Listening to the dew...

I was walking to class the other day and looked down at the thick blades of grass making up the green areas on campus. Florida grass is strange to me still. Its not the soft carpet of thin slivers of green you have in Wisconsin... anyway...

I was walking as I looked over where the green met cold hard grey and noticed it to be very wet. Large beads of dew gathered on the wide blades, balancing precariously. It looked as though any moment they might slide down the central vein of the blade and disappear, soaked up by the thirsty ground below. The drops shimmered as though they were quivering in the cool morning air, but I knew this was only a trick my mind played.

There was a reason I was looking down, the morning sun in the south is a bright blaze of orange. I look down to avoid its burning through even my sunglasses as I walk. This is how I came to notice the grass and even as I look down I can see this beaming light of the sun. It reflected itself in the orbs of condensation, giving them the appearance of shivering where they sat. It was quite lovely the way they glinted like diamonds that had somehow been smoothed to have the surface of pearls.

My next thought wandered off to what it might be like if the dew covered grass were to play a song. How would it sound? As a scene in a movie, what soundtrack could I put to this lovely imagery? First I thought of my footsteps, hitting the hard concrete the sound of each falling was not muffled as it might be on grass or carpet. Perhaps this would be a bass cello, slow and deliberate. All thought, I am not sure if I wore heels that day, perhaps some striking sticks or a more resonant somewhat higher pitch would be in order for my steps. Especially if I were in a hurry.

But it seemed so peaceful in those few moments I noticed the dew. I think I will keep with a slow and deliberate bass cello. The faintest breeze surrounded me like the sound of a clarinet playing to itself. Quiet and serene, it did not wish to disturb anyone else and certainly did not bring unrest to the droplets settled upon the grass. Each blade held its glittering burden and bent itself over to do so. The low humble sound of another woodwind, perhaps an oboe, ought to be added to this ensemble. Finally, the drops of dew themselves and the sunbeams which gave them their grand appearance deserve some lovely sounds. I think a flute in a middle range trills like the light quivering over the perfect spherical surface of the water. A cymbal shivers every consistent tone like the steady rays beating down.

My eyes saw a lovely image and my mind ran off to fill the remainder of my senses with these wonderful bits. It lasted only moments I believe before my steps hurried on down the path away from the dewy grass and my mind darted off to think of work and actively listened for the sound of my cellphone warning me of possible crisis. I was grateful for a few moments of peace and serenity. I will look for them again in days to come for just a little escape.

To those whom commit the greatest atrocity...

In the name of your god you kill. So in the name of that god may you burn in whatever hell it is you believe in.

Honestly, there are very few reasons to kill and for religion or belief is NOT one of them. I do not care how passionate you are or how much your Almighty speaks to you. It is not right! We live amidst people not amidst gods. It is humans to whom we answer to. Humans whom lay down the consequences which we must endure. There is nothing which puts us above the laws of the land in which we live.

I really only see one instances where killing can be justified. The situation is kill or be killed. Someone is threatening you, yes then you have a right to defend yourself. Soldiers sent over to Iraq I hope are not going for a chance to just "shoot 'em up" and such. But once they are there they are often put into the kill or be killed situation. To which no blame should be upon them. I hope that their conscious is clear and their actions or intentions were not questionable.

Tintinnabulation

Today's word of the day on dictionary.com was tintinnabulation which means a tinkling sound usually of a bell or bells. I have a favorite bell and no it is not sleigh bells. I am not sure what it is called but its just those little two half of a cup bells that make a soft tinkling noise. Belly dancers wear them quite a bit and my first piece of jewelry from the Renaissance Festival consisted of a bracelet with these little bells. Let me try to express this lovely little bell... just free writing prose/poetry... see what comes out.

Tnk, tnk, a two sharp sounds with the slights drop between them. T - n - k goes the bells on my wrist with the slightest sway of my stride. It is a pure sound, unadultered like the innocence of a newborn babe. Alone there is no ruin I can imagine that would make it impossible to enjoy this sound. How something so delicate and soft can resonate through my very soul and draw up this joy. It is a wonderous moment to myself amidst the clamor of a day. Like in a desert of oppression I am delighted to find a well. The sound of water so welcome my heart nearly bursts and the pulley though it creaks easily brings it forth to me. This is the bell in my day, like a well in the desert. T-n-k, t-n-k like the slosh of water heard through the wind and the creaking pulley.

And though I sit and wish to drink, drink it in leisure as though I would never have to leave... Time summons me onward. Onward on my journey I must go and my thirst quenched now I will cling to the memory until I find a moment to hold my bells again.

I believe!

"Do you believe in fairies? Say quick that you believe. If you believe, Clap your hands!" ~ John Barrie's Peter Pan

I look at the world today... I wonder how many people would clap their hands any more. How many would roll their eyes and sit silent in the theatre... too many I think.

Too many do not see or look for the magic in life. I've looked and all too often I cannot see. But every once in a while there are glittery lights dancing in my peripheral vision. When I look toward them they are gone. Fairies are not afraid. They simply do not want to be seen. They do not need to be.

Believing is what gives them their fairy magic. Believing gives them life. Seeing is for knowing and knowing is not always believing. But if you believe then you know...

I believe... I know... and I always clap.

Reverence of Faith

So I will probably do another post some time later on my stance of faith/spirituality. Talk it through as I genuinely believe that there is no such thing as static conviction. Our minds make little shifts and changes as our experiences influence.

But this post is not about me, this is once again about people infatuated with God. There are those whom I envy for their loyalty and seemingly line-drawn view of the world. The unknown makes me anxious and so the idea of being able to let go and let my path in life be decided for me would be nice. I cannot do that though because I make my own route. Anyway, that is not what I wanted to go into.

I find it to be wonderful that there are those people who feel God has drawn them to a higher good. It seems to be one of the strongest lures that pulls people away from this self center capitalistic society. People have become self sustaining, which is fine but they step over and even stomp down others to get there. Missionaries step away from their comfortable lives to help those in need. I do not believe in conversion but I believe that religion, Christianity and others, have put a lot of money and a lot of resources into places that would have otherwise gone unnoticed. It is a pity that diversity of belief has been lost some to the idea that people need to be 'saved' and converted but today most of the means justify themselves, despite the ends which I do not agree with. Food has gone to the starving and malnourished. Shelter to those exposed and especially health care. Sometimes just hope that human kind has not completely left them to fend for themselves.

My hats off and hands in the air (Deaf clapping) for those people who follow any calling to help others.

Ponderance of Faith

I listened to an English teacher talking about a section in the Gospel of Mark, in which the reason why Jesus teaches through parables. It was interesting since several inferences are that he does not wish the 'secret to the Kingdom of God' be given freely. It suggests the 'Word' be taught through parables, sort of cryptic messages or metaphors, so that only those capable of true belief will understand and are then bestowed forgiveness. Otherwise, if freely taught then all people might take on belief in a superficial manner and though undeserving receive the blanketing forgiveness.

I do not wish to make anyone uncomfortable. Christians have a tendency of getting defensive and some secular individuals uncomfortable as they feel an oncoming lecture of damnation/inferiority... So, Before that happens here I got into some free writing. So forgive me if it does not flow and seems a bit random. I'm not going to do much to organize my thoughts beyond what comes to mind.

I consider myself a member on the later group, uncomfortable with discussions of faith. At least, I feel so with most Christians. Its not hard since history has shown us this group has a tendency of going around and imposing its beliefs upon people under the guise that they know better than we do what may be good for us. Some of this has changed and I get a sense from some that they genuinely are concerned about my mortal soul. I have also found that their own lives were altered by faith and they simply find themselves wishing to share the wonderful experience with others. I equate this to some delicious dessert you just HAVE to try. That is fine but perhaps I just do not like the combination of dark chocolate and coffee.

I have been perceived as an individual standing at the middle of a teeter totter trying to balance myself. What lies on either side depends upon the person judging me. (Call it what you like, observations, assumption... its judging, we all do it whether we like it or not. Its a natural human behavior.) It could be between damnation and salvation or simply a less fulfilled life versus divine love and acceptance. My problem lies in that I do not see myself trying to keep from falling to one side or the other. I think that in my visualization of the universe, I have put my feet together and planted myself firmly upon the fulcrum and am in no danger of slipping left or right or falling straight down. I simply stand.

I am told of unconditional love and when it is explained to me, almost immediately it is followed by a condition of how I am to be given this love. Acceptance of Jesus or God, it seems rather simple. So why is it that I find myself stepping away from this 'unconditional love'? It is something we would all really like to have I am sure... but when I am told what I have to do to receive unconditional love the logic part of my brain goes all flashy lights and beeping alert sort of stuff. Because unconditional means that I do not need to do anything.

I can sit on my butt here and breathe, staring off at the little snowman stocking that hangs out of season on the floor lamp in my living room... blink... blink... glance briefly at the yellow crackled lamp shade hanging in the kitchen. Looking back to the snowman and the black floor lamp, hold the inhale... an exhale sort of faster, heavier like a sigh... and I am loved. I accept nothing and repel nothing. I do not declare that my soul is free of all that is vile. I do not even think of how I am loved. I just sit, breathe, and stare.

And if I got up to make myself a sandwich, or kiss my husband, or curse at the neighbor for something... I am still loved. It never changes, I am not loved any more for donating to the little league boys outside my grocery store or less because I thought the person driving ahead of me was an idiot for slowing down so much to make a right turn. That is unconditional love...

oh the points I could touch on but my exhaustion is catching up with me. To bed I go and perhaps tomorrow I will write about something else, the same thing, or nothing at all. The Christian God defined by the print in the Christian Bible will love me for all I do. Even if his followers shake their heads and sadly imagine cloudy paradise where they will never see me.

The boring is found...

... here. I have started a separate blog for everyday things. I want to leave this one for creative works. Hopefully this place will inspire me to write by having to update a little something.