she speaks about the seeming separation between mothers and daughters. I feel great warmth within me spreading.
There is a fight going on between the mother and the daughter on stage. The mother is dying, as also Beethoven is dying in another time, on another place on the stage. And then, unexpected, he comes over to her sickbed and stands close to her – and she places her head on his shoulder. When she is in coma, Beethoven comes into her limbo and jokes – quite outside of his role as Beethoven. There is no time. There is this beautiful scene where the pianist plays a fugue within the variations, and the actors start to sing in chorus – spanning different time-lines – all roles coming together in adoration of the Self that has nothing to do with personalities.
At the end, all actors stand right in front of me. They are beaming with love and happiness. I am deeply touched.
And all of this led me to me being able to understand the voice in the night, saying:
“It’s a ROLE.”.