My dear friends;
Some of you have heard of my change of religious path. Some are troubled, others are confused, and some of you don't care one way or the other. This letter is mainly for those of you who are troubled or confused. Virtually all of you are aware of my deep spiritual life, it goes with out saying that I draw a great deal of comfort and guidance from this part of my life.
A little over a year ago, close to a year and a half, I began to seriously become involved with Catholicism. Some of you voiced deep concern that I was throwing myself blindly into this. Even today, there are those concerns flying about, though few of you voice them. Let me tell you why I am doing this and what it brings to me.
1. The Church has brought me a larger sense of community that I have yearned for for a long time. Many of you know that I frequently lamented how I felt so isolated and out of sorts due to the rather solitary nature of the Craft.
2. I am finding validation for what I have experienced in the Church's mystical traditions. Alot more validtaiton then I've found in the Craft.
3. As I grow and learn more along this path, I find myself feeling a deeper connection to God, that amorpheous, un-nameable sanctity that is at the heart of all things. It is a connection that I've felt as a need for a very long time. The stronger that connection becomes, the more whole I am and the greater the peace in my heart has become.
4. Unlike what many of you may suspect, I do not feel the need of an intermediary between myself and God. What I do need is a community to support me and the unique relationship that has come to me thru Christ. It is not this slavish adoration, nor is it this holy roller thing that so many people seem to express. I've come to understand that Christ is god and yet a man at the same time. For me it wasn't that big of a logical leap, thank paganisim for that one. ;) And my relationship with the god part of him, it is the same simple adoration that I held for the gods as a witch. that just plain love that people looked at me as weird for, that's all it is. and the relationship with the man, it's growing in it's own way. But it is something that i'm not ready to discuss with the whole world.
You could say that I'm being courted, in a spiritual sense. Not being coy or anything, just keeping the private affair private.
I don't know if it helps any in making my choices clearer. I kinda didn't have as much time to spend on this as I'd have liked to.
never enough time in the day!
roses
Sunday, August 21, 2005
Alzheimers....
There's a disease that scares the living daylights out of me.
A few friends of mine have family members they are caring for that are suffering with this, amoung other disorsders that pop up when you get into your "golden" years.
My great-grandmothers figured rather strongly in my early years. Why, gentle reader, does this play into my comments this evening? Well, one, possibly both, lost their marbles due to that disease. It was horrible and painful to watch as these women, one of whome I absolutely adored, go from being themselves to this shell of a person. As I got older, I did help some in caring for them.
That was some of the hardest work I ever have done in my life thus far. It's making me dread not only when we go through that dance again but when I get into those years. I've been keeping a journal with the hope that when I am an old woman I have some vestiages of my memories around. A part of me wonders, will it hurt to have parts of my brain destroy themselves? will i know that I'm going crazy? Will i know that i'm tormenting my family. unable to control it? Or, will I not even realize it, thinking I'm fine?
It's scary, because it looks like the last possibility is the one that's going to happen. the more people with diseases like alzheimers that I see, the more I see that they don't think they have a problem. The malice that is apparent, it's just a fit. The violence, it's just the insanity.... The core of their being, the personality, is regressing back to a child. Flashes of lucidity and adulthood become increasingly rare until you have a toddler trapped in an adults body. In some situations, that body is frail. In others it possesses a wiry strength.
Sorrowfully, these people .. these poor tortured people have some sense that something is wrong. And they'll flail with dispair, rage at the people around them, or try to slink into the dark night. And we, the living, the ones who love them, are tormented with them. Because we watch them fade away before our eyes and are helpless to resist or help them to resist.
May God have mercy on us all.
Kirye Elison
A few friends of mine have family members they are caring for that are suffering with this, amoung other disorsders that pop up when you get into your "golden" years.
My great-grandmothers figured rather strongly in my early years. Why, gentle reader, does this play into my comments this evening? Well, one, possibly both, lost their marbles due to that disease. It was horrible and painful to watch as these women, one of whome I absolutely adored, go from being themselves to this shell of a person. As I got older, I did help some in caring for them.
That was some of the hardest work I ever have done in my life thus far. It's making me dread not only when we go through that dance again but when I get into those years. I've been keeping a journal with the hope that when I am an old woman I have some vestiages of my memories around. A part of me wonders, will it hurt to have parts of my brain destroy themselves? will i know that I'm going crazy? Will i know that i'm tormenting my family. unable to control it? Or, will I not even realize it, thinking I'm fine?
It's scary, because it looks like the last possibility is the one that's going to happen. the more people with diseases like alzheimers that I see, the more I see that they don't think they have a problem. The malice that is apparent, it's just a fit. The violence, it's just the insanity.... The core of their being, the personality, is regressing back to a child. Flashes of lucidity and adulthood become increasingly rare until you have a toddler trapped in an adults body. In some situations, that body is frail. In others it possesses a wiry strength.
Sorrowfully, these people .. these poor tortured people have some sense that something is wrong. And they'll flail with dispair, rage at the people around them, or try to slink into the dark night. And we, the living, the ones who love them, are tormented with them. Because we watch them fade away before our eyes and are helpless to resist or help them to resist.
May God have mercy on us all.
Kirye Elison
Friday, August 19, 2005
One other note: Dishes
I'm sure the other hens out there can relate to this one.
Trying to get hubby to do dishes is just this side of impossible. I love him dearly, but I think I'd have to hog tie him and drag him into the kitchen, after detonating a bomb in his computer to get him to do dishes. Essentially, threaten some kind of misery... it's *so* ironic in that odd sense of the Alanis Morrisset song.
Before we got hitched, I had to chase him out of the kitchen if I wanted to do dishes.
Ah well, I didn't marry him because he did dishes. And hey, he does do laundry, didn't touch that before we got married... so I guess it's a trade off.
Trying to get hubby to do dishes is just this side of impossible. I love him dearly, but I think I'd have to hog tie him and drag him into the kitchen, after detonating a bomb in his computer to get him to do dishes. Essentially, threaten some kind of misery... it's *so* ironic in that odd sense of the Alanis Morrisset song.
Before we got hitched, I had to chase him out of the kitchen if I wanted to do dishes.
Ah well, I didn't marry him because he did dishes. And hey, he does do laundry, didn't touch that before we got married... so I guess it's a trade off.
Angst of writing!
I can summarize this with one expression: ARRGGGH!!!
C.S. Lewis is reputed to have said once that the craft of writing is like staring at a a peice of paper until beads of blood form on your forehead and then staring some more until you can actually put something down on paper.
Ain't that the horrible truth? I've stacks of half started, nightmarishly unedited, and bizzarely fragmented peices scattered about the apartment. I'm amazed that hubby hasn't killed me for it yet. Between my writing efforts and my needlepoint, I'm sure that half of the space available here is used up by lil' ol' me. All I can say is "when will the hurting stop?"
When you're trying to make a carreer out of writing and you get periods of writer's block that last for monts, what on earth do you do? I keep trying to write, but it feels like trying to fly when you're not a birt. Unnatural.
Ah well.. time to suffer some more... perhaps I will have something worth editing by the end of the night. Here's hoping. :p
C.S. Lewis is reputed to have said once that the craft of writing is like staring at a a peice of paper until beads of blood form on your forehead and then staring some more until you can actually put something down on paper.
Ain't that the horrible truth? I've stacks of half started, nightmarishly unedited, and bizzarely fragmented peices scattered about the apartment. I'm amazed that hubby hasn't killed me for it yet. Between my writing efforts and my needlepoint, I'm sure that half of the space available here is used up by lil' ol' me. All I can say is "when will the hurting stop?"
When you're trying to make a carreer out of writing and you get periods of writer's block that last for monts, what on earth do you do? I keep trying to write, but it feels like trying to fly when you're not a birt. Unnatural.
Ah well.. time to suffer some more... perhaps I will have something worth editing by the end of the night. Here's hoping. :p
Sunday, August 14, 2005
Yay! Hubby helped me out!
Last thought for the night before I turn this puppy off and go fold laundry.
My dear and darling husband is a wonderful man. He tolerates my ignorance about computers quite well, though I some times think that I amuse him in away. Maeby he's been with me because of the damsel in distress thing... hmm.....
Either way, my wonderful, computer literate, and exceedingly helpful husband made this blasted thing make the link to his blog show up. I still don't understand how he did it, but huzzah for him.
Hmm... maeby I can tempt him away from the computer tonight... no, judging from the full bore, mad clacking I hear from across the room, I've lost the battle yet again. There's alway tomorrow night though! :)
My dear and darling husband is a wonderful man. He tolerates my ignorance about computers quite well, though I some times think that I amuse him in away. Maeby he's been with me because of the damsel in distress thing... hmm.....
Either way, my wonderful, computer literate, and exceedingly helpful husband made this blasted thing make the link to his blog show up. I still don't understand how he did it, but huzzah for him.
Hmm... maeby I can tempt him away from the computer tonight... no, judging from the full bore, mad clacking I hear from across the room, I've lost the battle yet again. There's alway tomorrow night though! :)
Work Rant No. 1: Parents in denial
I work with children, I love it. Working in a day-care as an assistant teacher has proven to be some of the most challenging and most entertaining work I've done so far during my short time upon this earth.
It has also proven to be some of the most aggrivating at times. I know you would assume that it is the children that would aggrivate me, most people think that being in a room with (for example) 15 toddlers and only two other adults for support, that you're going to be trapped in some proverbial hell. Some days I do come home with a splitting headache, but it's not from the kids. They're loud, but kids are supposed to be loud. They don't know anything else, yet.
Parents, god love 'em. Some are wonderful, the real gems of humanity. They work, often working very hard, to make sure that their children have the best in the world. At times, this may require a parent to sacrifice time with their child for the sake of providing for him/her. This is why people like me have a job, I can't argue too much with this. It's when these wonderful parents are deliberately ignoring the reality of thier children's lives that I want to throttle them.
Case study no. 1: "My daughter *always* has a good day!"
Mother X is offended. She has read the daily report of how her daughter's day has been. On the note it states that her child had an "ok" day. The quote above is voiced quite loudly in my face, mother X on the verge of tears of anger. This sentiment is nice, but do you consider a good day to include upwards of 6 or 7 temper tantrums; fighting with other children; and crying for 10 to 15 min at a time for no apparent reason? Mind you, I had the courtsey not to state this to our troubled mother, gentle reader. This is but a question for you to consider.
Case study no. 2: "Oh, I don't know why you say that?"
Father Z responds to a note stating that his son has had a runny nose for the past week and now has a feaver. This little boy, a real charmer when his nose isn't a faucet of green goo, had been crying and holding his ear during and after nap time. On the note, we suggested a trip to the doctor. The father is bewildered, stating that he gave his son some cold medicine and he seemed alright. Gentle reader, I question if his father realized that his son was in the midst of an ear infection and sinus infection. It was the look of surprise when his son's nose was dripping and when we wiped it up, that made me wonder if he though that his son was playing sick the whole time.
And our third, and final Case study: "Oh, ok."
Mother Q ignores as her child proceeds to start a fight with another child right infront of her. Child Q is generally a pleasant little boy, except when he decides he wants to whomp on his associates. Then he shows that he's building up his upper body strength with some wicked haymakers for a 3 year old. I dart in, separate the children and mother Q looks at me with mild surprise. "Finish giving your teacher your hug, and we'll get chicken nuggets on the way home." She says, blithly ignoring how her little boy is kicking me in the shins as I set him down. Last I checked, the beating up of other children and kicking of adults wasn't socially acceptable behavior for a 3 year old in any part of the world... perhaps I am wrong.
It has also proven to be some of the most aggrivating at times. I know you would assume that it is the children that would aggrivate me, most people think that being in a room with (for example) 15 toddlers and only two other adults for support, that you're going to be trapped in some proverbial hell. Some days I do come home with a splitting headache, but it's not from the kids. They're loud, but kids are supposed to be loud. They don't know anything else, yet.
Parents, god love 'em. Some are wonderful, the real gems of humanity. They work, often working very hard, to make sure that their children have the best in the world. At times, this may require a parent to sacrifice time with their child for the sake of providing for him/her. This is why people like me have a job, I can't argue too much with this. It's when these wonderful parents are deliberately ignoring the reality of thier children's lives that I want to throttle them.
Case study no. 1: "My daughter *always* has a good day!"
Mother X is offended. She has read the daily report of how her daughter's day has been. On the note it states that her child had an "ok" day. The quote above is voiced quite loudly in my face, mother X on the verge of tears of anger. This sentiment is nice, but do you consider a good day to include upwards of 6 or 7 temper tantrums; fighting with other children; and crying for 10 to 15 min at a time for no apparent reason? Mind you, I had the courtsey not to state this to our troubled mother, gentle reader. This is but a question for you to consider.
Case study no. 2: "Oh, I don't know why you say that?"
Father Z responds to a note stating that his son has had a runny nose for the past week and now has a feaver. This little boy, a real charmer when his nose isn't a faucet of green goo, had been crying and holding his ear during and after nap time. On the note, we suggested a trip to the doctor. The father is bewildered, stating that he gave his son some cold medicine and he seemed alright. Gentle reader, I question if his father realized that his son was in the midst of an ear infection and sinus infection. It was the look of surprise when his son's nose was dripping and when we wiped it up, that made me wonder if he though that his son was playing sick the whole time.
And our third, and final Case study: "Oh, ok."
Mother Q ignores as her child proceeds to start a fight with another child right infront of her. Child Q is generally a pleasant little boy, except when he decides he wants to whomp on his associates. Then he shows that he's building up his upper body strength with some wicked haymakers for a 3 year old. I dart in, separate the children and mother Q looks at me with mild surprise. "Finish giving your teacher your hug, and we'll get chicken nuggets on the way home." She says, blithly ignoring how her little boy is kicking me in the shins as I set him down. Last I checked, the beating up of other children and kicking of adults wasn't socially acceptable behavior for a 3 year old in any part of the world... perhaps I am wrong.
"umm.. honey, how do I do this again?"
Hi folks!
As the title of this post may suggest, I am entirely new to blogging. Please forgive me for any errors or other mistakes that you may find in here. This is my first attempt. Usually, I just type up stories, essays and poetry on the computer. And look up some stuff on the internet, can't forget that part.
Hubby says that I should try to overcome my computer ineptness... so here's my attempt!
Wish me luck, this is going to be interesting. My next thing to tackle is folding laundry, that at least is easy. :)
As the title of this post may suggest, I am entirely new to blogging. Please forgive me for any errors or other mistakes that you may find in here. This is my first attempt. Usually, I just type up stories, essays and poetry on the computer. And look up some stuff on the internet, can't forget that part.
Hubby says that I should try to overcome my computer ineptness... so here's my attempt!
Wish me luck, this is going to be interesting. My next thing to tackle is folding laundry, that at least is easy. :)
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