My Wish...

Someday you will see what stands before you

The one that has always been there

Why must you stay within your shell and not see that I truly care

You feel that you are not worthy

That you have nothing left to give

Please open your eyes take a deep breath and begin to finally live

A brilliant light in a dark place

That is what you are to me

Take my hand and kiss my lips and let your soul be free

By: BMBW

The Crone

When I think of the crone I am immediately taken to two separate images. The first image comes from my simple ability to retain odd information. I know that a crone in modern English is an old lady who is cross and bitter, thin and ugly; much like the old cards I used to play Old Maid. If I were to venture into ancient Celtic or Norse culture the crone would be collaborated with Maiden and Mother as the final descent before going into the astral realm of rebirth.  

Unfortunately crone has personified into a different meaning altogether as of late. It is no secret that I have struggled in the ways of love and in trials I would not wish upon any living breathing creature. I once decided that being with a companion would be the only way to survive emotionally and financially. I moved from one broken soul to another which was not a good thing for them either since I had a big backyard of my own to clean-up.

I remember with every failed attempt I would say “this is it” or “I will never do this again” and worse yet “maybe I should end it all.” My life became intertwined with negativity, dark sources of comfort and poetry that would make any emo kid run to their mama for comfort. I finally had my moment of awakening when another power higher than me decided I may not live. As I lay on a cold hospital operating table waiting my re-awakening and a few body parts less I remember weeping not knowing my own fate. I think in that moment of deep sleep I reached a new revelation about my own life. As I awoke not knowing if the vicious cancer ravaging my body was all gone or not I realized life was indeed a gift. I approached everything in a new way. Certainly I had moments of pity, as I felt like the old crone no longer able to produce life, and no longer able to cleanse my own body. I vowed I would never seek the companionship of another thereafter. What a complicated mess love can become. I swear at one point I considered changing my own ceremonial vows to “Do thou promise to love and destroy one another slowly into the abyss of hell” anytime I performed a ceremony. Thankfully I had some more moments of clarity before I sent a bride or groom running for the hills.

I now have the pleasure of sharing words, thoughts, and feelings with a few select people that have changed my outlook once again. There are still good people out there, one just has to be willing to take the risk at seeking them out. I know that in some manners I am the crone, and maybe I will be alone, but thankfully I have found a source of comfort in the words of my savior that I know will stay with me and never forsake my love or lack of abilities.

"The Crone, the Reaper ... she is the Dark Moon, what you don't see coming at you, what you don't get away with, the wind that whips the spark across the fire line. Chance, you could say, or, what's scarier still: the intersection of chance with choices and actions made before. The brush that is tinder dry from decades of drought, the warming of the earth's climate that sends the storms away north, the hole in the ozone layer. Not punishment, not even justice, but consequence. " 
— Starhawk (The Fifth Sacred Thing)

The Seeker...

John 5:31 If I testify about myself, my testimony is not valid. 

This scripture always reminds me that self-gloating will get me nowhere yet it feels as if nobody is there to hoist me on their shoulder with shouts of acclamation. Then I am overcome with the realization that everyone seeks approval in some manner. Why do we do this? Is it to feel better about ourselves? Is it to feel an intimate connection with another?

I believe in the end this “void” is left by the desire to feel loved. I do not necessarily mean love in the horizontal notion but love from our fellow brothers and sisters. The desire of love and appreciation can be said to stem from low self-esteem, and this may be so due to the fact that praise of any kind can be a temporary “fill” in this void. Obviously when one is omnipresent about the need for appreciation we can cross a fine line where one can come across as self-absorbed, but on a neutral level it can indeed be a good thing.

I do not believe that my own desire to be appreciated is due to the need of my ego being stroked. I have crawled on the ground like the foretold visions of Micah. I have paid my dues to the hands of evil; I have starved and known trials. I also know that somewhere in the den of bitter hatred and self-loathing there was brilliance desiring to be made known. Like a peacock strutting in the yard, one wants to share their accomplishments especially when they are of great magnitude to others or just the self-improvement of one bitter being.

I think appreciation is simply a validation of sorts that becomes a reality check so we can be certain that we have not placed delusion on our own selves. 

Is Philosophy Taking a Backseat to Science?

Science has changed our society by leaps and bounds in the last 20 years. We have came further in the understandings of the human body, and the diseases that once afflicted the populous as a whole, in turn giving people a new lease on life, but the question I pose to you is; what does it really mean to find true happiness?
The meaning of life is something that has been pondered from Socrates to the current day scholars, and philosophers. True happiness to some may be an emotional based feeling, an almost euphoria if you will, while others find happiness with money, and the ability to buy their happiness. With either assumption it is still a feeling of happiness that consumes us at these moments, and this is the principle that philosophers try to get down to an absolute with. 
Science has to have a clear concise proof of whatever subject they are pursuing, while a philosopher will pick up where science leaves off. A philosopher will take the answer, and pick it apart, and question the true validity of the answer, and question if we really can come to the answer in the first place, as something may not be what it seems to begin with. This for some can be a waste of time, people do not understand why we have to question anything; society for the most part feels if we can come to an understanding and have scientific proof, that the topic should be closed for discussion. I personally link philosophy to a grade school motto that I was always taught; “there is no such thing as a stupid question, the only stupid question, is the one that does not get asked.” Philosophy is much like this; it dares to ask the question, it dares to question science and rational fact.
As we gain more success in the areas of science we tend to think that philosophy was a moment written in history, a moment where great men pondered the entire meaning of life and our existence. What many people fail to see though is some little known or thought about facts; as I sit here and write this blog to you, I am trying to write the perfect argument to supplement my question. We do this on a daily basis, whether it is convincing ourselves of the many reasons why we do not need the molten lava brownie for dessert, or something more serious as a debate with a spouse about the well being of our family; the great debate is all about philosophy. Our government has been based on philosophy for as long as most of us can remember. The Senate will sit in debate over a law, or a bill, and have great debates, and hear all sides before casting any sort of approval, or disapproval; once again all rooted in philosophy.
So as I leave you with that thought, realize while you are asking yourself what kind of miracle diet pill science has created this week, you too could be asking yourself, “What consequences will the brownie have on my hips in the end?”

The Pain Within

“ I hate how I loved you
   I hate how I felt
   I hate everything you said
   That made my heart melt

   I hate what you did
   I hate how I hurt
   I hate how you left me
   Alone to die in the dirt

   I hate how you said you loved me
   I hate that I thought it was true
   I hate that I let my wall down
   And let myself fall in love with you

   I hate how I was so stupid
   I hate that I fell so hard
   I hate how I let you in
   And watched you steal my heart

   I hate how much you put me through
   I hate how much I cried
   I hate that I don't understand
   Why you had to lie

   I hate how I try to hate you
   I hate it that I can't
   I hate it that I miss you
   Even though you don't

   I hate how I still love you
   I hate how I still care
   But most of all I hate it
   That you are no longer here”

Written by: Alycia Forbes

They say that death is a permanent place. When one dies they are gone in the flesh forever, yet can haunt you as if they never left. Now I swear this is not some absurd paranormal blog; more so a cathartic release.  

In this sad Loretta Lynn (esque) way I fell in love at 12. Now laugh as you will everyone at that age used to think it was the adorable puppy love and certainly the first in a long line of heartbreaks…well they had part of it right! When I went on to get pregnant at 14 and had my first child at 15 people took it a little more seriously; when I we had 4 children together by the age of 21 I think it had just became normal.

Children were a blessing they are the greatest gift ever bestowed to me. I thank god every day that I met the man I did because he created his one and only legacy in life that would be positive. Needless to say we grew up and grew apart, which is so common in young love. He decided to leave when the youngest was only 2 months old; seemingly forgetting he was a father. Sadly the family seemed to forget as well.

The pain I went through during this time was unbearable. I loved this person so much it hurt, and his ability to throw us out like yesterday’s trash was an even bigger pill to swallow. I definitely think I went through very stage of mourning like a death. I moped around for weeks and even got married to the first man I met to try and “love” the pain away. I tried after a few years as the children got older to be the middle man if you will. I tried looking for this man, calling family members, and even finally calling the prison I learned he resided in. I guess all I hoped for was for the kids to know they had another parent, someone who indeed loved them but had a hard time loving him let alone them. I wanted them to be able if anything to have some closure, and maybe in the end I needed it too.

I no longer loved this man in an intimate way. I loved the man that blessed me with 4 beautiful gifts, yet I hated him too. 6 ½ years after his departure and numerous calls and paced floors I finally got a phone call. Although it was not him directly it was a sister in-law, I thought for a split second that maybe someone had remembered their existence. Unfortunately 30 seconds into the call and being asked to sit down I knew mourning would begin again. He was dead.

I never thought in a million years that I would have 4 children and more so I never dreamed if I did that I would do it alone. The biggest shock to my world was realizing at 28 years I was going to have to look at these 4 confused faces and explain to them their father would never call. Imagine how hard it was to explain to 4 children that tried to find the sadness and emotion over a man they really did not know. Days got much harder after that when I found the obituary online and it stated he had 2 brothers and his parents; no mention of 4 little blessings that were left to carry on what was left of him (what I believe was the good part).

I never thought it was possible to love and hate someone at the same time, but over the last 3 years I have slowly healed, and the children came out unscathed. Today we have a large portrait of the man I feel mixed emotions about. On the day of his death we say a little prayer that in death he finally found peace, and in an odd way gave us peace as well. 

The Freak Show

“All that we ought to have thought, and have not thought and all we ought to have said, and have not said, and all that we ought to have done and yet have not done, and all that we ought not to have thought yet have thought, all that we have ought not to spoken, yet have spoken, all that we ought not to have done and yet done, for thoughts, and words and works, pray we oh god, for forgiveness and repent, with penance amen. “

The above prayer is one of my favorites of all time, it doesn’t hurt that it was epitomized in “The 13^th Warrior.” The reason I think this prayer stands out to me is the fact that there have been many times in my life where I should have done the right thing, knowing it was wrong to refrain. On the other hand there are times when I decided to be extremely extroverted, when I should have taken a step back.

I would label myself as an intelligent person yet all too often I have found myself in positions where I knew I was in the wrong, or allowed myself to be taken advantage of and yet I did nothing. They say that hindsight is 20/20 yet we as human beings seem to get on this wheel of destruction and though we know it will end badly we expect a different outcome each time. This is truly the definition of insanity.

All too many times we idly sit by as we see our fellow man abused, or all too often we allow ourselves to be the victim. Is it encoded in all of us to be the punching bag, or the martyr? How can one be both at the same time? Growing up I never seen my parents have much more than a squabble with one another. I never appreciated the joy and peace that it was indeed bringing to my life. In my 31 years of life my parents are still together, and in a world of divorce this is a rare event. One would assume this has instilled wonderful values in me? Unfortunately this is simply not the case. Where my parents failed was the introduction of “the bubble.” I was just talking today to someone regarding the “bubble” I explained that I approach my child rearing in a different manner. I allow my children to know this world is far from perfect. I have also explained they are the holders of their destiny. One must work hard to excel and life is not going to be perfect even still. As a psychology student I know that this goes against the grain, but having the life I have had I would hope it stops a vicious cycle of naivety.

The major age difference between my parents is what I think drove me to think I needed to start my life so soon; as well as being a great escape. I looked for love and thought I had found it, only to hop on the next bandwagon after having 4 children was still not enough to make him stay. I soon married after the bio donor departed to a man I met in a bar and whom I had only known for 2 weeks. I quickly learned any human being is capable of being the most deceitful liar in a 2 week time frame.  My husband immediately turned into a monster. 2 broken ribs, a broken nose multiple times, a broken foot, and bruised eyes for days became my new wardrobe. I felt I had no voice and that if I just tried harder he would love me. What a disgusting view of life I had. Thankfully I found a way out, but not without paying an extreme price, the monster is where he belongs for a very long time.

All too many times young and old we allow ourselves to go through these repeated cycles, and sometimes become a part of the perverse insanity ourselves. Despite all this I have learned that the freak show can become the circus owner. Slowly healing all oddities within; if we all took the time to make a gesture upon kindness, or realized someone may be walking in way side shoes that we long ago discarded, maybe just maybe we could sale the circus tear the tents down and let the sun shine in.