Sunday Hymnal

Ah, yes...nothing like some spirituals...





Rock on...

Echoes

I was reviewing some early posts and came upon this one, aged and yet spot-on - as he always has been.

From Billy, back in November of 2006...

"...What you're seeing tonight is only a rehearsal for full-blast civil war in America. Now, it breaks my heart to have to tell you this, and I don't want to see that any more than you do, but there can be no other natural course of these affairs. Sooner or later, that's what it's coming to. And I want you to remember me, Melissa: the kook who told you this back in 2006. Okay?"

Sigh...I wonder if that young Melissa remembers that night, now.


"If you have knowledge, let others light their candles at it."
~Margaret Fuller

That Place

There is one place I've been that instantly lifts from my soul the burdens of life, worries, and dread. And it's strange because it is also tainted so...almost a decade ago and yet that evening still rings loud as did the countdown of the year and the jarring clash of the band as I looked at my pretty shoes.

But even so...even so...it was the place I went to when I'd recovered myself. After all the drama, all the tears, and recriminations...after that madness was danced with and whirled away. I was the healthiest I'd ever been. So I let myself go there, alone this time, to celebrate.

Everytime I drive into town I see that front range peeking and we greet each other with released breath. That is a view not often noted, the Flat Irons stealing the show easily. One has to turn away from them in that meadow to see the undulating hills. And nestled below that town...

I was perhaps 15 the first time I saw it. Visiting my sister in a nearby town, her friend took me there to see the mountains. I was a city girl, entirely. The plains that skirt that range did not look that different - though the air certainly was. But we drove toward that town and my eyes widened. They beg you to come, keep coming, to climb and know them. And so we did, driving to Boulder Falls and (as they allowed it long ago) climbed behind and above them to where the fall was a mere trickling stream.

I remember looking up and up and seeing specks against that rock and having the sudden realization that those were people climbing up there. I hadn't a moment of vertigo before that moment but suddenly it came over me in a wave and I had to put my hands to those rocks to regain my senses.

Those rocks...I do not know what is there that meshes so with my soul. I have a courage and a strength there. I am often self-doubting and trying to work out Plan A, B and C before doing anything. But in those rocks, that air...I just Do.

I'll get there again this winter. I swear it - my feet will pattern that frosty meadow again. I just need to be patient. Not my strong point, no. I have to trust it Will Be. Because I need that place in me. I need that internal exhalation of soul. I need to let it all go even if only for a day.

There's a long night coming...I might not get another chance for a very long time.

Serene

I cannot tell you with what pleasure I saw this posting of dear Sarah, smiling as she hurtles toward motherhood. Mind, I think anyone bringing children into the world as it will become is mad - but I give her a special wink and a nod. She's earned it like so few others have. And I like to think that smart people giving birth to and raising smart kids may be just what we need.

Strange, though - we are like enough to be sisters. I saw in that photo myself at about 26...very weird. They say we each have a twin in the world...

Beliefs

There is a very interesting convo here, noted by Roberta here.

I have, for many years, found it astounding how so many religions across so many centuries have so many common stories and backgrounds. "Hang he pah du rootless tree" easily translated over to a crucifix much later. An ancient triskele becomes a four-legged cross which survived around the world across many ages only to be snatched up as a symbol of German wretchedness. And, it would seem, a taste for blood and dominion was substantiated by a wholesale retelling of a "savior" story.

All these things across all the ages in the name of a God or Gods which none can ensure await them after this path ends. It is faith only that supports them and I am always amazed at what it allows people to survive. Faith alone can move us from the very edge of our lives back to a center. But that faith can be turned by a crafty individual to serve his own purpose. Because it helps to have something concrete to put ones faith in.

My opinion of Islam? An utter sham suited to ensure the pyramid scheme of power continues unabated. Is there a way to find "agreement"? No. The very tenets demand nothing less than our adherence or death. There are no other "outs". Well, that of slavery and tithing for survival.

Does that mean I wish to place them all in a compound? No. However, it does make me itch to thank them all for their time, cash them out and send them back home with a pat on the fanny. Been swell, adios. Happy to deal with you - from a generous distance. Anything less is accepting a risk - a guaranteed risk - that you will have to one day submit or die. "Moderates" will say that there is an option - that the religion isn't so damning. But the religion also states that it's alright to lie, to hide, to deny all if it means the desired end is met. Therefore, no protestations can be trusted on their face.

This also means that we've no business meddling in their affairs. Go home, do whatever you like - there. We will leave you to your advancements or steady decline. It has been our bane that we feel the need to "save" people from themselves. One can extend that all the way back home to the welfare state. Once upon a time stupid people failed. It hurt, usually. And they learned. The removal of that failure, that pain, is what has made this country what it is today.

I know these opinions are not popular. I am confident an educated person could argue me to death over them. But I do not try to wash it over with any manner of "my religion is better than yours" dogma. I know merely what they say. I know them by their acts. I understand their commandments. And I weary of those who will gloss them over with a parental kindness and slap of a wrist and a "they'll grow out of it" mentality. Fine, let them. Just not here, not among us, and let us not be the lab for their explosive experiments in higher learning.

We've our own growing pains to attend to, after all. No?

Morning Diamonds

This is what I was greeted with when I went out with Ranger. What a lovely design! And the first attempt by a very juvenile spider.

Perhaps you can see a few of them in their birth-nest. The mother? A lovely green creature who I cannot find just now...she nursed them so well, moving the strange nugget of silk around the garden until she managed to make this relatively waterproof snare in the serrano bush.

There were scattered trails of silk here and there this morning but only this spider seemed to have the concept down. What an amazing transmission of skills, really. Waking up to the world a few days ago and then knowing what must be done...it was studiously moving the droplets, perhaps aware that their weight could ruin the lace.

I've been rather taken with the whole process, worrying about the mother who hardly had time to hunt. Trooper saw a praying mantis (juvenile) in the area and worried about the war. He hates spiders but even he had to admit this was an interesting affair. We needn't have worried. She snatched him up and stowed him nearby, perhaps saving him to nurse her through the long weeks of waiting. Or perhaps holding it in reserve for her own to suckle upon...

It was a lovely gift of nature this morning.

Plainly Put

Courtesy of this fine man...

I wonder what would happen if fifty million Americans just got up and
started for Washington D.C., by any means necessary, arrived there by car,
train, bus, plane, on foot, and went straight to the Capitol, as many
entering the building as could fit, and then just tore every stick of
furniture out of the two chambers and took it outside and burned
it.

Would the people who made this horror get that? Would they get the
hint?

No. They'd bring marshmallows and gin, and smile - "we're through with that facade anyway".