Paper Angels

     Paper Angels, the name of a movie I watched. Brief synopsis is a single Mom who cannot afford her kids Christmas presents, so she put their names on paper angels on the Christmas tree in the mall. But the shining star of the movie is her son. He is being bullied at school because he does not have the best of clothes, due to their poverty. When mocked on social media, by a peer who is bullying him at school, the kid turns the whole thing around with love.  He uses the social media shaming to ask for help for those who truly need help. He does not perceive himself as being poor and indeed he is not, because poverty does not come from not having money, true poverty is the soul who does not know love. This kid has love in abundance. Not only does he garner the support and admiration from his peers for shining a light, he does not react to the bully. He uses his paper angel to ask for presents for his mom, his sister and his bully, which by the way, throws the bully for a loop. Who can understand love when one does not deserve it?
     Most of all this movie made me see something my heart already knows, we are present on this planet to love and care for one another. That is the true light, it is not proclaiming love, it is living love.
    

Kindness Is Its Own Reward

     No big discovery in life, but sometimes it's the small things in life that give us the greatest rewards.
     I was on my way home from the gym this morning and there was a car in front of me pulled off to one side, struggling to move, smoke was coming out from under the hood. I drove past at first, but looking in my rear view mirror I knew I could not continue on and leave someone behind, someone  that might need help. So I made a u turn and drove back. I rolled down my window and asked the driver if she needed help, and she did. So I let her use my cell phone to make a call and then gave her a ride to her home. She profusely thanked me.
     Why is it when I help someone it makes me  feel  grateful in my heart. I think part of it is identification with others. I believe that identification is sorely lacking in society, and something that is so greatly needed. One of my favorite philosophers, Jacques Rancière, said in his book The Ignorant Schoolmaster, " Evil does not come from the first person who bethought himself to say, "This is mine." It comes from the first person who bethought himself to say, "You are not my equal." Identification with others brings us to a place of equality with others.   
     What does your mind think today? My mind sometimes thinks a lot, thus the reason I get on my soapbox. But it is not a soapbox of superiority, it is a soapbox that longs for a world of love and kindness and forgiveness. I identify with Rachel Carson when she said, "I am an idealist." Some things are truly not practical, but when a person is guided by a moral belief of helping others practicality is not always taken into consideration. A million other thoughts could invade the mind to dissuade what the heart knows to be right. I could philosophize on it until the cows come home, but I only know this one thing, I am thankful that I was able, in some small way, to help that lady.
     I leave you with some words from Bob Marley, "Emancipate yourselves from mental slavery None but ourselves can free our minds." When the heart knows love, freedom of the mind is not far behind.

Robot or Real

     The subject of my blog is this, what does a man prefer, a robot or a real woman. Some time ago there was a movie made, Cherry 2000. In the movie this man has a robot, she was a hot looking babe who says, "Yes dear." and has loads of hot sex with him. She is vacuous and empty, nothing behind that head of hers. But he is happy cause he is getting it on, yeah man. Are men really that shallow?
     As the movie progresses the male protagonist and his hot robot babe are having sex on the kitchen floor, when oh, oh, the dishwasher floods and shorts the robot babe out. Oh no, whatever will he do?
     I will tell you, he goes on a quest to get replacement parts for his hot robot babe.On his sci-fi wilderness quest he meets a real woman. Yup, she is feisty, she has a brain, and she can think. Suddenly the vacuous empty headed robot babe does not look so attractive to him anymore. He likes real.
     Women have a lot of perceptions, due to culture, as to what a man really likes, i.e. big breasts., etc. They go to all lengths to achieve this, including getting breast implants. And I suppose there are some shallow men who do go for this. But I have found, upon research, that men really do not like fake. It makes me wonder about our cultural misconceptions. Women have to be gorgeous, men have to be strong, all the time, no crying.
     But in any relationship, man or woman, they should be able to be real, be who they are and be accepted. That is what real freedom is, to be real.
     The Velveteen Rabbit is one of my favorite children's stories. My favorite part of the book is the conversation between the skin horse and the rabbit. What does it mean to be real? The whole concept of real is love. The rabbit is loved so much by the little boy that he becomes all loose in the joints, from being held so much. In the end the rabbit is no longer with the boy. Real love allows freedom, allows the loved one to go, does not seek to hold on. But the love that the rabbit received will always be with him for that love made him real. I always inserted something into that story, something that is not even in the book. You see the rabbit is worn from being loved. he has become all loose in the joints and wobbly. I always thought the book said, you will always be beautiful to the one who made you real. But the book does not, in fact, say that at all.
     What makes anyone real? Love, true love, true love is willing to let go. Because real love is not about us, it is about caring about the one we love. I choose to be real.

“Once you are real you can't become unreal again. It lasts for always.”
― Margery Williams, The Velveteen Rabbit
    

   

The Trip

    
     She stepped off the plane, the trip had been long, 22 hours total, 17 hours of flying and a 5 hour layover. She was scared, she was meeting him, in person, for the first time. She came out of the airport and he was standing there. A shock went through her body, the person she had seen on cam, had chatted with for months, stood there in front of her. She liked what she saw, because what she saw was the man she is in love with, never was, could never be was, she knew she would always love him. She loved every single thing about him, it was more than the outside, although that was good too. It was everything he is inside. Every time they chatted, that he shared what was inside of him, in those moments, she felt like she had a treasure she was unwrapping, and it was beautiful.
     She felt awkward, she needed a shower. Her first words were, "You don't have to like me." He said, "I love you, Pussycat." Her heart soared. When the taxi came and he sat right next to her in the back seat, she thought, this is a good sign, I stink and he is still sitting next to me.
     As soon as they got where they were going she took a shower. He went out and brought back chicken fried rice. They ate together. Afterwards he held her hand in his hand and marveled over them. Taking out his phone he took a picture of their hands together.  Face to face he commented, "You have blue eyes." Hadn't he seen them in her pictures? on the cam? this was a surprise?
     Everything about being near him pleased her. She would just look at his face, trying to drink it all in, this miracle of being near him. She filled her eyes up with the sight of him. She loved his outward appearance because she loved his inner being. She wanted to remember everything about him, store it away in her heart and mind.
     He had planned 2 trips for them, one to a botanical garden he knew she wanted to go to and one to an animal sanctuary. They were wonderful, but what made them special was having him next to her. Her most favorite day of all was the day they spent at his place, doing the laundry. He had a small portable washer and washed her clothes in it. She hung them out on the balcony railing, and loved every second of it. She cooked for him that day, he took pictures of the food, which to some might seem silly, but it pleased her to no end.
     Every second of that week was the best week of her life. It wasn't even where she was, although she loved this place. What made it special was his presence. She will be forever grateful in her heart that she was able to meet him. Forever grateful in her heart that she was able to experience what the true meaning of being in love, and what being loved means. She knows in her heart there will never be another for her, only him.

When

     I can't remember when, but at some point in my life I decided I was worth less, not worthless, but worth less. I can remember when I reached my teen years I looked at myself in the mirror and decided I was ugly. I never gave it much thought before then, I was too busy building a treehouse, climbing trees and playing in the woods.
     I have heard it said you get involved with someone who reinforces your belief about yourself. It turned out to be true in my case. I should have known from the beginning. Not too long after he and I got involved he got drunk. I did not want to ride in the car, with him behind the wheel. I walked away, he chased me and kicked me. I ended up getting in that car.
     It was intermittent then, the abuse. He could be nice to me. As the time wore on though he got crazier and crazier. Accused me of things I did not do, like moving the mirror on his truck. When I digressed and said I had not done it, he sawed the window handle off, so I could not roll down the window.
     I felt like I was walking on egg shells. I could not do anything right. If he was not feeling well and I asked him if he was o.k. he would scream at me, if he was not feeling well and I did not ask if he was o.k., he would scream at me that I did not care about him.
     Most times the abuse was mental, but sometimes it became physical, like when he choked me. Knocked me down and choked me. The only thing that saved me was someone intervened. Why I had stayed so long I have no idea.
     One day the proverbial straw that snapped the camel's back happened.  He was screaming at me as always. I had taken a few dollars out of his wallet for some eggs and milk, that was my crime. I retreated into the bedroom and lay on the bed, crying all day. I knew in my heart is was over and I had to get out.
     The break came not long after that. I had found a place to move to, but it would not be ready for a month. One day I came home and he was not there. He came home shortly after I did, at first he was nice to me. Then he called me a whore and offered me twenty dollars to have sex with him. I said, no. He came in the room and ripped his penis out of his pants and thrust it in my face. I was so scared that he was going to rape me that when the opportunity came and there was an opening, I jumped up, grabbed my shoes and keys and ran for the door. I got to my car and got away. I was driving around, crying, and I drove  my parent's grave and sat on it. I knew when I got up I was going to the police and report the assault. 
      It was the hardest thing I have ever done. Was I sad? Sure I was.I had days I did not want to wake up. My identity had become so intertwined with his I felt lost in the world, floating in space.
     I read The Analogy of the Cave by Plato. For the first time I began to understand. I was the one chained in the cave, with only shadows of light. I had closed my eyes to the abuse to deal with it.  I came to realize for the first time in my life there was a difference between loving someone and being in love with them. I had loved him, but I was never in love with him.
     Today I am in a better place. I go to college, I go to the gym, I write, I work, I live. I finally realized I have to be the one who values myself. Sometimes it is still hard because I hear those old records playing in my head, but I am not listening anymore. I do have value, whether anyone else believes it or not, I believe it. I no longer live in that cave, chained up, I am free.

Love Is Strong In Weakness

     I was thinking today, we hear so much in this country about how we will be winners and make this country great again. I think people overlook what makes greatness.
     I began to think about weakness. It is prized in most societies when men are strong, but what happens when a man cannot be strong. I saw just such a thing happen with my own father.
     He had a stroke 6 years before he died. My father had always been a hard worker and suddenly he was relegated to a wheelchair. It was most difficult for him. He had moments that were not happy.
     Then I thought about my mother. She became his caretaker. The husband she had always known that could work could no longer work. My mother would get him out of bed in the morning and help him get into his wheelchair. When she drove somewhere she would help him out to the truck. She faithfully tended him, without complaint.
    My mother showed me what love meant, real love. There can be a lot of  talk in this world about winning and being strong and great, but greatness is found in the weak things of this world. That is where real strength lies. It is in kindness and compassion and care.
     No one person can make a country great, but rather all the people that live in that country that allow their hearts to be ruled by love. By caring for one another, the strength of love is found in weakness.

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

                                        “How happy is the blameless vestal’s lot!    
                                    The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
                                       Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
                               Each pray’r accepted, and each wish resign’d” - Alexander Pope
       What is the eternal sunshine of the spotless mind? To me, it is a state of mind. It is the moments when I am alone, wherever I am. My mind begins to wander and contemplate the wonders. It is the state of forgetting the negative things in this life, and even though they are still present, they have no effect on my heart or mind. I am thinking of the beauty in this life, the beauty in my own heart, the beauty of love.

     The contemplation comes from those moments I have spent with loved ones. My heart holds on to those moments.People are not perfect, therefore life can never be perfect, but I choose to dwell in the wonders of love.  I know that  love is all that matters. In love my mind is spotless. In love the sun shines making all things beautiful.  And even when others might do things that hurt me, in love I forgive, I do not hold on to that which can weigh my heart down. This is my.......

                                       Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
                                             Love is stronger than all things. 
                                                  Love will bind hearts,
                                               No matter what life brings
                                             Love is the answer that shines,
                                                       Like the sun,
                                               Illuminating inside my mind.
                                            Love is what makes my heart pure.
                                                     When all else fails,
                                                In the end, love will endure.

     

Letter To My Favorite Teacher

     Dear Mom,
            My philosophy teacher asked me to write a letter to a former teacher that had made an impact in my life. I racked my brain thinking about what teacher meant the most to me and I realized it was you. You were the one who encouraged me, who made me think I could do anything.
             My first memories of you were you holding me on your lap, reading to me. You taught me the love of words and showed me that you loved me by giving me attention. Whenever I wanted books, which was often, you scraped enough money up to buy me books to read. We were poor and I know it must have been a sacrifice, but you always worked hard, sometimes at 2 and 3 jobs.
              You encouraged my love of creating. I remember you doing liquid embroidery. I watched you, fascinated by the pictures you painted with those colored pens. Then I begged you to let me try it. You gave me my own piece to work on. I loved doing crafts, you instilled that love in me. Later on I would teach myself to crochet. You never refused me when I asked for the chance to try it, you got me the materials and let me go at it.
               When I wanted to learn how to cook and tried to make Tommy a birthday cake, I messed up and the cake fell in the middle. But you never said one discouraging word about my failure. You acted like I had made a perfect cake, and you let me keep trying. I still love to cook and I use recipes you handed down to me.
                But the greatest lesson you taught me was love. After Daddy had a stroke and was in a wheelchair you took care of him. I know it must have been hard, but I never heard you complaining, even though life had taken a turn for the worse. I remember your get up and go, you did not let the hard things in life keep you down.
                 A child learns from role modeling, and you Mom role modeled life for me. You were the greatest teacher I ever had.

Whatever You Do in Life Will Be Insignificant, But It's Very Important That You Do It

     Whatever You Do in Life Will Be Insignificant, But It's Very Important That You Do It--Mahatma Gandhi
     What are the insignificant things in life, the mundane, the every day details? I was recently in India, Gandhi's country. It's different there, the driving is crazy, but done without the drama of road rage. Driving is an insignificant detail of life, but it serves a purpose, it gets you where you are going. That little example of driving, without drama, is an example of the importance of how things are done.
     So much of life is insignificant details, cooking, laundry, dishes. How can these insignificant things be so enjoyable and yet they are. They serve as a purpose to show love. I once read a story about a man, his brother was an invalid, severely handicapped, he needed his family to care for him. They did all those mundane things that we who are able to move take for granted,  they were done for him by those who loved him. From the outer view this man's life seemed rather worthless, he was unable to contribute to society by holding down a job. As the story continued the man writing it told of 2 different women he dated, the first one he brought home showed contempt for his brother, the 2nd woman showed love and compassion, he knew the 2nd one was the one for him.
     Today you might do something that could be viewed as insignificant, it could be something as simple as holding a door for someone, smiling at the person nearby, giving an encouraging word to another. It is very important to do those things that seem insignificant, because they might, after all, turn out to be very important.

Once Words Are Spoken

     Once words are spoken they can never be taken back. If they are good words they can encourage a person, but if they are not good they stay in a person's soul and eat away at it. Words can destroy a person inside, especially if they are accusative words. It is hard to forget words that hurt the soul, they drown out all the good words ever spoken because all one will hear from that person from that point on will be colored by what they said that was hurtful.
      When a person says hurtful things it makes a heart want to withdraw. Hurtful words wound a heart and destroy a relationship. They say love should be unconditional, but no one wants to be wounded and made to feel like they are less. It is very hard when you love someone, but sometimes you just have to let go.

The Value Of A Moment, Cyber Space Vs. Real Life

     I contemplated this in the dark hours of the pre-dawn light this morning. I began to think about a meme Iman had posted the day before her husband, David Bowie, died. It said, You will never know the value of a moment until it becomes a memory. How well those who have lost loved ones know this. I thought of my sister who passed away in 2014. I thought of all those moments I spent with her that are now memories in my mind. Memories will never be the same as being with your loved one but they do hold some comfort.
      In this age of cyber space we tend to place more value on technology than those moments that become memories. Not that cyber space cannot create some wonderful connections, because it can, but it can never compare to the experience of real life. You cannot physically touch the person you love through cyber space. While you can get to know another person intimately in cyber space it is a much different experience meeting that person in real life. The cyber relationship could be compared to the days of old when couples wrote letters pouring their hearts out to each other. While those letters took time to reach the other person, cyber is instantaneous.
     This is my story. A little over three years ago I met a man online. We began to chat, pretty much on a daily basis. It felt right and natural to talk to this man. He was my best friend, my confidant. I began to look forward to talking to him, sometimes I felt like I did a lot of the talking, but he shared his heart too and it is important to listen to a person when they share.
     The time flew by every time we chatted and before I knew it three years had flown by. I made plans to go and meet him. It was a big step for me and I was scared. Not only was I going to meet someone I had only talked to online, but I was going to another country. I boarded the plane and flew the first leg of my journey, to Dubai. It took approximately 12 hours to get there. We had a few hour layover before my next plane would take off. The first thing I did was go to the bathroom. I opened a door and there was only a hole in the floor, my first thought was, where the hell is the toilet. It was a neat hole, with a cut stainless steel piece cut to fit it, but I really wanted to sit on a toilet. Well, there were toilets in some of the other stalls and it was a relief. I tried my best to wash up in that restroom, but let me tell you, I smelled, I needed a shower. I am the kind of person that takes a shower every day . I did the best I could, but the best was not good enough.
     The next leg of my journey was between four and five hours. When I arrived in the Bengaluru airport I was told by a worker there to go get in a line and wait my turn. I did, I stood in that line for half to three quarters of an hour. When I reached the front I was told I was in the wrong line and told to go to another line, which took approximately a half hour or more. Two hours after landing I emerged from the airport. The man I had been talking to for over three years stood outside. It seemed very strange to see him in person, like  a picture that was now in 3D. My first thought was to tell him if he did not find me attractive that he was under no obligation to be with me. I needed him to know that.
     But even though it seemed weird to see him in person, it also felt right to be with him. I already knew his heart, because he had shared it with me. Through the entire week it seemed like the natural thing, being with him. It was even better in real life than I ever expected or hoped for, he turned out to be more wonderful than I ever could have dreamed or hoped for. Leaving him was one of the hardest things I have ever done, I miss his physical presence, it is not quite the same when we chat now because my heart longs to be with him in person, not just online.
     Do we ever know the value of a moment? I have memories, but those memories make me long for more. I loved every moment I spent there. My most favorite day was doing my laundry at his place. He has a small washer and he helped me by washing my laundry. I hung it on the railing of the balcony outside his apartment. After I had hung it all out I stood on that balcony and looked out at the street. I realized I like his country as much as I love him. I saw so many things while I was there, the people really serve others and they do so with a wonderful attitude. The traffic can be crazy, and cars drive randomly, but when they turn around or cut into traffic it is not done with a pissed off attitude, but more as a matter of fact attitude that they need to get where they are going. There are vehicles they call rickshaws, motorized little open cars, they serve as  informal taxis. One of the things I saw, that I absolutely loved, was sometimes these rickshaw drivers would park their rickshaws and just socialize with one another. There is a lot of socializing done there, informally, out on the street. I like that.  The one thing that was hard for me was the poverty. One day while in a taxi we had slowed down to a stop, there was am elderly man with half of one of his legs gone. He was standing there, with a crutch, begging. As I write this I can feel those emotions I felt when  I saw that beggar, tears in my eyes. Somehow it seems so wrong in this world, that people live in wealth when there is suffering for those who do not even have their basic needs met. I wish with all my heart I could make everyone's world good and right, and alleviate their suffering.
     My most cherished memories are the moments I spent with him. Listening to and singing music, dancing together, cooking for him. The things I cannot get over is how he served me, not what, but how. I have never had that before. Will there be more moments that become memories, I don't know, I just know those are tucked away in my heart and I cherish them.