Friday, December 31, 2010

Happy New Year

"We spend January 1 walking through our lives, room by room, drawing up a list of work to be done, cracks to be patched. Maybe this year, to balance the list, we ought to walk through the rooms of our lives not looking for flaws, but for potential."

-Ellen Goodman

Wednesday, December 29, 2010

I am Because we Are

"When you dehumanize the other, whether you like it or not, inexorably, you are dehumanized. You need the other person to be all they can be in order for you to be all you can be."

-Desmond Tutu

Tuesday, December 28, 2010

One Tool of Many

Al-Anon and AA are one tool of many to treat co-dependency and addiction - but I have come to realize that there are many, many more. One thing I will say from my experience of attending meetings, is they help at first, to normalize what you are feeling. But after a while, you are just in the same swirl, with the same people, doing the same things over and over again. For me, I needed to get out of that and start filling my life with meaningful activities. Otherwise, I think I would still be in that same swirl.

When you fill your life up with good things, there is very little time for the bad. You have to make a choice to stay on course and do what you planned. I know for a long time, I was too consumed with the bad to even consider doing something positive. And if I did have something fun planned, I would often cancel it.

But now, even if I feel bad about something, I try very hard to keep my plans, and I usually end up having a great time.

Monday, December 27, 2010

Open and Affirming

I sat in church the other day and noted the diversity within our community. I am very proud to attend an "Open and Affirming" church, which means it is open to all people, of all races, genders and sexualities.

I got to thinking of all the gifts that are wasted in what I'd call closed churches, where you have to be "just so" in order to participate. So many churches condemn homosexuals, or think if you are a single woman, like I am, that you need a husband in order to be a family, or to be whole as a woman.

It took me a long time to want to attend church "alone" with just me and the kids. Even when I was still married, it was always hard for my ex to get ready on time. I finally just started going, although it often gnawed on me to sit alone after the kids went to Sunday School.

As I sent out my Christmas cards this year, with a picture of just the three of us, I doubted our existence as an actual family. I was pleased to hear back from several people - mostly from within our church - "You are a beautiful family."

Yesterday, I thought of one woman in particular who is a lesbian. She is so full of life and she shares her gifts with the church generously. She read from the Scriptures yesterday with her strong voice, which is something that I do not have. (I hate to speak in front of people.) She also sings in the choir and reads music amazingly well, which is something that I cannot do. She also teaches Sunday School and is amazing with the children. (Which is something I will do, but would rather not Sunday after Sunday!)

She is only one example in our small church, but there are so many. We have a church that is active in so many different outreach programs and ministries - in short, a doing church. We have many people who are different or kids who have ADD, Asbergers or other "disabilities" and yet it is a church so rich with personality and love.

I have always felt like I had to do everything perfectly, or not at all. So this church has shown me that doing is better than not doing - and we truly need all of us to make the world a better place.

And, I have to say, that I am much happier now participating than I was sitting back on the sidelines and fretting about my life with an addict.

Goodnight, my angel

My friend's mother died yesterday and he posted this in her memory. I had not heard it and thought it was a beautiful lullaby.

Goodnight, my angel
Time to close your eyes
And save these questions for another day
I think I know what you've been asking me
I think you know what I've been trying to say
I promised I would never leave you
And you should always know
Wherever you may go
No matter where you are
I never will be far away

Goodnight, my angel
Now it's time to sleep
And still so many things I want to say
Remember all the songs you sang for me
When we went sailing on an emerald bay
And like a boat out on the ocean
I'm rocking you to sleep
The water's dark and deep
Inside this ancient heart
You'll always be a part of me


Goodnight, my angel
Now it's time to dream
And dream how wonderful your life will be
Someday your child may cry
And if you sing this lullabye
Then in your heart
There will always be a part of me

Someday we'll all be gone
But lullabyes go on and on...
They never die
That's how you
And I
Will be

- Billy Joel

Friday, December 24, 2010

Women in Islam

Hurairah, may Allah be pleased with him, reported that a man came to Allah's Apostle and said,

"O Allah's Apostle, who is most worthy of my best companionship and most honorable treatment?" The Prophet replied, "Your mother." The man asked, "Who is next?" The Prophet said, "Your mother." The man further asked, "Who is next?" The Prophet replied, "Your mother." The man asked for the third time, "Who is next?" The Prophet said, "Your father." [Narrated by Bukhari]

Thursday, December 23, 2010

“But I, being poor, have only my dreams. I have spread my dreams under your feet; tread softly, because you tread on my dreams.”


Wednesday, December 22, 2010

The Only Thing in the World

"Man is a child, afraid of fatherhood; man is a child, and not a father. Man is an artist who needs all the care, all the warmth for himself, as my father did. There is no end to his needs. He needs faith, indulgence, humor; he needs worship, good cooking, mended socks, errands, a hostess, a mistress, a mother, a sister, a secretary, a friend. He needs to be the only thing in the world."

-Anais Nin

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

Amy Grant - Breath of Heaven

A woman sang this at church yesteday and it has to be one of the most beautiful Christmas songs.

I have traveled
Many moonless nights
Cold and weary
With a babe inside
And I wonder
What I've done
Holy Father
You have come
Chosen me now
To carry your son

I am waiting
in a silent prayer
I am frightened
by the load I bear
In a world as cold as stone
Must I walk this path alone
Be with me now
Be with me now

Breath of Heaven
Hold me together
Be forever near me
Breath of Heaven

Breath of Heaven
Lighten my darkness
Pour over me, your holyness
For your holy Breath of Heaven

Do you wonder
As you watch my face
If a wiser one, should of had my place
But I offer-all I am
For the mercy-of your plan
Help me be strong
Help me be
Help me

Breath of Heaven
Hold me together
Be forever near me
Breath of Heaven

Breath of Heaven
Lighten my darkness
Pour over me, your holyness
For your holy Breath of Heaven

-Amy Grant

Monday, December 20, 2010

"We love best those who are, or act out for us, a self we do not wish to be or act out."

-Anais Nin

Sunday, December 19, 2010

The Role of Family in "Recovery"

In Rational Recovery®, the family has an entirely different role than in the traditional disease/treatment way of thinking.

One popular idea is that families should gather together with other troubled families, seeking outside guidance and advice.

One good example of this approach is Al-Anon, which views addiction/alcoholism as a family disease, and views family members as “enablers” and “codependents.”

Along the same lines, you may have heard of “interventions,” in which the family has a little surprise party for their substance abuser, with the aim of shaming him/her into immediate enrollment in an addiction treatment center. That kind of “tough-love”action…

Addiction is insatiable, and will consume all of any family’s emotional and financial resources, and still demand more.

In AVRT-based recovery, families require the addicted member to choose between his addiction and family membership.

Accordingly, we heartily endorse the zero-tolerance ultimatum, backed by Plan B, the exact action the family will take when…

- The Zero-Tolerance Ultimatum for the Addicted Spouse or Significant Other (ASS) in Your Family © 2005, Jack Trimpey

Saturday, December 18, 2010

Rational Recovery

• There are no Rational Recovery groups anywhere in the world! Your desire for "support" is nothing more, and nothing less, than a plan to get loaded in the absence of support.
• There is nothing in your past, in your genes, in your brain, or in your personality that compels you to drink or use. Using is voluntary, purposeful behavior.
• The sole cause of your addiction is a voice in your head that tells you to "Do it!" in a thousand different ways. That is your Addictive Voice.
Personal problems don't cause addiction; addiction causes your personal problems.
• Self-improvement does not result in addiction recovery. Recovery leads to self-improvement.
• You drink or use because you love to get high. Admit it!
• The worst possible way to quit something you love is one-day-at-a-time.
• Stay away from recovery groups of all kinds; you can't possibly recover there. They'll never let you go, and you'll be "in recovery" forever.
• Stay away from shrinks; most substance abuse counselors are members of recovery groups, unable to trust themselves without evening supervision. The rest have never been addicted, and can only guess at what addiction is and what to do about it.
• Your physician can't help you with your addiction; he may even be supporting it. Most refer to recovery groups. However, they do have good treatments for withdrawal, if you are in danger of seizures.
• Consider that the real truth about addiction and recovery lies in the exact opposite of most popular beliefs.
Recall your original family values, the ideas about right and wrong you knew by the age of 5 or 6. Those are your foundation for addiction recovery.
• Your beliefs about God are fine, whether you believe or not. Sound, spritual growth may only follow AVRT-based recovery, when your thoughts are not biased by the mandate of addiction.
• AVRT-based recovery is as difficult as you make it, and takes as long as you choose.
• If you won't trust yourself, why should anyone else?

There is enough information at this website for you to totally recover from any addiction, e.g., alcohol, crank, crack, heroin, opiates, sex and porn addiction, overeating, computer addiction, gambling, or other personal behavior that goes against your own better judgment.
• If you're drinking/using today, you won't learn much of anything. Come back in the morning or when you aren't under the influence.
• To quit your addiction you must first stop drinking/using long enough to learn AVRT®.
Addiction recovery is not a group project; it is an individual responsibility. You are ultimately on your own.

Friday, December 17, 2010

"When your body opens your mind opens."


Thursday, December 16, 2010

Blowin' In the Wind

My heart and soul are with the Veterans marching against the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan right now in Washington, DC.

How many roads must a man walk down
Before you call him a man ?
How many seas must a white dove sail
Before she sleeps in the sand ?
Yes, how many times must the cannon balls fly
Before they're forever banned ?
The answer my friend is blowin' in the wind
The answer is blowin' in the wind.

Yes, how many years can a mountain exist
Before it's washed to the sea ?
Yes, how many years can some people exist
Before they're allowed to be free ?
Yes, how many times can a man turn his head
Pretending he just doesn't see
The answer my friend is blowin' in the wind
The answer is blowin' in the wind.

Yes, how many times must a man look up
Before he can see the sky ?
Yes, how many ears must one man have
Before he can hear people cry ?
Yes, how many deaths will it take till he knows
That too many people have died
The answer my friend is blowin' in the wind
The answer is blowin' in the wind.

-Bob Dylan

Wednesday, December 15, 2010


"The reality of the other person is not in what he reveals to you, but in what he cannot reveal to you. Therefore, if you would understand him, listen not to what he says but rather what he does not say."

— Kahlil Gibran

Monday, December 13, 2010

The Gift of the Blessing

My sister gave me this CD more than a year ago and it has helped me greatly. I must say that I listened to it once a year ago and sort of processed it and put it away. I recently re-listened to it about a month ago and began applying it almost every day. It has really helped me with acceptance and peace.

There are three parts to the Blessing:
1. Bless those who have suffered
2. Those who have inflicted the suffering. This in NO WAY approves or endorses the action, it's only an acknowledgement of the "inflictor's" part in the formula. It releases the hurt and the ways of knowing the pain to help it move through and clear in your body.
3. Most importantly, BLESS YOU, who have witnessed the suffering.

* Sit, relax, take a few deep breaths using stomach muscles to expand the lower 1/3 of your lungs, and then to push out the air from your lungs.
* Image a light from above, coming to the top of your head, flowing all about you. This is your "God-connection"
* Imagine a more global (not personal) difficult, horrific, pain-filled situation, such as the strife in the Middle East, or the horrors of 9-11, or the massacres in Africa, or Hitler's slaughter of the Jews....the news and history books are full of possibilities. Choose one that has strongly affected you or is causing you pain to think of it now.

1. I bless those who have suffered. I bless those who have lost loved ones, who have lost their children, their spouses, their friends. I bless those who have lost their homes and their lands, and their precious possessions. I bless those who are still suffering in their losses, their fears, and their agonies.
2. I bless those who have inflicted the suffering as they experience in the knowing of their part.
3. I bless MYSELF in the witnessing of the suffering. I bless myself in the witnessing of the pain and despair of others. I bless myself for feeling the pain and yet the helplessness in the witnessing. I bless myself in the witnessing of the sadness and losses of other people. I bless my own feelings in the witnessing and the compassion I feel for the suffering of others.

Meditation/blessing exercise can bring peace and release. NOW do the very same process with something in YOUR OWN LIFE. Think specifically of a person who has hurt you. If you can pin down a date, a place, and the memories of the feelings, do that. Or if it is more of a long-time infliction of pain upon you and your spirit, name the person in the scenario. And proceed the same way, ALOUD- when you are alone and feel free to name names. For now, say the names silently in your own mind:

1. I bless myself who has suffered at the hands and words of __________. I bless myself who received the pain, physical and mental and emotional because of what _________ did. I bless my body for holding the pain in this way _______________. I bless myself for all the ways I have come to know myself because of this experience in my life.

2. I bless ____________for being the one who cause me this pain and suffering. I do not say that what they did was right. I simply bless them to free my heart, mind and body from the pain I have carried for so long. I bless_________as they knew not what they had caused. They were operating from their own fears and limitations. I bless ________though what they did was hurtful and wrong.

3. I bless myself as witness to the pain. I bless myself as witness to the loss of trust, the loss of security. I bless myself when I lost a part of myself...of my childhood. I bless myself in the knowing of what I have lost. I bless myself in the burying of the pain in my body. I bless my body for holding the pain. I bless my body in releasing the pain which no longer serves me. I bless myself, I bless myself, I bless myself as the witness to my suffering.

Do this each time you think of a person who has hurt you. Do it for each person, and each traumatic experience of pain and suffering in your life.

Then soon you will find yourself blessing EVERYTHING, feeling thankful for everything, which brings us right back to the LAW OF ATTRACTION.

Doing this exercise once a day can bring great great freedom of spirit, and a feeling that you are contributing something of value to a troubled world. You will see that there are ever so many more wondrous and beautiful things about the world and its people than there are concerns..The more people who become peaceful, the more peaceful becomes the world. So it only makes sense for each one of us to find a way to find peace within our own hearts. The more who do, the faster the positive changes in the world. If you don't make a personal commitment to peace, you will attract more difficult lessons. Here's a way to enhance your path to peace.

-"How to Apply The Gift of the Blessing"By Judy M Johnson, based on
ancient scripture texts from the Dead Sea Scrolls in the Nag Hamadi Library; from The Gospel of Thomas/The Sayings of Jesus, as reported by Gregg Braden in The Gift of the Blessing.

Verbal Abuse

"A child's name calling ("You poo poo!") and an adult's name calling ("You bitch!") both originate witin the same level of emotional development. The child hasn't had time to mature, so we are not disturbed by his name calling. The adult who is still name calling not only is disturbing but also be dangerous." (137)

"Now, let us look at the origins of the abuser's behavior. The typical abuser also grew up in Reality 1, where Power Over and dominance prevailed, and hence so did verbal abuse. Also, as with the case of the partner, many of his feelings were neither validated nor accepted. However, unlike the partner, he had no compassionate witness to his experience. Without a compassionate witness, he could conclude only that nothing was wrong. If nothing was wrong at all, then all his painful feelings must not exist. Automatically he stopped feeling his painful feelings. He closed them off from awareness as one would close a door. And he did not know what he suffered. In this way he closed the door on a part of himself." (171)

"Without the knowledge of his feelings - of what he had suffered - he could not experience empathy and compassion and so could not cross the threshold into Reality II. This Reality was now behind closed doors.

Since the abuser feels justified in his behavior and seems to have no comprehension of its effects, we can only assume that he is acting out his repressed feelings and is, therefore, acting compulsively. Abusers seek Power Over because they feel helpless. The helpless, painful feelings of childhood that "must not exist" and "must not be felt" do exist and, if not felt, are acted out.

A long time ago in the abuser's childhood, he closed the door on these feelings. To survive in childhood he could do no less. His feeling self, nonetheless, lived on behind closed doors.

The longer the child within is unrecognized, the more enraged it becomes, and consequently, the more rage the abuser acts out. Alice Miller tells us

'As long as this child within us is not allowed to become aware of what happened to him or her, part of his or her emotional life will remain frozen, and sensitivity to the humiliations of childhood will therefore be dulled. All appeals to love, solidarity, and compassion will be useless if this crucial prerequisite of sympathy and understanding is missing.' (Alice Miller, For your Own Good, 1983, p xv.)

Appeals to the abuser's compassion are fruitless, because the abuser is not empathetic." (172)

"The confirmed abuser can define himself and the interpersonal reality so convincingly that the partner may accept his definitions. Such acceptance and trust increase her most people, he's Mr. Nice Guy."...The abuser's loss of his feeling self and consequent feelings of powerlessness usually compel him to increasing self-aggrandizement and correspondingly greater disparagement of his partner. However, he cannot, by abuse, bring his stifled feeling self to life. Since he mistakes excitement for aliveness and triumph for strength, he remains in constant need of bolstering his ideal image. Usually, verbal abusers who become physically abusive do not see themselves as abusive, even when they are arrested. The abuser's denial arises out of the conflict between who he thinks he is and his compulsion to act abusively. The denial is a defense against the shattering of his ideal image and an impending identity crisis. His very identity would be at stake if he were to admit to what he was doing. This is why verbal abusers do not sincerely apologize." (174)

"As time passes, the typical abuser is more and more unwilling to face himself and the pain of his feelings. When they do surface, their source, to him, is his partner. This is projection. Through this projection, he will accuse his partner of all that he does, and blame her for all the abuse that she suffers. She then becomes as he once was, wounded and without a witness to her wounding." (175)

- Patricia Evans, The Verbally Abusive Relationship

Sunday, December 12, 2010


"Conformity is the jailer of freedom and the enemy of growth."

-John F. Kennedy

Saturday, December 11, 2010

"No one has ever loved an adventurous woman as they have loved adventurous men."

-Anais Nin

Tuesday, December 7, 2010

"I just can't find a good excuse for not being happy."

- Jerry Garcia

Monday, December 6, 2010

Apparently I am a Kidnapper Now

So much has happened recently that I don't even know where to begin really.

I was served court papers on Saturday afternoon from my ex-husband's attorney. They stated that he had been sober for 3 years and that I intended to obtain an immediate passport and take the kids to Lebanon, among other things.

It was a sworn and notorized affidafit.

I immediately noticed that my ex has not been sober for 3 years. Apart from the obvious time 2 weeks ago when I saw him noticably NOT sober, he attended Betty Ford for 90 days 2 years ago. I don't believe Betty Ford takes on sober patients for 90 days.

He now says that was a typo.

I don't know many sober alcoholics who are not absolutely certain of EXACTLY how many days they have been sober. Staying sober takes discipline. It is something someone in AA is very proud of and has to continually repeat whenever they introduce themselves at a meeting - when they attend meetings.

As for the claim that I plan to take the kids to Lebanon, well, that just makes me laugh. He even laughed about it.

He now says he intends to change our agreement so that I can NEVER take the kids out of the country. This seems rediculous to me, and completely unfair the kids. One of my hopes for them - and for all of us - is that we will begin to travel again. I think traveling gives so much perspective on life. I know that going to Lebanon when I was 20 completely changed me. I am very grateful for that trip.

I made some wontons after church yesterday and offered him some when he came to pick up the kids. I know he likes them. I debated it, but in the end I decided there was no need not to be nice. I had them afterall. He asked me if there was arsenic in them, and then ate them.

I have decided the best way to deal with my ex without losing my mind is just to always approach him as if he were ill. I must detach. If I am able to do something nice that doesn't hurt me, I will do it. But I won't be bullied by him anymore and I won't engage.

Sunday, December 5, 2010

"There isn't a right or wrong way to have a relationship just harmless and harmful ones."

-Bill Jeffries

Saturday, December 4, 2010

‎"Telling the truth faster enables us to live more freely, lightly, and powerfully ourselves."


Friday, December 3, 2010

"A man who views the world at 50 the same as he did at 20 has wasted 30 years of his life."

- Mohammed Ali

Thursday, December 2, 2010


Looking at my life
I see that only Love
Has been my soul's companion
From deep inside
My soul cries out
Do not wait, surrender
For the sake of Love

- Rumi

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Education Lies in Your Hands


What is the place of discipline in education?


I should say, none.

Just a minute, I will explain it further. What is the purpose of discipline? What do you mean by discipline? You, being the teacher, when you discipline, what happens? You are forcing, compelling; there is compulsion, however nice, however kind, which means conformity, imitation, fear.

But you will say, `How can a large school be run without discipline?'. It cannot. Therefore, large schools cease to be educational institutions. They are profitable institutions, for the boss or for the government, for the headmaster or the owner.

Sir, if you love your child, do you discipline him? Do you compel him? Do you force him into a pattern of thought? You watch him, don't you? You try to understand him, you try to discover what are the motives, the urges, the drives, that are behind what he does; and by understanding him, you bring about the right environment, the right amount of sleep, the right food, the right amount of play.

All that is implied, when you love a child; but we don't love children, because we have no love in our own hearts. We just breed children.

And naturally, when you have many, you must discipline them, and discipline becomes an easy way out of the difficulty. After all, discipline means resistance. You create resistance against that which you are disciplining.

Do you think resistance will bring about understanding, thought, affection?

Discipline can only build walls about you. Discipline is always exclusive, whereas understanding is inclusive.

Understanding comes when you investigate, when you enquire, when you search out, which requires care, consideration, thought, affection.

In a large school, such things are not possible, but only in a small school. But small schools are not profitable to the private owner or to the government; and since you, who are responsible for the government, are not really interested in your children, what does it matter?

If you loved your children, not just as toys, as playthings to amuse you for a little while and a nuisance afterwards, if you really loved them, would you allow all these things to go on? Wouldn't you want to know what they eat, where they sleep, what they do all day long; whether they are beaten, whether they are crushed, whether they are destroyed?

But this would mean an enquiry, consideration for others, whether for your own child or your neighbour's; and you have no consideration, either for your children, or for your wife or husband. So, the matter lies in your hands, Sirs, not in the hands of any government or system.

- jk, The Collected Works, Vol IV Bombay 9th Public Talk 13th March, 1948

Saturday, November 27, 2010

"The more joy we have the more nearly perfect we are."

-Benedict De Spinoza

Friday, November 26, 2010


I had a really great Thanksgiving. Perhaps, or definately I should say, the best of my life.

I set some boundaries with my ex-husband and told him we needed to stick to the schedule because we had some last minute changes. My uncle was supposed to host Thanksgiving, but came down with the flu the day before, so we moved it to my house Wednesday night.

One of my other uncles called me that night sounding drunk and wanting to pick a fight. I just hung up and didn't return his calls. I told my mom he was not welcome at my house.

I have worked too hard for peace. No one is going to take it from me, including my own blood.

The kids went with their dad for a few hours that morning and I cooked and cleaned away. It was a small group, but everyone pitched in and it just flowed really well. The food was great - not outstanding by any means, but it was just a fabulous and relaxing day. No drama. No stress.

This morning, we went to get our Christmas Tree. I was a bit worried about this because we have a high ceiling and I wanted to get a good sized tree. I considered asking my ex, but decided it was time to start making our own traditions. The guys at the farm tied the tree to the top of the car and my son and I were able to take it off and get it inside and into the stand without any stress or cursing. It was the first time I have felt joy decorating the tree and not a sense of stress or rushing to finish. The house is now clean and beautiful and smells like Christmas.

All is well in my world.

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

What to do?

I am really missing my moms mom. I had a cooking disaster on Saturday and all I could think was I was she was here so I could call her.

It seems that everyone has their Thanksgiving plans but I just feel sort of lost without my grandmas here. They gave everything a purpose. My dad and his wife just decided to go to the beach. My mom's family will get together at my grandmas house where my uncle still lives. I called to coordinate with him Saturday and her voice was still on the machine. It nearly broke me.

Sunday, November 21, 2010

Finding Joy

We got through the weekend without too much drama, which was all I was hoping for.

I feel deeply saddened however that we are back to survival mode.

I want to do so much more than just survive.

It struck me yesterday just how much I have lost in these last 8 years.

My face is worn and tired. I know that beauty is not everything. But, I still wish I had not wasted my best years without sleep, love or proper companionship. And I regret that there was so much pain, tears and solitude.

I want to be able to have a "normal" relationship. And I have not been able to do that even now that I am divorced because so much of my energy is directed at my ex-husband and figuring out how to protect my children.

I want my children to do more than survive. I want them to thrive. I want them to know joy and laughter. The carefree days of childhood. I want them to laugh, to play and to have fun.

I want to read more. I want to write more. I want to have a fulfilling career. I want to learn how to play the piano and speak other languages. I want to travel.

I want to live.

Today, I did my Kundalini Yoga and then I taught myself how to play a hymn we sang at church on the piano. It is taking me a long time, but I can slowly play when I try. Music brings so much joy. I want to have a happy home.

God of the sparrow God of the whale
God of the swirling stars
How does the creature say Awe
How does the creature say Praise

God of the earthquake God of the storm
God of the trumpet blast
How does the creature cry Woe
How does the creature cry Save

God of the rainbow God of the cross
God of the empty grave
How does the creature say Grace
How does the creature say Thanks

God of the hungry God of the sick
God of the prodigal
How does the creature say Care
How does the creature say Life

God of the neighbor God of the foe
God of the pruning hook
How does the creature say Love
How does the creature say Peace

God of the ages God near at hand
God of the loving heart
How do your children say Joy
How do your children say Home

Saturday, November 20, 2010


"When I dare to be powerful - to use my strength in the service of my vision, then it becomes less and less important whether I am afraid".

- Audre Lorde

Friday, November 19, 2010

Another Relapse

I found that my ex had relapsed on Tuesday and am back to fighting for my kids. This means we will have to go back to court in January.

I spent all week organizing, documenting and filing the mountain of paperwork. Yesterday I saw the judge. Until we go back to court, it is up to me to enforce the sobriety agreement in our divorce decree.

If I could do it over again I would have been firmer in the negotiations from the get-go and not given him any benefit of the doubt. He has not earned benefit of the doubt.

But now I am back to fighting, which is really draining. So this time, I will collect myself and fight for it all. And I will finish it for good.

My body feels beat up again. My back feels like it is broken. I am back to too many Excederines and Ibuprofens to manage the pain, which then upsets my stomach. This week, I had to push through to protect my children. But I took care of myself last night by inviting a friend over who is in a similar situation with her kids, having some good girl time and a good meal.

It's important for the kids to be around each other because they are all feeling the affects of divorce and addiction. I want to sever some of their feelings of isolation and alienation. The kids break my heart. I know I have to fight for them. When I am too tired and I want to give up I remind myself, I have to fight for them. I have to fight like all of our lives depend on it.

Today I went to the chiropractor, accupuncture and gym. I have to get my body to relax. This stress is not sustainable. It is breaking me down.

I decided that I don't have to give in to anything anymore. I don't have to put up with my ex. There won't be any more compromises or feeling sorry for him. We have had over 8 years of that. I am taking back my life and demanding safety and fairness for my children.

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Always On Your Side

My yesterdays are all boxed up and neatly put away
But every now and then you come to mind
'Cause you were always waiting to be picked to play the game
But when your name was called, you found a place to hide
When you knew that I was always on your side.

Well everything was easy then, so sweet and innocent
But your demons and your angels reappeared
Leavin' only traces of the man you thought you'd be
Leaving me with no place left to go from here
Leavin' me with so many questions all these years.

Is there some place far away, some place where all is clear
Easy to start over with the ones you hold so dear
Or are you left to wander, all alone, eternally
Is this really how it's really meant to be?
Well is it how it's really meant to be?

Well they say that love is in the air, but never is it clear,
How to pull it close and make it stay
If butterflies are free to fly, why do they fly away?
And I'm left to carry on and wonder why
Even through it all, I'm always on your side.

Is there some place far away, some place where all is clear
Easy to start over with the ones you hold so dear
Or are we left to wander, all alone, eternally?
Is this really how it's really meant to be?
Well is it how it's really meant to be?

Well they say that love is in the air, never is it clear
How to pull it close and make it stay
Butterflies are free to fly, why do they fly away?
Leavin' me to carry on and wonder why
Was it you that kept me wandering through this life?
When you know that I was always on your side.

- Sheryl Crow

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Being Clear About Desires - Getting What We Want

The best way to get what we want from life is to first know what we want. If we haven't taken the time to really understand and identify what would truly make us happy, we won't be able to ask for it from those around us or from the universe. We may not even be able to recognize it once it arrives. Once we are clear about what we want, we can communicate it to those around us. When we can be honest about who we are and what we want, there is no need to demand, be rude or aggressive, or manipulate others that are involved in helping us get what we want. Instead, we know that we are transmitting a signal on the right frequency to bring all that we desire into our experience.

As the world evolves, humanity is learning to work from the heart. We may have been taught that the way to get what we want is to follow certain rules, play particular games, or even engage in acts that use less than our highest integrity. The only rules we need to apply are those of intention and connection. In terms of energy, we can see that it takes a lot of energy to keep up a false front or act in a way that is counter to our true nature, but much less energy is expended when we can just be and enjoy connections that energize us in return. Then our energy can be directed toward living the life we want right now.

Society has certain expectations of behavior and the roles each of us should play, but as spiritual beings we are not bound by these superficial structures unless we choose to accept them. Instead, we can listen to our hearts and follow what we know to be true and meaningful for us. In doing so, we will find others who have chosen the same path. It can be easy to get caught up in following goals that appear to be what we want, but when we pursue the underlying value, we are certain to stay on our right path and continue to feed our soul.

by Stephanie Renée

Monday, November 15, 2010

My Lost Youth

Often I think of the beautiful town
That is seated by the sea;
Often in thought go up and down
The pleasant streets of that dear old town,
And my youth comes back to me.
And a verse of a Lapland song
Is haunting my memory still:
"A boy's will is the wind's will,
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts."

I can see the shadowy lines of its trees,
And catch, in sudden gleams,
The sheen of the far-surrounding seas,
And islands that were the Hesperides
Of all my boyish dreams.
And the burden of that old song,
It murmurs and whispers still:
"A boy's will is the wind's will,
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts."

I remember the black wharves and the slips,
And the sea-tides tossing free;
And Spanish sailors with bearded lips,
And the beauty and mystery of the ships,
And the magic of the sea.
And the voice of that wayward song
Is singing and saying still:
"A boy's will is the wind's will,
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts."

I remember the bulwarks by the shore,
And the fort upon the hill;
The sunrise gun, with its hollow roar,
The drum-beat repeated o'er and o'er,
And the bugle wild and shrill.
And the music of that old song
Throbs in my memory still:
"A boy's will is the wind's will,
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts."

I remember the sea-fight far away,
How it thundered o'er the tide!
And the dead captains, as they lay
In their graves, o'erlooking the tranquil bay,
Where they in battle died.
And the sound of that mournful song
Goes through me with a thrill:
"A boy's will is the wind's will,
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts."

I can see the breezy dome of groves,
The shadows of Deering's Woods;
And the friendships old and the early loves
Come back with a Sabbath sound, as of doves
In quiet neighborhoods.
And the verse of that sweet old song,
It flutters and murmurs still:
"A boy's will is the wind's will,
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts."

I remember the gleams and glooms that dart
Across the school-boy's brain;
The song and the silence in the heart,
That in part are prophecies, and in part
Are longings wild and vain.
And the voice of that fitful song
Sings on, and is never still:
"A boy's will is the wind's will,
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts."

There are things of which I may not speak;
There are dreams that cannot die;
There are thoughts that make the strong heart weak,
And bring a pallor into the cheek,
And a mist before the eye.
And the words of that fatal song
Come over me like a chill:
"A boy's will is the wind's will,
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts."

Strange to me now are the forms I meet
When I visit the dear old town;
But the native air is pure and sweet,
And the trees that o'ershadow each well-known street,
As they balance up and down,
Are singing the beautiful song,
Are sighing and whispering still:
"A boy's will is the wind's will,
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts."

And Deering's Woods are fresh and fair,
And with joy that is almost pain
My heart goes back to wander there,
And among the dreams of the days that were,
I find my lost youth again.
And the strange and beautiful song,
The groves are repeating it still:
"A boy's will is the wind's will,
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts."

- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Saturday, November 13, 2010

"It matters not who you love, where you love, why you love, when you love, Or how you love, It matters only that you love."

- John Lennon

Friday, November 12, 2010


"There is a poem in my throat that is not yet ready to be born. But when it is, i guarantee you, it will change the world. At the very least, it will change me."

-Mark Gonzales

Thursday, November 11, 2010

Wrong is not my Name

I am not wrong: Wrong is not my name
My name is my own my own my own

-June Jordan, Passion: New Poems, 1980

Veterans Day 2010: Honor the Consciences of Our Veterans

"Afghanistan is now in its tenth year, with no end in sight. Al Qaida isn't in Afghanistan anymore, and the war doesn't meet the criteria for just war. We need to end this war, and honor the consciences of those with the courage to stand up and say, 'I can't fight this war'."

Wednesday, November 10, 2010


Different because I choose to see/It is also whom the Creator created and needed me to be/Like buried treasure behind the mask of fear I was concealed/The reason for my being with each breath is revealed/I AM on time, in sync with love's rhythm and rhyme/I AM abundant and shining/I AM living the dream defined.

-Irradiance Theeinfinitefemme


"How can someone tell you, 'I love you,' and then mistreat you and abuse you, humiliate you, and disrespect you?"

-Don Miguel Ruiz

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

"The most precious gift we can offer is our presence. When mindfulness embraces those we love, they will bloom like flowers."

- Thich Nhat Hanh
"Why not go out on a limb? Isn't that where the fruit is?"

- Frank ScullySee More

Monday, November 8, 2010

Most People

Most people love you for what they want you to be.
But you always loved me for me.
I can tell you the worst things about me,
And know, there will never be any judgment.
If I ask for advice, you will give it.
But if I just need to talk – or vent – I can.
And you won’t interrupt or tell me your two cents.

Most people say, we are wrong.
They want us to live as they live:
In distant relationships that are long dead
Without honesty, respect or even love.

But I say, of all the people I have ever known- or loved-
You are the only people who I know -
Who I know-
Will always love me.
(And not because they have to.)

All my life I have avoided being myself.
I have been a vision of what my parents, my sisters, my grandparents, my friends, my church, or “society” has wanted me to be.
I did not even know who I was or who I am or what I “should” become.

I was afraid, always afraid.
Of gaining weight, of farting, or not being pretty enough…
But there is always something to be afraid of, and not enough people to hold you and tell you it will be alright.

The worst lie is the one you tell yourself.
Conforming to someone else’s vision of you.
Not trusting, even yourself.

We all need someone to believe in us.
We all need someone to ask if we are ok?
We all need someone to love us, as we are.

And most people, do not have that.

But I do, in you.

Truth is

"Truth is, everybody is going to hurt you; you just gotta find the ones worth suffering for."

-Bob Marley

Sunday, November 7, 2010

Over the Rainbow

I saw this perfect rainbow today after leaving church so I stopped to take a picture. A promise of better things to come, I think.

Saturday, November 6, 2010


When I was just a little girl, I asked my mother “What will I be? Will I be pretty? ” Will I be pretty? Will I be pretty? What comes next? Oh right, will I be rich which is almost pretty depending on where you shop. And the pretty question infects from conception passing blood and breath into cells. The word hangs from our mothers’ hearts in a shrill of fluorescent floodlight of worry.

“Will I be wanted? Worthy? Pretty? But puberty left me this funhouse mirror: teeth set at science fiction angles, crooked nose, face donkey-long, and pox-marked where the hormones went finger-painting - my poor mother.

“How could this happen? You’ll have porcelain skin as soon as we can see a dermatologist.” “You sucked your thumb. That’s why your teeth look like that! ” “You were hit in the face with a Frisbee when you were six, otherwise your nose would have been just fine!”

Don’t worry; we will get it all fixed she would say, grasping my face, twisting it this way and that as if it were a cabbage she might buy. But, this is not about her. Not her fault she, too, was raised to believe the greatest asset she could bestow upon her awkward little girl was a marketable façade.

By sixteen I was pickled by ointments, medications, peroxides. Teeth corralled into steel prongs, laying in a hospital bed. Face packed with gauze, cushioning the brand new nose the surgeon had carved.

Belly gorged on two pints of my own blood I had swallowed under anesthesia, and every convulsive twist of my gut, like my body screaming at me from the inside out “What did you let them do to you? ” All the while, this never ending chorus groaning on and on like the IV needle dripping liquid beauty into my blood.

“Will I be pretty? ” Will I be pretty like my mother, unwinding the gift wrap to reveal the bouquet of daughter her $10,000 bought her? Pretty? Pretty.

And now I have not seen my own face in ten years. I have not seen my own face in ten years, but this is not about me! This is about the self-mutilating circus we have painted ourselves clowns in. About women who will prowl thirty stores in six malls to find the right cocktail dress, but who haven’t a clue where to find fulfillment or how to wear joy, wandering through life shackled to a shopping bag, beneath the tyranny of those two pretty syllables.

About men wallowing on barstools, drearily practicing attraction and everyone who will drift home tonight crestfallen tonight because not enough strangers found you suitably fuckable.

This, this, is about my own some-day daughter. When you approach me, already stung-stayed with insecurity, begging, “Mom, will I be pretty? Will I be pretty? ” I will wipe that question from your mouth like cheap lipstick and answer NO.

The word pretty is unworthy of everything you will be, and no child of mine will be contained in five letters. You will be pretty intelligent, pretty creative, pretty amazing, but you will never be merely “pretty.”

-Katie Makkai

Friday, November 5, 2010

"No matter what you say in all your anger and brokenness and rage, it’s not mine to keep, it’s not mine to carry, and I won’t."

- Isa Elmazoski

Thursday, November 4, 2010


I have not felt much like writing lately. I have been busy - mostly with my kids. They have a lot of days off school lately and I have enjoyed the extra time with them.

I still miss my grandma very much. I often forget that she has died and then remember sadly that I can't call her or stop by.

One thing that I have been reflecting on lately though is how short life is and how much time we waste.

I regret all the times I was wallowing in my own miserable marriage. I wish I had spent more time with both my grandmothers and my friends.

But more than anything, I regret times arguing with anyone. Arguing is such a draining life-sucker. I don't want to do it anymore. Sometimes you just can't come to terms with someone and the best thing is just to wish them well and move on.

I have spent far too much time in my life trying to make relationships work with people because of the length of our relationship or because they were family.

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

Formula Female

"By the time they are seventeen many young women have surrendered their ambitions to a growing need for affection and their autonomy to an emotional dependence on the approval and good will of others. At seventeen the young woman is well on her way to being a formula female."

- Madonna Kolbenschlag, Kiss Sleeping Beauty Good-bye

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

"When your body is exhausted, your brain finally listens."

- Unknown

Sunday, October 24, 2010

When You Believe

There can be miracles
When you believe
Though hope is frail
It's hard to kill

- "When You Believe" - The Prince Of Egypt

Saturday, October 23, 2010

"No man could save you from yourself."

- Darcey Steinke, Suicide Blonde

Friday, October 22, 2010

Meeting with the Trustee

I met with the trustee for my bankruptcy this morning, downtown at the courthouse.

I thought it would be easier than it was. I should have known it would not be easy at all.

I have been fighting this for 2-3 years. It is never something I thought I would do in my life, ever. And it is something I really did not want to do.

I broke down sobbing mid-way through what I will call the interogation.

My attorney handed me tissues, but the whole pack was not enough.

Afterwards, he sat outside with me while I cried and cried. Still I cannot stop.

He says it will get better, and I know he's right. But today I am so very sad.

It still hurts me that I was put in this position, within a family that has so much. That I tried so hard for so many years, and they will never see that.

I gave my blood, my body and my milk for my children - their children too.

I have my tears, my health, my youth, my pride, my time, my energy and my last penny to my ex-husband and his family.

I am grateful that I am out of their "family" - if you can call it that. But it still hurts, and part of me thinks it always will.

I am grateful to have such good friends. 3 of them came and spent last weekend with me. I was embarrassed to share about my financial situation, especially with one friend who is doing very well. She paused for just a second and said, "you just call us when it's time to move out of your house, and we will all be there and help you move with trucks and everything else."

I remember
I was
a point, I was a circle,
I walked
The swords are porous green.
I fell, to the edge of a whitened eyelash,
I laughed, to the edge of death I laughed.
I remember I was a glass that breaks the water, stretched out across a cloud,
I remember I was a butterfly,
despair began to spread like darkness, bullets began to make shadows, pointed shadows.

He is your blue-colored shirt, my cup and fork, my
balcony, the din of silence in the void, my closed eyelids,
the bird that shall bear me to the grave, he is the grave.

How often they have wrangled with mountains on my lips. Hands
that burn are extinguished in wine, rivers that run dry are pinned
to the walls, parched earth tries to imprison
your voice,
your voice.

Have you the courage to dance on a mirror? have you more
strength than the brilliance of a bee upon its knees, than
the kiss of pearls shoulder to shoulder?

Do you spell out tears as I set forth a tree?
From the ledge of each well, pots of hyacinth fly
in all directions. As though temples exploding, they
cross the marble to the final star, like the grasses
that glitter in a pebble. I watch her veiling herself,

On my clothes I write God, I write heaven.
This is me. And this is you.

Like one who lives on a seesaw, I live in the pupil of your eye.
Come morning you destroy me like an arrow
, come evening
I yield to you, without a struggle I turn to dust. I say he is a mountain that bears a city, I say he is a horse that gallops in the sun.

Like one who lives in deceit, I stone myself and call for help
Is there a terror greater than veiled fear, than
a deserted evening, than feet that tread on heaven,
than waves sketched like rainfall, than signs of thunder,than a cage without a bird, a bird without wings, wings
without love, without love?

From your two hands I gather tenderness at night,
from your two hands I grant a smile to each star, from your two hands I bury my head on your breast, from your two hands I search for my prayer.

I draw halos around you, as if you are the foe, as
if you are the Messiah. If you were alone, I tell you, I would
prostrate myself you you. If just ten, I would hide you in my lungs.
Since you are a thousand, I shall give you to drink from my blood. Your wound grows and grows.
it slits my throat from vein to vein. I put sand in your
wound. I put your wound in a giant, and around myself I
light the fire.

Who are you, that I should love you in the space I love you, in
the wound?
The stones are whispering:
There is no myth save in a wrestling goddess, a moon fragmenting. The statues are countless, beyond all computation. The poison is a single dose placed in a cup.
I pluck suns from between your eyes, I pluck thorns

-Orbits, be scattered beyond time, beyond weapons, beyond vipers, Be in harmony with the strength of gods, with mercy like the gods, with optimism like the gods, Upon the trackless sand each teardrop has a garden, the birds a small handful of honey.

Here am I bending down to drink and I lose my memory.

I have not let my face leap like a bat, I have not kicked my foot, I did not move like phantoms over the rooftops, I did not steal the sea's wings,I did not break glass over a breast, I have not withdrawn into despair, I did not go mad in gathering honey,

I did not go mad, I did not go mad, I did not go mad.

No need for the flanks of suffering, for my armor

A ship carries us to the end of the world.
Rivers push us seaward. A destiny in which I dress. Nets by which I am woven. Statues I destroy. A debt I pay. Flocks of birds.

A disaster. An earthquake. Travel. Return.

Return. Return. Return.

Forgive me O Lord!

a shore gathering pearls, a white horse enfolding me and taking wing, a bird that immolates me as I am warmed by its eyes, eyes in which I pray and weep, my ribs that are translucent, trees of emerald, the rose of compassion above unity,the dissension of daybreak's crown, the willfulness of nightly grandeur,the sanctity of pain, roses raining down,

him, him, him

I grasp the wave and I tumble

A divine vigilance in my eyes?

I leave at your door the burnt moments of time, the sunset, the harvest of error, and endless slipping, the grasp of truth, ingots of gold, faces of those who have died, faces of those who will die, footsteps of the prophets, shadows of the priests, the thinness of words, the misfortuneof the world, the secrets of the fields,

my love for you, your hatred for me,
and the white lilies
and the white lilies.

I grasp the wave and I tumble...
I remember I was a point, I was a circle.

I Remember I was a Point, I was a Circle, Hoda Al-Namani
partially translated from the Arabic by Tim Mitchell

(The full poem was not reprinted here - because of the layout of the blog, the poem may not be layed out properly either. If you can find it online, I highly recommend reading the entire poem. It's a favorite.)

Thursday, October 21, 2010

"You make a living by what you get, but you make a life by what you give."

-Winston Churchill

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Energy is Back

I seem to be getting my old energy back. (The level I had before I met J and before this last 6 mos of caretaking.) I've been doing all sorts of things that I enjoy and expanding into new areas. I have even have increased my brisk 45 min walk that I often didn't finish (or wasn't brisk) to include some running, which feels good. I am back to my kundalini yoga and a lot of other activities that only seem in increase my stamina and energy. I am finally excited about life again and so grateful to be divorced. I only wish I had done it sooner.

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

would you harbor me?


I would harbor you sister/even when the feds are after our very essence/harbor you in the mist of the southern willow trees/ the unknowing/among the moon lit daybreak/ while they search and I howl at the midnight sun as we move through time together.

I would harbor you sister despite race class religion or politics/I would harbor you knowing we are all one; in spite of those who wish to tear apart our union, our houses, our countries, even our very bodies/I would harbor your face, your curves, your breasts, your womb, your children, your thoughts, your dreams, your love. I would harbor you like my own daughter, mother, sister/ I would harbor you through war, debt, death and destruction/ I would harbor you through beatings, disease, love, hate, breakups, weddings, funerals, longing, heartache and return.

I would harbor you sister/ just and virgin as things are to be/sick and shut in, seeking to shut out/trying to be tough/I will break you in one breath/converting myself to O2/ clouding your room with confirmation/I would bring you hand squeezed juices, raw food, hot elixir, menthol salve and my granny’s quilt/ with bowl of water under bed, amethyst aroundyou/breathing in nag champa/faint smells of lavender I wear between/I watch/ you sleep/like a mother that protects her eggs as you dream/waiting in turn like double dutch to jump in… to get uncle, stranger, daddy, teacher, preacher off you/sister I will harbor you as we discuss the unfortunates and I will always ask if you are ok.

I would harbor you from your own sons, wrecked by their fathers’ violence/I would hide your daughters and granddaughters in my own breast/ I would put them back in my womb if I had to, until they are ready for this world.

I would harbor you sister/even when you look strong/but turning into stone in your weakest moments/weep/grieve/rejoice the love with you/provide a safe haven for your wounds/call the healer to touch you/ask her to keep it quiet in the darkness of the night/burn sage/light candles/breathe and pray for you/ask for forgiveness for us/ even in the midst of your anger/madness/sadness/when folks say it’s way too much/just suck it up/shut it up/ I listen.

I would harbor you from grief and depression/ I would remind you of your smile and our laughter, of better days behind/ahead/and right now/I would hide you from your own self-criticism and shame.

Sistren I would harbor you in the healing crevices of the Goddesses soul/Take your hand, carefully guiding you through distant lands/The salve of my words rebirth you a reminder your essence is whole/You are freedom, you are love…no more guilt or shame/LOVE is your birthright, to explore this land/LOVE is in your DNA makeup which spells your name/I labor not in vain for I share my truth and the life born of my seed/Sistren I would harbor you/in covenant/ for you I bleed….


I would harbor you sister/even when draught purges this earth /harbor you in the midst of dried wheat fields/ dancing, sacrificing, chanting for the rain with sweat and tears popping the ground/ Pulling up dried beet root plant/ peeling back the stems/ showing you/ the encouraging green life.

I would harbor your tears/use the salt to make us a feast for dinner/dance joyfully to the sound track of our lives/drink wine/break glasses and whisper in your ear to let you know you are not alone. I would harbor you in my wisdom/carry you in the bosom of my experience and pains/ guide you through the pit falls of life’s mind field/ like a girl scout/ Mother Theresa/ Sojourner Truth/ Joan Arch/ Harriet Tubman, I will lead you to safety

I would harbor you in your last days when others desert you in your own rancid shit and make you wait for paradise/I would hand you back the keys to your own life and let you float away in peace and freedom.


I would harbor you sister/ even when they come knocking/ papers & guns drawn/ smelling of blood/looking for that escaped/ goat /I will stand there/blanked face/answering no questions while you jumped from roof top to roof top / dodging through alley ways/getting the pumping fist while passing the onlookers/then meet you at the gates with the doors open to a new passage way for life.

I would harbor your temple in my mosque and your synagogue in my church/I would light a candle, say a prayer and speak in tongues of fire/I would hide your unreligious soul in my own backpack on the journey towards wholeness/I would ask the goddess to please forgive us for not calling first.

I would harbor you just as it is my rite to/we are all we have/I would harbor you when your heart is filled with fear of the new, questioned by the past/as you lay awake aching for me/I would harbor you as you strike my name against the electric air we make/ as we overcome the past while painting the future on these perspiring windows.

I would harbor you sister/even when the passion burns at the touch/with sweat rolling down our butts/seeing vision dancing at the thought of us/the embrace/the saving face/the trials/the grace/the trousers unzipped all the way/you swollen to the touch/unconcerned at what might be discovered/whispering soft moans of pleasure/laughter reverberating out into the night/knowing smiles/nervous/unsure and full of something.

I would harbor you sister/even when they call you he and you a she/or you a he but now a she/our clothes blinds us to reality/just call me/let it ring three times then I’ll know, I’ll answer.

I would harbor you; would you harbor me?

- written collectively by Poet On Watch, Nubian Sun, Trista Hendren and Irradiance Theinfinitefemme

Monday, October 18, 2010

As I Lay

As I lay here in the dark night my eyes I can not shut..
I'm aching with not so sweet pain for my lovers touch; sadly I stray.
I fear my loneliness not to know it's end...fear for my heart to fail. I'm hurting from his given pain...willing to let my pride die in vain.. willing with his smooth touch let my sorrow fade away and with his body my body peacefully lie.. In the night
I can't wait to smile again...I can't wait for my heart to sing his song...I'm yearning deeply for that pleasant face to show me his happiness for our love again.
What is life...but a test of faith? What is love..but a painful ache?
My life with him is my faith constantly testing...and with his love the aches never ending.

When you are un well...You tell me how miserable I make show me the mistakes I do. You let me see my imperfections as if yours are not so noticeable too.
I wish that one day when you are feeling fine..and your heart swimming in my exotic would keep it there and let it that we can both get lost in each Devine. I'm yearning for that night...of pure passion and innocence of love in dim light. Yearning for the night that would let all hurtful words get lost.
Yearning for our love to fade away the distance...Waiting here I am in the dark night.

-Lida Ajami

Sunday, October 17, 2010

Love is not something to be used

You may hide emptiness under the word "love," but when the object of your love is no longer there or does not respond, then you are aware of emptiness, you are frustrated.

We use the word "love" as a means of escaping from ourselves, from our own insufficiency. We cling to the one we love, we are jealous, we miss him when he is not there and are utterly lost when he dies; and then we seek comfort in some other form, in some belief, in some substitute.

Is all this love?

Love is not an idea, the result of association; love is not something to be used as an escape from our own wretchedness and when we do so use it, we make problems which have no solutions.

- jk - Commentaries on Living Series I Chapter 42 Loneliness

Friday, October 15, 2010

Still I Rise

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops,
Weakened by my soulful cries?

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own backyard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.

Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

- Maya Angelou

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

The Scorpion and the Frog

I am very angry tonight with my ex and have been since this afternoon. I am too exhausted from crying to even write everything (or anything) that transpired. I decided to look back to the beginning of this blog, which gave me a lot of perspective.

After reading many of the old posts, it made me realize it probably doesn't even really matter what transpired. It is just more of the same shit that has been going on for over 8 years.

I think, deep down, I have still been hoping that my ex will change at some level. That we can at least be friends. That he can be a better person.

I happened to see this and it was a reminder that he will always be him.

There once lived a scorpion and a frog.

The scorpion wanted to cross the pond, but being a scorpion, he couldn't swim. So he scuttled up to the frog and asked: "Please, Mr Frog, can you carry me across the pond on your back?"

"I would," replied the frog, "but, under the circumstances, I must refuse. You might sting me as I swim across."

"But why would I do that?" asked the scorpion. "It is not not in my interests to sting you, because you will die and then I will drown."

Although the frog knew how lethal scorpions were, the logic proved quite persuasive. Perhaps, felt the frog, in this one instance the scorpion would keep his tail in check.

So the frog agreed. The scorpion climbed on his back, and together they set off across the pond. Just as they reached the middle of the pond, the scorpion twitched his tail and stung the frog.

Mortally wounded, the frog cried out: "Why did you sting me? It is not in your interests to sting me, because now I will die and you will drown."

"I know," replied the scorpion as he sank into the pond. "But I am a scorpion. I have to sting you. It's in my nature."

The wisdom behind this story is: People don't change that much. So don't waste time trying to put in what was left out. Try to draw out what was left in. That is hard enough.

Tuesday, October 12, 2010


I feel so sad and so lost today.

I expected to feel relieved when she finally died after so many days of dragging things out. But instead I feel like I don't know what to do with myself.

I thought this would be a new beginning and I could move on to something else in my life besides caretaking, but I don't have a desire to do anything else now.

I forgot my checkbook and had to come home. A friend had sent a dozen beautiful white roses, which was really a lovely surprise. I don't know how he managed to ship them here overnight from out of town when I didn't even find out she had passed until after 5, but he did, and it means a lot.

For the Dying

May death come gently towards you,
Leaving you time to make your way
Through the cold embrace of fear
To the place of inner tranquility.

May death arrive only after a long life
To find you at home among your own
With every comfort and care you require.

May your leave-taking be gracious,
Enabling you to hold dignity
Through awkwardness and illness.

May you see the reflection
Of your life's kindness and beauty
In all the tears that fall for you.

As your eyes focus on each face,
May your soul take its imprint
Drawing each image within
As companions for the journey.

May you find for each one you love
A different locket of jewelled words
To be worn around the heart
To warm your absence.

May someone who knows and loves
The complex village of your heart
Be there to echo you back to yourself
And create a sure word-raft
To carry you to the further shore.

May your spirit feel
The surge of true delight
When the veil of the visible
Is raised, and you glimpse again
The living faces
Of departed family and friends.

May there be some beautiful surprise
Waiting for you inside death,
Something you never knew or felt,
Which with one simple touch
Absolves you of all loneliness and loss,
As you quicken within the embrace
For which your soul was eternally made.

May your heart be speechless
At the sight of the truth
Of all your belief had hoped,
Your heart breathless
In the light and lightness
Where each and every thing
Is at last its true self
Within that serene belonging
That dwells beside us
On the other side
Of what we see.

For the Dying
by John O'Donohue

(from the book 'Benedictus: A book of Blessings')

Monday, October 11, 2010

Nana Died

Nana passed away early this evening surrounded throughout the day, and the last months, by her family. The cancer took over her entire body.

It seems much to early to be the end of her life. She was a young grandma. She had 5 children by the time she was 22. I was born when she was only 36. It seems crazy to think of myself being a grandma now, at this age.

She was an unconventional, but loving grandma. She was always reading when I was young, and I remember that the first book she gave me as a kid (at least that I remember) was Dr. Wayne Dyer's Your Erroneous Zones. I think I read it twice, and I had to have been about 12-years-old. The biggest thing it helped me with growing up as a born-again Christian was guilt. I recently saw it and read it again.

There were so many things like that with her - quiet nudges to prevent us from living painful lives.

She was always beautiful and very smart. I remember hearing my sister Andee's boyfriend, who is in his twenties, remark recently that she was a "damned sexy lady." It was always like that with her.

She taught me a lot about owning my own sexuality as a woman, and never letting society's double standards take hold over me. There was never any nonsense with her, about anything. She never beat around the bush, and I appreciated that about her. That being said, she did not have an unkind bone in her body. I never saw her do anything malicious or mean. If she didn't like something or someone, she was direct about it.

She didn't just praise you just because you were hers - if she did give praise it was sincere and measured. I started making my own body-oils a few years ago, and made a special batch for her for Mother's Day last year. She asked me about the ingredients and such and then just said, "Humph!". A week later she called to tell me that she had put mine on one arm and hers on the other for a week to test which one was really better. She asked her manicurist and a few other people. She was very excited and proud to tell me mine really was better!

What I will miss most about Nana is to be able to call her with any cooking question. Neither one of us liked to talk on the phone, but that was one thing we really connected on. She knew the answer to everything. She saved many recipes for me.

A few months ago, I had sat out in the sun for too long and then proceeded to try to make 2 new (and very complicated) appetizers for my friend Bill's birthday party. I was so ditsy she asked me, Are you drunk? We laughed for a good long time about that and I told her that I had not only sat out too long but then proceeded to cut up and empty out 20 jalapeno peppers with my bare hands and every part of me seemed to be on fire. She always had the answer for everything - and both recipes turned out great.

She was never very emotional or a smothering grandma, but she always made sure you knew how much she loved you. The last months we were together, we almost always sat out on her back deck, until the very end. She always hugged me and told me she really loved me. She and my uncle were almost always laughing, even when things were pretty bad for her.

She often surprised me with her thoughtfulness, whether it was calling to check on how a recipe had turned out or worrying about our dog getting trimmed after she became ill.

She loved all of her children so very much, and that was really what stuck out to me the most in our last visits together. She was always so concerned about everyone else. When I showed her a wig I had worn at a recent party, she told me she had a perfect bag to go with it and told me to go and get it so I could use it for my Halloween costume.

She, like my other grandparents, always came to all my parties I threw throughout my 20's and 30's - and there were some crazy ones! She would always join right in and drink whatever we were drinking.

She taught me a lot about taking care of myself and getting lots of exercise. She was moderate in everything and so self-sufficient. She believed you had to find your own happiness, and she found hers just being at home, whether cooking or working in her beautiful yard. She was steadfastly not religious and I do not believe she ever feared death. The last few days she talked about going to a better place to be with her brother. She never doubted her right to exist in heaven, and neither did I.

We talked many, many times about my marriage and my life. There were a lot of things we related very well on there. She never told me what to do, but her own life served as an answer for me on many things. In many ways, she had a hard life. But she always seemed content. I will miss her so very much.

I have always felt, when times were hard, that at least I had my family, who is so very dear to me. My grandparents in particular have always been a rock for me. Although Nano and Pappa are gone now, I often forget that they are not here. I still feel them very much around me and inside me, and they still buoy me when I would otherwise sink.

I hope that, in time, I will feel this way about Nana too. For now, there is just emptiness and great sadness.

It seems fitting to end with this quote from the book she gave me 23 years ago. It was something that I completely forgot and that I hope to finally learn. She seemed to know it so well.

"If the world were so organized that everything had to be fair, no living creature could survive for a day. The birds would be forbidden to eat worms, and everyone's self interest would have to be served."

I hope Nana is happy and at peace, hopefully eating well in a beautiful garden.

Lesson Learned

My ex called me today while I was picking up my son. It had been an exhausting day by my grandmas bed.

My aunt went nuts and decided to call hospice and say that she thinks my uncle will try to assist my grandma in suicide. So now, they are really watching him.

I had to go through and document and destroy all the meds with the nurse. She had to have me sign that I had witnessed this and helped her dispose of everything and put it all in coffee grounds. We had to account for everything.

She can't swallow anymore so these are all things she can not use anymore. Usually they don't do this until someone dies, but since my aunt called, she thought we should do it then while we were both there.

I could not believe my aunt did this to my uncle.

He's been there 24-7 for weeks, if not months, and today is probably the last day. He broke down several times. My uncle looks like the Brawny Man, and apart from when his dog died, I don't remember ever seeing him cry.

I had to sit there and defend him and remind everyone that the bottom line was she didn't want to be like this and she wanted to die over a week ago.

After she left, I looked at the sexy Glamour Shot of her on the wall and thought, that wasn’t so long ago. You would never know she was the same person, laying there, completely unaware, bald, with her mouth wide open, gargling.

It is one of the worst things I have ever witnessed to see my Nana like this. It's not like my other grandparents, who were in their nineties. She still had life yet.

I had sent our Associate Pastor a picture of her several weeks ago, with her hat to cover her baldness. (She did not want any religious visits, but the women in my church have been continually praying for her.) Then I realized that it did not really show her who she was praying for, so I sent another one of her from a few years ago. She thanked me and said it helped her really recognize our loss.

So there were three people in that room with me - the beautiful grandma I have grown up with, the warrior cancer patient who rose to the occasion, and the corpse lying there half-dead.

I tried to sing every comforting, non-religious song I could think of and pulled up the “For the Dying” poem which my sister had read to my other grandma just prior to her passing. I kept thinking it would be anytime, but she did not pass in my presense.

By the time my ex called, I wasn't in the mood to hear what he had the nerve to say to me.

He said he knows just what I'm going through because he's done this before. He seems to completely forget that I've known him nearly 10 years and I know he's never done this.

I wanted to tell him he was full of shit and had nothing to compare this to, but I sucked in my breathe.

I sent a text to my sister venting, or so I thought. I sent it to him instead.

"Really funny!! HaHa I have watched many people that I love die from cancer in the last 10 years! Maybe, you should call whoever you sent that to next time you need any help?!"

I told him I didn’t want to get into it with him and that I was sorry I sent it to him. I told him, “You have not been a caregiver day after day for weeks or months. So I don't think you have any idea what I am going through.”

His response: Fuck you!

So next time, I will not hold back. I will speak my mind.

And here is some of what is on my mind.

When my grandpa was dying of cancer, 3 years ago, he was no where to be found. It was a terrible and difficult time and he made it 50 times worse by being a complete prick.

It is harder now for me to lose this grandma like this, because she is so damned young and I blame the alcoholics in her life for shortening her life.

One of the biggest reasons I finally left him is because she never had that option for herself, and she told me that many times.

Even though this is a harder death to deal with on that level, it is easier being a single woman without the support of a "husband" than it was to have a supposed husband who was so completely non-supportive of that loss.

I am stronger now, because I have to be.

While he may have visited his aunt or his grandpa a few times during their illness, he never cared for them. Not one day. And with all the money that family has, the way his aunt died in particular is completely disgraceful.

While my family may have its issues, we don't leave our own to die alone.

One of the reasons I think my grandma died so young is that continual sucking in that I just did this afternoon.

I really don't want to ever do that again.


"Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all barriers within yourself that you have built against it."


Sunday, October 10, 2010

Being a desert in oneself

Being nothing, being a desert in oneself, one hopes through another to find water.

Being empty, poor, wretched, insufficient, devoid of interest or importance, one hopes through another to be enriched. Through the love of another one hopes to forget oneself. Through the beauty of another one hopes to acquire beauty. Through the family, through the nation, through the lover, through some fantastic belief, one hopes to cover this desert with flowers. And God is the ultimate lover.

So one puts hooks into all these things. In this there is pain and uncertainty, and the desert seems more arid than ever before.

Of course it is neither more nor less arid; it is what it was, only one has avoided looking at it while escaping through some form of attachment with its pain, and then escaping from that pain into detachment.

But one remains arid and empty as before.

So instead of trying to escape, either through attachment or through detachment, can we not become aware of this fact, of this deep inward poverty and inadequacy, this dull, hollow isolation? That is the only thing that matters, not attachment or detachment.

Can you look at it without any sense of condemnation or evaluation? When you do, are you looking at it as an observer who looks at the observed, or without the observer?

- jk, The Urgency of Change

Saturday, October 9, 2010

Long Hard Road

There's a long hard road ahead
But a voice inside me said
You know there's something that you need to know
It's gonna be alright
Said there's something that you need to know
It's gonna be alright

And when in this life, in this life
When I can only turn my chin
I know it's gonna be alright
When this big old town is closing in
And I have lost again here

I could stay but I'll keep moving on
Here I could stay but I'll keep moving on
Could be I won't be wrong

There's a long hard road ahead
But a voice inside me said
Said there's something that you need to know

It's gonna be alright
Said there's something that you need to know
It's gonna be alright

Friday, October 8, 2010

Remember Pain

Remember pain. You pain is your key to freedom...and when we speak, the pain dissolves into a river of tears where it belongs.


Irritated at my own Co-Dependency

I am irritated with myself this morning. My house is a mess, my weight is slightly up and my body hurts everywhere.

I started cleaning up yesterday and found several things that should have been dealt with weeks ago, if not months ago. Birthday invites, information for teachers, things that just should have been filed away. I went through each thing and took care of it, little by little, making amends where I needed to.

I have not been doing my Kundalini Yoga, which really helps me with so many things. I started doing some of the moves and promised myself I would get to the video when my ex-husband has the kids this weekend. My body has not felt like this for a long time. I've gone back to taking way too many Excedrin's as a way of powering through my day instead of resting or stretching when I need to.

It's a familiar feeling, but one I don't want to go back to as my "normal." Feeling bad was my "normal" for so damned long.

I have not been eating remotely right. I have mostly been eating ice cream and Popsicles because I just don't feel like eating anything else. My stomach is bloated, as this obviously is not a good food choice for me. I am starting to crave salads and vegetables now, so I will go to the store and get some better options (no ice cream!).

I am struggling between wanting to change and not be so codependent and thinking that we are essentially who we are. Perhaps I will always be this way, but I am getting better at taking care of myself and at least realizing when I go down the dark tunnel again.

It seems to be a fine line between being compassionate and wanting to help and going completely overboard and neglecting myself and my own responsibilities.

Thursday, October 7, 2010


I just came from my grandmother's house. She is really out of it now. It is so sad to see her this way. It is good she had some extra meat on her bones to begin with because she is really skinny now.

Her brain is nearly gone. She got confused and told my mom she needed to leave. My mom ran out, and we all knew she was upset. I had been there for about an hour before that, so I knew that she was just completely out of it. I asked her if she wanted me to leave too and she said yes. Then she realized what she had done and they asked me to run back out and get my mom. She had already left.

The Social Worker helped me give her a bath. She perked up then, but it was humiliating for her when we washed her private parts and she started to cry. She broke my heart.

I was glad to have someone there helping me. She was very kind and it didn't seem as hard as it had with my other grandma when I had to do it alone. She kept things light. I will not let myself break down with my grandma again.

My grandma did not want hospice there again today and she has said that several times now. As it turns out, it is a profit thing. My uncle had reiterated to one hospice worker yesterday that she didn't want everyone there and the woman snapped back that he had to let them come because if they didn't come, they wouldn't get paid.

I have learned a lot about our system of dying in the last 3 years. This is the third grandparent to use hospice. There is a lot I would change.

It is too late now for any of the so-called assisted suicide to help us as my grandma had wanted. There is a 15-day waiting period and she will not make it 15 days. She just has to suffer until her death. All we can do is make her as comfortable as she can be.

I was so grateful to my uncle today for being there. Life is so complicated. People are so multi-faceted. I know that my uncle is the only one who could care for my grandma the way she needs to be cared for. She needs someone quick, competent and most of all, someone who will not baby her. She is such a strong and proud woman.

In one way, he's my hero - and certainly hers. In another way, he has traumatized my aunt and my mother and they have felt abused by him.

It's hard for me not to see him as a hero though. He has always been my favorite uncle, and I love him so much.

My grandma said again that her biggest fear is that all her kids will start to fight when she's gone. I told her they wouldn't but I suppose we both know the reality.

Last night, our Associate Pastor called me and asked if she could stop by with her boyfriend. She is a beautiful woman in her seventies who has connected with a childhood friend. They are both just gorgeous people - they shine. They give me a lot of hope about finding a partner one day. They are so happy with each other.

She brought her gong and tried do do some relaxation for me. The kids got a little too excited though so it ended up being more about them hitting the gong. She also brought a beautiful white prayer shawl that she had made for me with the ladies at church. They all signed a card to give me encouragement.

I feel bolstered by all the prayers and love. The women at church are so special to me because I know how close many of them were with my grandma.

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

Distorted Vision

I realized the other day that I do not see people clearly, especially in my family. I have a very distorted view based on what I want to see. There is a quote from Anais Nin that says we don't see people as they are. We see them as we are.

My cousin had told me that my uncle had told his mother that he would kill her and cut her up in little pieces and bury her in the backyard and no one would ever find her. I shrugged this off as exaggeration. How you could exaggerate that I don't know. That was a month ago and he didn't contact me much in-between. I knew he was upset with me but I sided squarely with my uncle.

It bothered me the other day when I joined in on a collective poem with several other feminists based on the premise "would you harbor me?". I thought of all the ways I have sided with abusive men in my life because I saw them as I wanted them to be.

My aunt and mother had taken me aside in my grandmas kitchen the other day after my mom had told me privately she felt like my uncles' abused wife. They repeated the story and it hit me that it was probably true. I say probably because I still just can't fathom my uncle saying this. I still see him as a little girl, even though I remember clearly as a little girl walking in on him and seeing his friends injecting drugs into their arms.

It hit me that when my sister told my mom about my step dad she could not fathom it either. This was a huge disappointment I had with my mom that stood in the way of a relationship between us for a very long time. There is so little backing of the women in my family. I have not felt harbored and I imagine no one else has either.

There is also a part of me that realizes that my uncle has been a protector of me all these years. I have always known that if someone (a man) messed with me, he would, if nothing else, scare them. This gave me a feeling of confidence. But it also came at a price. I never take my uncle to task for anything, even when there were times that I knew he was wrong, and I would usually say something if it were someone else.

I have been silent.

I have also chosen not to recognize the words and feelings of the other women in my family.

I hope that I will begin to at least listen with an open heart. I hope I will begin to see people as they are, for what they are, because that is part of being honest where I have failed myself.

And more than anything else, I don't want to fail my daughter.

I would harbor you sister

I would harbor you sister/even when the feds are after our very essence/harbor you in the mist of the southern willow trees/ the unknowing/among the moon lit daybreak/ while they search and I howl at the midnight sun as we move through time together.

-Poet on Watch

Tuesday, October 5, 2010


I had a thought the other day about dying and our inability to deal with aging.

When we put our elderly away, not only do we deprive them of the life and family they deserve, but we deprive ourselves.

I started to think of the grandparents I have cared for in the last 3 years prior to their death. It has been extremely hard in many ways. But one thing that I realized is that I do not fear death or aging the way that many people do.

I have seen things that I would have never thought I could have dealt with - not only seen them, but taken care of them with love and compassion. There were times when I gagged or felt ill at ease, but for the most part, I saw it as an act of caretaking that I was proud to do. These small acts brought me closer to them, and had I not cared for them, we never would have had many of the moments that we did have.

When we care for our elders, not only do we grow in our relationship and intimacy with them, we see ourselves in them and we learn to accept our own death and our own aging. We see the big picture, and we are all better for it.

I feel very worn. I know these last years have aged me and taken a toll on me. But I would not trade them for anything. Of all the things I have done in my life, this was the best thing, and the most important thing - besides raising my children.

My Mother

I must be worth my life
At the hour of my death
Worth the tears of my mother

- the late Palestinian poet Mahmoud Darwish

Monday, October 4, 2010

Worst Day

Yesterday had to be one of the worst days of my life.

We skipped church because we all had the beginnigs of colds. The morning was peaceful, just hanging out with the kids and doing not much of anything. I made the kids waffles, and actually ate one myself, which I rarely do anymore. It was really good.

My uncle called early afternoon and told me to get over as soon as I could. He said to to bring the letters and copy of the new will I had helped my grandma with over the last few weeks. He said she was done and intended to have hospice come in the next hour to assist with death.

I rushed over after calling my ex in tears and asking him to meet us over there.

I arrived to see nearly all my aunts and uncles there and my grandma calling other relatives in tears telling them goodbye.

Hospice arrived within 20 minutes of my arrival and we were told that nothing would happen until the next day. My grandma started bawling and said she couldn't live like this anymore and said she would just get the shotgun or jump off a bridge.

A counselor was brought over and the timeframe went to one week and then to 15 days. My grandma explained that she didn't want to keep shitting all over herself and she could no longer do anything that she enjoyed or that made her life worthwhile. It was terrible to see this strong woman reduced to tears and begging.

Meanwhile my aunt and uncle went into the other room to count all the cash money she had saved up all these years, which was more than I would have thought. They divided it by 5 for each of her children, and later by 6 to include her long time boyfriend who she had earlier written out of the will. Everyone was approaching me privately and I left feeling that nearly everyone was conning me in their own way.

It was a terrible feeling. I wish I had never gotten involved in the will or anything else. I don't know what else I could have done different, because I would not have said no to my grandma if she asked me to do anything. Nonetheless, I have gotten away from most of the drama in my life and returning to that spot felt really uncomfortable and terrible.

I laid with my grandma in her bed for the last hour before I left. I was crying softely and she noticed. She told me that I would be ok and that I would find a nice man who would love me and my kids. I realized in that moment that she had full confidence in me and she didn't have the worry for me she did with many of her kids. It was a very empowering moment. She didn't leave me with money. She left me with her full trust and confidence in me. That is a greater gift.

I am very angry that she is not able to leave her life with dignity as she had planned. The morals of our coutry make no sense to me. We have no problem taking the lives of people around the world who are not ready to leave their life or their family. But when one of our own is suffering and ready to go, we suddenly have morals and they have to wait an arbitrary 15 days.

15 days of additional profit is what it amounts to. Everything in life, seems to come back to money.