Wednesday, November 19, 2014

Secrets From Out of the Closet

I have a Secret Weapon.  It's true.  A person quick to observe who hunts through the jungle of my wardrobe may find clues and begin to piece the puzzle together.  There are clues all around my room - nay - around my home that may direct one's attention to said Secret Weapon.  It is through such means that articles like designer clothes and silver shoes find their way to my ownership.  It isn't by my intelligence that I frivolously own a Marc Jacobs purse costing roughly $3, 000.  It is due to my Secret Weapon that said purse cost me not a penny.  Neither is it by my wisdom that a Tiffany bracelet resides in my jewelry box gathering dust because I so rarely wear it and often forget that it is there.  

The best part is that anyone can look to and cultivate this same Secret Force for their own good.  It isn't that I'm just lucky.  It isn't that seek such things; I don't.  I can easily give all this away and prove perfectly happy living a less glittering, bling filled life.  Perhaps that is one of the reasons said Power has granted me such things.  Although my parents prove quite wealthy and I have had the opportunity to travel and experience the good things of life full price, I find it easier, happier and wiser to visit thrift stores rather than the more upscale variety boutiques.  I learned through years of wise prudence in economy that thrift store clothes are all a person needs to survive respectably.  I continued this practice until I flatter myself that I became something of a proficient.  But still, that isn't what brings Gianni Bini shirts to my personal coat hangers.  

Let us return to said Marc Jacobs purse.  I was at a thrift store, enjoying a shopping excursion for my birthday, supplied by my also frugal mother.  I had been hoping for a Prada purse and, though not wishing for it directly or appealing to God over so absurd a matter I had entertained a wistful thought.  I found not Prada, but reaching into the mountains of purses I found a gold Marc Jacobs that went perfectly with the new outfit I'd selected.  Though I knew this was a brand not to be lightly reckoned with, I could not recall offhand just how pricey it would prove in a boutique or how prestigious it really was.  I felt impressed that the Lord put this in my way and wanted me to have it.  The price tag read $5.50.  Reasonable enough to ask my mother to pay as a birthday present.  Researching later on the internet I found the actual price for said bag and comparing it to Prada found it excessively more expensive than a Prada purse would have been.  My Secret Weapon, or to put it more rightly and appropriately, my Sacred Wisdom, is my God.  He provides for me; He is so intimately interested in the details of my life that He gives me accessories far superior to what my poor finite mind had imagined.  When I thought the idea was simply too shallow and trifling, it was important to Him.  My friends, we sometimes seek for the things of this world and place Him on the back burner.  Logically, shouldn't we turn it around?  Prayer and striving to live righteously proves far more appropriate to increase our happiness than designer clothes.  When we seek Him first we find much more than we had expected, hoped, or even understood.  He is Master not only over the big things but the details.  And truly, we are never likely find a better shopping partner!

Saturday, November 15, 2014


The first thing we must understand about being a goddess is that she can take liberties when she deems it advisable.  Thus I am bound to inform my gentle reader that one reason I am writing this post is that my friend and critic Mark Byrnes can see the dress I mentioned in an earlier post.  Hello, Mark!  (waves)

That being said, what else does a goddess do?  How does one behave?  And what makes her a goddess in the first place?  These were the questions buzzing through my thoughts prior to Halloween, as I was to don the clothes and act the part. 

Goddess Lesson One:
We become a goddess when someone else of higher rank tells us we are and treats us as though we are.  As all of us are children of God, we already find that that preliminary requirement accomplished.  That is who you are.  That is who I am.  When I approached a friend by the name of Josue Moreno at a Halloween party he asked with a smile what I was supposed to be.  I answered sassy style, "Goddess.  I mean, I already was of course.  I'm just dressing the part tonight."  His nodding and laughter informed me that I had answered his question to the highest satisfaction.

Goddess Lesson Two:
What does a goddess do?  It strikes me that a goddess lives as such partly because of how she treats others.  A goddess is firstly strong enough to give love, tenderness, and rank away because she has so much of it that she has plenty to spare.  At another party I met with a friend who was not in costume at all, but who I felt to encourage to join me in a costume competition. She looked down at her attire and declined but I countered with the idea that a true goddess can wear anything she likes and doesn't have to impress anyone.  Indeed, she was better dressed for the part than I.  A woman who tries to limit the glory of others is the exact opposite of what a goddess ought to and must be.  And certainly, a goddess does not have to wear fancy clothing in order to be the heavenly being she is. I should add that when first appealed to enter the competition my initial answer was, "I'm a goddess and goddesses don't have to compete.  We have already won." 

Goddess Lesson Three:
I dislike repeating this anecdote but I think it important to the discussion.  I had considered the concept quite a bit beforehand but didn't think I would have to employ it while in costume.  Goddesses are heavenly in nature partly because they have such self control and inner power that they do not need to throw temper tantrums of any kind.  I was in the midst of said competition when I found myself required to step forward and state my name.  I did so meekly and calmly but the noise  around me proved sufficiently great that the judges could not hear.  The chief of them accused me of not speaking to which I told him I had but that he had been talking louder at the time.  He flippantly joked at the fact that I should have a booming voice enough to make people hear.  I responded in actual indignation, for he had been disrespecting the goddess ideal all this while by stating "A goddess does not speak loudly.  She speaks quietly.  She speaks in a still, small voice and YOU are expected to LISTEN!"  He looked at me with obvious humbled sincerity and the room went momentarily silent.  I do not like relating this experience, for a true goddess prefers to raise people up rather than silence them by force.

So my friends, remember who you are and rejoice in your natural identity as a goddess.  Cultivate your own divine gifts and lift others to enjoy the same enlightened glory that God gives you!

Thursday, November 13, 2014

The Parable of the Gucci Bag

Some months ago a woman felt quite depressed regarding various aspects of her life.  Her name was Michelle but that is hardly a necessary point to relate.  Suffice it to say, she felt quite neglected and hurt, struggling to keep her spirits up enough to maintain the Christlike peace she always strove to give to others.  It came to a point one day when another woman who in very important aspects seemed to tower over her and inadvertently crush her underfoot walked into view carrying a new Coach bag.  Michelle had never cared in any measure for purses at all and certainly didn't covet accessories.  Nevertheless, she was feeling so low and beaten at the time that the importance of the Coach logo seemed magnified in her eyes and try as she might, quite unlike her typical self, she felt all the crushing humiliation of this woman who already seemed so tremendously and painfully over her having a better name brand purse than she had.  

I don't recall the details but it seemed that weeks passed with this agonizing, irrational, humiliating teeth grinding sadness that Michelle told me she felt whilst in the shadow of the mighty Coach purse.  Prayer did nothing and her wonderment at so strange and alien feelings of frustration intensified until she really felt herself a shallow and horrible person for letting a little thing like that get to her.  She continued her already kind behavior to the owner of the great bag and attempted to crush this feeling of being so much less as a person than the other woman in question.

Then finally a new day dawned.  She had been required to visit a thrift store with her mother and sister and felt a calming impression that today God would give her not a $300 Coach bag but an infinitely cooler and classier Gucci without it noticeably taxing her pocketbook.  Impossible, you say?  God is a God of miracles, isn't He?  But to return to the parable, she felt much impressed and almost coerced to turn to toward a rack of purses, like walking in a dream headed straight forward, and reaching behind the first row of purses found immediately said Gucci bag.  The price tag read $25.  She didn't wish to start a competition and though she has since worn said Gucci in the other woman's presence called no attention to either her own purse or that of the Coach variety. 

Healthy is Beautiful

"Wooooooow!" My children stared in spellbound admiration as I lifted part of my shirt to expose my fairly well toned abs.  I was only doing it for comfort sake and because I felt a little hot in this Arizona climate, but it seemed to have an extra effect on my kids.  Seven year old Josh lifted his shirt to compare and looked quite glum at the prospect of his own beautiful, healthy, baby fat adorned belly.  Upon his appealing to me I told him that his abs were perfect and if at seven years old his abs looked like mine I would consider myself a terrible, abusive mother. 

This news astonished him.

I continued to explain the difference between his growing body and my adult one, citing the need for some baby fat in order to grow properly.  The discussion continued into an explanation of and warning against eating disorders.  I told them that almost all American women undergo some kind of eating disorder, trying to fit the unrealistic Barbie image, and that some of them even push the behavior to the point of entering the hospital or the grave.  He grew somber and upset at that and suggested we banish Barbie dolls and unrealistic images in the media.  I countered that while we probably can't handle something that massive, there was one very important thing that he could do.  As my son is handsome, athletic, intelligent, and charismatic it is quite certain that when he gets older the ladies will fall all over him even more than they have hitherto done.  He can set the standard for himself, making it known that he honors a woman for having a healthy, natural body and by shunning those ideas of stereotypical Mattel beauty, and that any woman who expects to gain his attention had better understand that.  A desirable man with that kind of perspective does more good than he knows and can truly change lives for the better, or even rescue them completely.

I told my children that I myself had been caught up in the whole negative body image thing for a while until heaven gave me a wake up call, and let them know that if they continued with the physical exercise routine they presently have and follow the nutritional guidelines they already do, that they will be healthy and exactly what God intended them to be.  Nothing more would prove necessary.  My daughter, in her passionate affection toward her mommy declared that when she grew up she wanted to look just like me.

"No," I said.  "There is someone else that I insist you look like and I require you look like."  Here I gave her that 'stern mother' look - you know the one.

"Like myself!"  She boisterously exclaimed with a happy, beautiful smile.

"You got it."  I replied and smiled right back.

Friday, November 7, 2014

The Other Woman

I have a confession my friends.  Though I cling to moral decency with an undying passion, I have unwittingly found myself with the gritty, tarnished slur upon me as "the other woman."  Allow me to explain before you jump to any conclusions.  We have all dated in our youths and met with many people with whom we felt an interest or affinity.  Unfortunately, two of the men I knew in my youth apparently fell head over heels to the point of aching to marry me.  Both of them lost in love and in the recklessness of hopeless despair did something rather rash that I fear happens altogether too often in this world.  They ran out and slept with the next woman they met, accidentally impregnated them and suffered through shotgun weddings.  They are both still married, though one had a long term mistress as well as a wife.  He has told many people including me that he still harbors feelings for me and that he always will be at my beck and call, six children later.  His life has spiraled downward into drug use and general misery.  The second man successfully puts on the face of a devoted husband and father, and I hope and pray he is in actuality and heart.  But the last time I saw him he repeatedly tried to get his hands on me and at one point succeeded enough to cause me quite justified indignation.  I scorned his advances and he continually watched me pleading for some affection so desperately that his wife with whom I was friendly and who knew nothing of his previous affection, came to look at me as a dangerous temptation and threat to her marriage. 

My friends, I disclose this as a warning to both men and women.  I have seen the misery such situations bring and allow me to plead that it not happen to you.  Brethren, I realize you have strong feelings.  I know that your hearts can be very tender.  But may I suggest you vent your frustration in going to the gym and repeatedly knocking around punching bags to your heart's content until you feel able to handle another relationship with an honest soul?  And I have news for you.  If I am not very much mistaken, both these men thought that their girlfriends were on birth control.  The women were desperate for the men to marry them so they purposefully and secretly stopped taking it in order to force the guys into marriage.  Brethren, be wary.  If you aren't in love and wanting to marry her, do yourself a favor and leave the woman alone.  Trust me on this one.  And ladies, I understand the need to be loved and the desire to be married.  But do you want a man you have to chase down?  Do you want one who you know only married you because he had no choice?  Or wouldn't you rather be your own beautiful self and have a plethora of wonderful men do the chasing after you?    I will tell you plainly that both these ladies have had a horrible time with their husbands and I have felt their despair due to their difficult marriages.

Abstinence before marriage may seem a strange thing in this world, however it is not only the right but the smart course of action.  The Lord created our minds and our bodies, understands our passions and His commandments are for our good on a deeper level than we can presently understand with finite minds.  As a God fearing, Christ loving individual I cannot help but feel extraordinary pity for those involved and I pray for their happiness.  As I pray that their marriages will work out, however, I do not feel impressed with a sense of peace and surety on that account; perhaps the Lord is just telling me to never mind it and get on with my life.  But my friends, I would plead with you to have a care and cherish your body as a temple unto God.  You are worth more than to throw your lives into unalterable turmoil due to the pain and frustration of the moment.  My prayers are ever with you and I know God can help you make the right choices for your life and ultimate happiness if you will turn in prayer unto Him.

Wednesday, November 5, 2014

How Do I Know Jesus Loves Me?

The local leaders of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints asked us to reflect on this question, come up with one or two answers and share it with our families.  My son decided that we would use Family Night to introduce the topic and through the week try to come up with thirty ways we know God loves us.  I got a little carried away, my kids caught the fire and my son now has over fifty after only a day and a half.  Each of these things are not mere words but moments in which I can literally feel the love of God very personally for me.  My memory and the ability to do many things were taken away due to post traumatic stress and I feel the power and joy of having such abilities and mental capabilities back.  Try writing a list of your own!

1. The taste of blueberries
2.  Butterflies in a parking lot
3. Nil S'en La (Celtic Woman song)
4.  Ability to progress
5.  Awesome clothes suddenly go on sale!
6. Random blissful feelings
7.  Confidence
8. Dance
9. Meditation
10. Spiritual energy
11.  Prayer/answers to prayers
12. Memory
13. The ability to choose to be grateful
14.  Warmth
15.  Sunshine
16. Ability to read
17. Trials
18. An adventurous life!
19.  Impressions
20. Ability to enjoy music
21.  Ability to enjoy literature
22.  Seizures
23.  Ability to have faith
24. Julia and Josh's good health
25.  Clear skin
26.  Ability to take deep breaths
27.  Scriptures
28.  Ability to think
29.  Ability to have emotions
30. Peace
31. The feeling of air against my skin
32.  Protecting me from a semi
33. Flowers
34.  Having a camera
35.  Ability to express myself with photography
36.  Ability to watch good movies
37.  Temples
38.  Physical protection of my kids
39.  Cleaning supplies
40.  Ability to reach out to others
41.  Ability to arise and walk
42.  Knowledge that God is at the helm
43.  Sense of touch
44. Humor
45.  Ability to smile
46.  Rain and wind
47.  Sunsets
48.  Ability to appreciate beauty
49.  Hope
50.  Clarity of thought
51.  Ability to eat
52.  Strong body (very humbled that God has allowed me such a gift)
53.  Weather changes
54.  Assurance
55. Lack of physical pain
56.  Food
57.  Having a choice of food
58.  Workings of internal organs
59.  Ability to learn
60.  Ability to experience pleasure
61.  Miracles
62. The feeling of sand on my feet
63.  Guidance
64.  Moments without terrible pain
65.  Ability to pump gas
66.  Knowledge that there is a plan for my life
67.  Mercy
68.  Glimpses of heaven
69.  Karate
70. Yoga
71. The feel of my skin
72. Hydration
73. Beauty on the earth
74. Beauty in the sky
75.  Ability to love myself
76.  Ability to reflect
77.  Ability to ponder
78.  Personal relationship with God the Father
79.  Personal relationship with Jesus Christ
80.  Having fingernails
81.  Feeling whole
82.  Ability to enjoy art in many forms
83.  the beauty of femininity
84.  The power of femininity
85.  Exquisite joy of masculinity
86.  Ability to take care of my kids
87.  The goodness in my kids
88.  When God uses me as an instrument for good
89. Blue Banana
90.  Ability to work
91.  Healthy hair
92.  The spirit in the library
93. The feel of water
94. Trials of faith
95. The ability to have compassion
96. The ability to love
97. The feeling of having a body
98. The Spirit filling me up
99.  Pain
100. The ability to choose to be courageous
101.  The Savior's protection from Satan
102. The Atonement
103. When my kids miraculously go from cranky to joyful
104. My children's existence
105. My kids' admiration and emulation of me
106. The need for patience

Real Sex

As opposed to the type we might consider fake, I suppose.  I have been considering this blog post for well over a month and I find that against my previous ideas today is the day I will actually transfer the thoughts in my mind to the screen before me.  As a precursor, be it known that I allow others to disagree with me and do not intend to anger anyone; I simply mean to illustrate a pertinent fact.

Anyone who knows me knows that I have a passionate, undying horror of any kind of moral indecency.  It seems rational that we might describe sex, real sex, as the most endearing, beautiful, meaningful type of expression regarding true and innocent romantic love - call me a hopeless romantic.  As we bear this in mind it is logical and rational to think that an emotion strong enough to inspire real, true, pure sexual intercourse happens between two people and is not something we casually discover and exploit in a bar and subsequent hotel room on a Saturday night.

Let me return to the point of it being two people, as I fear we often fail to grasp that concept in this society.  In real, passionate, soul mate induced sex there exists two halves of the same spiritual, emotional, mental and physical self.  Two. No more.  I find it strange that in this most intimate of acts we sometimes think to invite pornography and X rated movies.  Goodness sake, how many people are you mentally cramming into a bedroom at the same time?  I have heard people say, "Well that is how everyone is doing it nowadays."  I'm sorry, but that seems quite strange to me.  It is your life, your soul, your energy, your passion and your relationship.  Who cares what anyone else is doing?  I have heard that people turn to pornography in order to get ideas and the like.  Truly, I cannot help but think that since we are eternal beings filled with divine fire we can more than safely turn inward toward ourselves and in communing with our own souls and that of our devoted mate find more than sufficient love, joy, excitement and meaning than we will ever find in the cold, wrinkled pages of a Playboy magazine.  It strikes me that when we have our minds filled with such pornographic material we are no longer making love to our significant other.  We are making love to an image and to some degree wishing our counterpart were someone else that we have seen on the screen or page.  When we have our minds filled with pornography we are using our soul mate's body but thinking of nothing in terms of his or her inner self.  We hardly keep this most gorgeous, soul exciting act between two people when we have others in mind at the time or have been enjoying looking at someone else's body and sexual behavior immediately beforehand. 

Call me a romantic.  Call me a foolish, unreasonable believer in soul mates.  I'm okay with that.  The fact is that I know that soul mates exist.  It is a religious and eternal certainty.  I know that a man and woman perfectly united in marriage can create such spiritual power as to crumble this world into oblivion and cause the elements to melt with fervent heat.  I know it is possible for and will happen to every person in this world who puts God first in their lives and forbearance before untamed, immature lust.  And that is what I want for you, each one of you.  Engaging in "fake" sex and pornography, masturbation and the like weakens the soul and makes the mind and heart less apt and able to enjoy and maintain the real, soul rending passionate joy that comes with the type of sexual intercourse that God appointed and set forth to raise His children up to the most glorious heights of heaven itself. 

Tuesday, November 4, 2014

How to Keep a Woman Happy

I recently viewed a facebook post that included a picture of a university classroom with various complicated equations covering the front chalkboard from end to end.  The caption was "How to Keep a Woman Happy."  Amusing though it may seem I submit there is one way to do so, as the musical Camelot describes.  It is to simply, merely, love her and show it.  Get to know her and simply love her for who she is and not who you would try to make her in order to fit your own criteria and mold.  That should be sufficient, brethren.

Unfortunately sometimes it's not and my dear ladies, this is your turn to listen up.  It should not be harder than that to keep a woman who is already in love with a man happy.  If pure, devoted love proves insufficient, I fear I must place much of the blame on the woman.  We are gifted with divine feminine traits which include gentleness, kindness, sweetness of temper and a nurturing spirit.  We are mothers, which is the greatest of all human callings of love and I hope we learn to lean on and appreciate these attributes.  Is it womanly or right to fly into hysterics, fall into accusations, demands and anger because things are not exactly as we might wish?  Would we not be happier in letting the little things go and focusing on the blessings?  Shouldn't we as adults be above that?  And above all, isn't it our responsibility to seek our own happiness?  We cannot prove continually unhappy people and blame someone else for our emotions, can we?

Of course, I must add that men are not perfect souls either and I have known a great deal of people, both men and women, who continually and cruelly antagonize their significant other.  While playful banter is fine, we must remember that our counterpart has legitimate feelings.  Most people who know me know that I passionately dislike contention and will staunchly, stubbornly walk away from a fight rather than engage in angry, heated fights.  In the last ten years I have fully exploded in rebuke at only four people.  These people had spent years in repeatedly, knowingly and hurtfully antagonizing either me or someone else and I had for years attempted to teach them to discontinue their abusive behavior through kindness, love, encouragement, and every other venue available.  While I do not like the situations and wish their could be another way I maintain that there was nothing else I could do at the time.  I do not attempt to blame others for my actions and in each case it was a momentary explosion of indignation followed by kindness, sometimes verbal apology, and attempts at rebuilding the relationship.  Sometimes we think we are God's gift and have the right to repeatedly and knowingly treat people flippantly or in a manner lacking human dignity.  So be it but that person has every right to walk away and find happiness elsewhere, leaving you to be God's gift to someone else.  And in handling a woman, repeated cruel treatment immediately offends the one rule we have to follow. 

Monday, November 3, 2014

Adolph Hitler and Bethlehem's Star

There exists in the vast reaches of the enormity of space a certain purple hued galaxy, named Arextra by its inhabitants, that takes its turn in the grand operatic stage of the unknown universe.  Its proportions are vast and far overreach the typical measured distances of such spheres, stars, planets and orbits that generally comprise such an astronomical network.  We watch it from a distance as it hovers silently in its designated place.  But as our eyes and minds become accustomed to the deep, passionate intricacies thereof we seem to hear a slight hum emanating from within the complex web. 

Faster than light our minds perceive its rotations, circumferences, and the nature of each working orb within.  And deep within its inner workings, a solar system presents itself to view which center around a small and blue hot star.  The star, Carinta by name, commands hundreds of tiny planets among which we find Darita, the smallest of all, leisurely coursing through the furthest possible path from its gravitational superior.  It seems to say to the sun that gives it life “We are not concerned about you.  We can do without your will, your way, your pull and your laws.  We walk after our own manner.” And here it spins contentedly, aristocratically certain that its affairs prove more important than all those massive forces of nature that keep it from drifting into a cold and lifeless doom.

Darita boasts three moons.  She considers this wealth her own treasure trove of glory; they are the jewels in her crown of arrogance.  The inhabitants of this planet have termed them, from greatest to least, Orinto, Pavlati, and Jershack.  Orinto and Pavlati undoubtedly know their places, for they circle the planet generally arm in arm, walking the same road together like two sovereigns foremost in a glittering parade of stars.  Jershack, it is feared, proves rather the fairy step child of the lunar family and runs against the current, small, quick and showing himself when least expected.    

 Beneath this dance of sun and its bluish cast on the great and lesser moons we find indeed Darita herself.  Dainty and self absorbed, this speck of life and water has proven over the years of her creation and existence rather a creature of internal struggle. Perhaps it is her hidden rivalry; she is indeed the smallest of her interplanetary siblings.  Perhaps it is due to her distance from the sun.  Certainly her pride might be injured by not having received an invitation for a closer relationship, though knowing her character she might have thrown such an invitation away, if indeed the sun ever noticed her sufficiently to send one, in hopes of a personal visit from the lord of her orbit.  Whatever the case it is certain she has had a troubled inward existence, for her terrain is so far blemished by volcanic explosions and internal collapse that instead of round she appears at first glance rather sharp with jagged edges, almost like a well worn Rubik’s cube floating haughtily in space.

But here we leave our astronomical study to itself; let the social workings among them transpire as they may in our absences.  We descend lightly through Darita’s colorful atmosphere toward its surface of water and rock.  Let us, as we glide through the humid air, glance over her cities as we pass overhead.  Her technology is vast and powerful.  They have even at this point discovered that not all light must come from their own blue sun and moons.  Indeed, they have found that light can come of their own making, through their own invention and controlled by their hands.  Certainly they know a great deal.  Men and women who look remarkably like us stroll proudly through the paved and decorated streets.  Indeed, one might almost think to view them that they be our brethren and sisters rather than the obscure and strange aliens we assuredly know they are.  They have machines for nearly everything – cloth making, food preparation, instruments to facilitate writing, communication and the like.  Indeed, we cannot argue that this society is one of those intelligent and breathtaking kinds that rises above the bare rudimentary aims of survival.   

Our descent brings us not to the cities but to a riverside.  The water that courses through its rivulets appears astonishingly clear and blue.  We must remember of course that everything in this world meets the eye with a slight hint of blue.  But that aside, the water is refreshing enough.  Let us tarry a moment on the river’s edge and drink in its sweet delight while we recover from that long and rather exhausting flight.  

A young lady strolls through the open air and into the fadenta forest on our left.  Climbing into the giant blossom of the gentle and ancient fadenta plant she pulls something out of the long skirt of her dress.  It is not a miracle of newfound Daritan technology but rather something that if we were to see in our own planet we might term a notebook save that the cover is made from the bark of some orange tree or other and is secured together with tiny white and orange vines braided into a secure binding.  She pulls out her utensil for writing – a long pink shell of some long deceased animal that carries a kind of inky residue – and is soon deep in literary thought.  

Shall we peek over her shoulder?  Impolite it may be, but necessity drives us to it.  Perhaps we might term her impolite herself for the custom of this place is to voice all of one’s thoughts aloud that everyone might see and hear and judge.  So engrossed in her own thoughts as she is, it would prove only too easy to glance at the writing.  Very well then, let us read the text she has before her.

The first day of the 649th year of the star.

Ah!  She writes in the old method of counting.  Indeed, we have encountered quite the country bumpkin.  You see, there exists in this quaint little planet some notion of a year of the star.  The deranged and uneducated believe that once, long ago, 649 years by their time and about 1949 by ours that a star was seen in the midst of the sky.  The legend tells that this star was the sign of some redemption that was to save people from their vices.  Believers in this tale claim that 11 years after this year of the star by their time and 33 years by ours, the sky blackened, the planet went mad and most of the distortion of its face is due to the crashing storms, earthquakes and the like.  Goodness, what a story!  But people will believe as they wish.   What else has this lovely young woman to say?

I tried to talk to Mavenka again.  No use.  I am coming to the conclusion that no one will hear me.  

Well, if she shouted out her emotions and demanded attention like any well bred Daritan female, this might not prove so difficult.  But back to the text.

It has been nearly a year since the impressions stopped.  It was something I couldn’t prove to Mavenka or to Naribok either.  They didn’t understand.  They didn’t understand because they couldn’t see it.  But it was real.  I know it. I can’t prove it or measure it, but I know it.

Here she runs her slender fingers through the rich auburn hair and leans her head thoughtfully on her palm.  The velvety petals of the fadenta bloom provide rather a comfortable seat and she leans back with a sigh.  Gazing pensively at the cream colored petals above her she moves her full and blushing lips softly as though attempting to place into words what to write next.

I am learning to accept the fact that I can do nothing but pray.  I pray God will remember those in so much anguish.  And God give me peace since I can do nothing else about the situation.  The memories of these terrible impressions wrench my heart whenever I think of them.  I know I have written a thousand times over but I cannot help but relive the tenor of these ideas.  Night after sacred night, when the Jershack wandered homelessly through the sky I knew and could almost hear the anguish and weeping as though millions of people were being daily tortured.  Men, women, and innocent newborn babes wept under a power so rife with evil and hatred that none could immediately deliver.  Oh God, I know this must be true.  It was too real.  I felt that blood had been shed, innocent blood under a banner that has haunted my dreams and troubled my waking thoughts.  It is a banner of red with a white circle in its center.  And in that white circle is the image of some kind of black four legged abomination.  And there was a man.  A man of vile bloodlust who embodied the power of evil itself and in whose veins coursed hatred almost instead of humanity sustaining life.  

Behold how she wipes away the tears.   What impressions are these?  I think almost to believe the sincerity of this woman.  Her hazel eyes are moist and reddened with soul rending sorrow.  But here on Darita there has been no such slaughter of millions of innocent victims.  It must be mere folly or vain imaginings of the brain.  

And who comes here, scorn in his eyes and a sneer on his face?  It is a handsome face, to be sure.  This must be a gem of the greater Darita social order.  Tall, broad shouldered and carrying a striking look of intelligence of the highest academic level.  But kindness I see not in his manner.  

“Crying about nothing again, are we?”  he scoffs.

She looks at him silently.  

“Look, all of this is pointless.  No one has died.  Look around you.  What possible proof could you have?  What logic and reason could you have for sitting here crying like a mindless lunatic?  Come now.”  He nearly spits out the two final words.

Tear streaked and pale but noble as an angel, our lady quietly replies “I just know.  It is something from deep within and I just know.   And I cannot deny it.  I don’t know where.  Somewhere far away, further than this world perhaps.  I don’t expect you to believe me.  But just leave me alone.”

Leaning against the edge of the bloom her antagonist continues, “So now you’re saying that there might be life somewhere outside Darita.  Okay, well I am not saying there isn’t.  Scientists aren’t saying that there isn’t.  But you aren’t a scientist.  You are a dreamer just like the rest of your ‘year of the star’ dreaming set.  Dream all you want to, Feniru, but do us all a favor and keep your mouth shut.   It’s embarrassing to an intelligent family to have people know that there is a lunatic who has wild dreams among us.  For your own sake, so people don’t think you’re crazy, just don’t talk.”  And off he strides.

Perhaps the time has come for us to leave as well.  This conversation and this woman have become eerie.  Back we sail to our own planetary home, leaving behind the discomfort of the Mavenkas of the world of Darita and giving one last salute to the mighty blue Carinta.  Solemnly we pass out of far reaches and back into the known universe, sailing toward our own yellow sun and our water and rock planet.  Let us glide into New York, where aurora has only just begun to shed its majestic light over the sleepy inhabitants.  Only the paperboys are up at this hour.  Let us see what we have missed in our travels and grant them a coin in return.  

The front page of this May 1949 issue proclaims that the Soviet Union has finally lifted the Blockade of Berlin.  Come and let us stroll through Central Park.  Can it be?  Perhaps this Daritan lunatic and the legendary year of the star are the answers we need in this maddening world.  Perhaps there is more than what meets the eye.  Perhaps the innocent prayers of this all seeing woman and so many just like her who believe in what we cannot prove are what actually sustain us.  But here is the world of business open again and with it the trends, fashions, and profits.  It is time to return to real life and the facts that really matter.

Thursday, October 30, 2014

Darkened Raven

*Thought I would post this just for fun.  I wrote it some time ago in conjunction to studying Edgar Allan Poe's The Raven.  Those who know my cousin Eddie will not be surprised to hear that he was my inspiration and model for this brief stanza.  We have a very interesting, amusing relationship that leaves the rest of the family scratching their heads.  As our mutual cousin Rosalina once told us, "When I was little I used to listen to your conversations and I couldn't understand what you two were talking about.  Now that I've grown up...I still can't figure out what you guys are talking about."  Happy Halloween, everyone!

Art and passion prove the fire, lead the conflagration higher
Ever swelling, never tire that provides your wisdom bright.
Hard pressed moon’s glow shows the pathway, bathes your feet in beams of dark grey
Ever wander but do not stray, in this blanket of the night.
In this all consuming darkness and the grayish shades of night.
Look thou upward into light. 

Tuesday, October 28, 2014

Dad's Guitar

When father picks up his guitar in the ev'n
The world of the deep magic hears
And bends down to listen to soft tenor notes
Whilst gushing out laughter and tears.

His hands move like instruments just of themselves
And woo each sweet measure and beat
And children come round and sing loud with the sound
Of the tapping of pattering feet.

Bright beams seem to open like truth to your eyes,
And dreams don't seem ever so far -
They dance with the music along in your hands
When daddy picks up his guitar.

Sunday, October 26, 2014

Italian Worship

I felt to sit and write poetry about the Lord Jesus Christ.  You have already seen a typical English style piece in my previous post but I often strive to employ terza rima, a type of poetry invented by Dante Alighieri for his Divine Comedy and which is generally known as the most difficult type of poetry to write in the English language.  The rhyme scheme is in triples, which Dante used to denote the power of the Trinity.  I have used this form before in much longer works where you can see the form more clearly. True to its conception I always write in it with spiritual context, and it is a delight to work through.  This little snippet seemed sufficient for the moment.

From deep within my weak and trembling soul
I raise my humble eyes up to my God.
In Him am I made strong and ever whole
Sweet kneeling on His pure and sacred sod
For in His care the earth transforms its face,
Oppressors cringe and break beneath the rod,
The scepter that He wields in awful grace
Which raises slaves to heights ethereal.

Sweet Jesus

I hear in words so many things about Him
In argued tones and analyzing days
They cut and splice to fit into their notions
Then lift their songs in awkward, reaching praise.

Quite true it is we know not much about Him
From published texts, philosophies of men.
I cannot help to bend the knee in prayer
Beseeching God to teach to me again

His grace and truth.  My tender adoration
Of Whom I've come to know through stumbling tread
By giving all my life to seek and follow
Being rescued from my sin and from the dead.

Whatever else the world may say about Him
I know His face, His comfort and His rest.
His all consuming love becomes my standard
And in His sweet embrace I'm ever blessed.

Wednesday, October 22, 2014

When the World Comes Crashing Down

I must confess, gentle reader, that I have of late come across some rather pointed and poignant trials, which may account for the fact of my being something of a social recluse online and elsewhere.  It has seemed that I have been up against brick walls at every turn and I have felt confused and under the stern lash of painful experience.  Such a pedagogue will teach effectively surely but the lesson proves a difficult one whilst the student remains within the schoolhouse walls.  

Simultaneously, I have been reading the book of Genesis and Exodus to my children and as often happens I find myself in the scriptures before me.  When the children of Israel found themselves in slavery and any action they took would prove insufficient they learned to listen to their God who could rescue them.  Some of the actions seemed undoubtedly confusing but they were working hand in hand with the One who could part the Red Sea.  Sometimes bad things happen and we do not understand why.  Jacob, bless his heart, wanted only one woman for his own but was tricked into marrying his beloved's older sister.  I can't imagine how difficult and painful this must have been for him and his family and how many times he must have pleaded for answers to heaven.  But Leah gave us half of the tribes of Israel - could Rachel have handled bearing the 12 sons that the Lord knew needed to come from Jacob's loins?  Poor woman could barely handle two and sealed the second one's birth with her death!  The pain and sorrow of this family changed and blessed the world forever.  Could they have foreseen such an immense result from their pain, sorrow and betimes their confus├ęd bickering?  Did they really understand that after the trial of such great magnitude nearly the entire world would rise up and call them blessed, seeking for their promises, reading of their trials and learning from their experiences?  

And sometimes in the midst of trial, when we know not where to go or what to do, we need to follow the Lord's commands, no matter how reckless and confusing they may seem.  Did it make sense to walk through the Red Sea or march around Jericho?  Surely not.  But so be it.  And when I look at the difficulties surrounding me and wonder what God has in store, I am grateful to be in the middle of teaching the story of Moses to my children.  Sometimes the Lord allows difficult things to happen, like Pharaoh's hardened heart, in order to create miracles in our lives that will testify of His power and love for His children throughout all the ages and to all the world of mankind. 

Friday, October 17, 2014

Cute Clothes Make Everything Better

"Ummm...I thought you went to work on Tuesdays, not Mondays."  My kids' karate teacher sat down in his usual spot outside our mutual kiddos' elementary school a few weeks ago.

"I do." I answered, hardly glancing up from my book.

"So...why are you wearing that?" He referred to the sassy upscale red dress and matching heels I was sporting.

"It was a hard weekend.  I'm making it a good day."

(Shrug) "Well, as long as you're comfortable."

I was very comfortable.  Sexy clothes make me extremely comfortable, especially when stress and frustration are chasing me.  And power red says, "I am totally confident and independent.  Look me in the eye...if you dare!"  In a manner of speaking, more than half the battle against stressful situations finds itself finished if you can intimidate the elements around you enough to get them to leave you alone.  And trouble tends to flee in shame and terror if we look like we know what we're doing.  Truly, if we look the proper ticket people who may be inclined to give us a hard time will find themselves checked by our appearance of strength and self assurance. 

So often we try to depend on other people or uncontrollable outside circumstances to make us feel better when life performs its job of teaching by kicking us around, but I've learned through experience that it is wiser to try to pull myself up as far as is possible instead of putting that burden on others and then complain when they cannot make you happy.  That isn't to say that inviting help when needed is wrong or bad, but it is a peaceful and inviting person who can take matters into his own hands and do his part to don a smile.  Such people make the world a better place.  Besides, it's much more entertaining to wear a fabulous outfit and feel great than to sink into the dreary existence of depression and anxiety without a fight.

Thursday, October 16, 2014

Good Girls are Sexier...Just Sayin'

I am and have always been what a person may term as a "good girl."  I've voluntarily never had an extramarital love affair, never had a sip of alcohol, was a virgin on the wedding night and so on.  But I have also never heard anyone who has seen me on a dance floor describe me as boring and I have had way too  many men attempt to get me to break that long standing record of chaste morality.  Though it seems counter intuitive that virtuous women are sexy, it is a concept that makes perfect sense.

We all of us, or most at least, have natural human feelings which include passion, sensuality and the like.  I often hear people make the very strange assumption that virtuous people are so because they lack sufficient interest in sexuality.  Bosh!  I have known a great many women who are good by choice but also have boiling inside an unquenchable and passionate desire for sensuality.  That is exactly what makes them sexier than those women who openly throw themselves at every man they see.  Honestly, men, help me out here.  Would you rather date a woman who gave you and everyone else her worn, tired out, overly used body and was so absorbed with being sexier than the next girl that she lost her appeal altogether, or a woman who had intelligence and purpose, spent her time in making herself healthy and beautiful in mind, body, and spirit, and wanted to give you her whole person, surrender her love and sexuality exclusively to you alone, and flood you with all the passion she'd been jealously harboring in wait for the right guy to come along?  Would you prefer a woman who you know will go from you to the next guy without caring much for either of you or respecting herself, or a woman who spends her time at the library, the beauty salon, the lingerie store and the gym, making herself the best person she can be so that she can give herself to you alone, body and soul, and delight in the idea of being all yours in your arms, in your heart and in your bed?  Such a woman naturally inspires her man to be the most amazing, heroic, powerful man he can be and lifts him to higher ground morally, emotionally, and mentally, allowing him to become something greater than he ever thought he could be.  C'mon, people.  Seriously?

There is no comparison in my mind and in my experience men have a tendency to agree.  I have seen guys who could have had any easy woman on earth completely lose their minds over such a good girl as I've described.  More powerfully, it is a true concept that pure love and reckless lust cannot coincide one with another.  Love and attraction can exist in the mind at the same time but love and lust cannot.  The more a person engages in things that damage the soul, the less capable they become of having pure, passionate, overwhelming love.  Good girls know what true love is and they know best how to shower their man with it. 

Just sayin'.