LETTING GO

I ran across something in a fan fic story that I'd like to share. From what I can pick up from other stories by this author, she (I'm assuming it's a she from the name) is either Native American or familiar with many of the customs. In this case two people with a long love-hate relatioship are putting the dark side to rest and committing to each other. The friend guiding their committment has each one write down the hurtful and negative things each has done to the other. The lists are exchanged and burned while each one promises not repeat their acts or to let them stand in their way. The friend tossed lavender and other sweet herbs on the fire to chase away any bitterness that might remain.

This got me thinking. Perhaps this would be a way to release our own hurts and pain. Maybe the ones who caused the pain aren't available to apologize (or aren't willing to apologize) but we can release the painful memories and let them go.

Make a whole list on one sheet of paper or a pile with one item on each piece. Work up to the worst or start with the big ones. Burn 'em, bury 'em, tear 'em up into little pieces and scatter them on a windy day. Whatever works. Scatter flowers, burn incense, smudge them with sweet grass, soak them in your favorite perfume. Let the pain go with the smoke or the wind and let peace take its place.

Much, much easier said than done, I know. Heck, invite some friends over and have a wake (excuse to partay) while your're doing it. Give the bad memories a royal send off and bar the door behind them.

Somehow this isn't coming out as smoothly as I'd like it, but what the heck. :-)

ADVERTSING?

Got the watch the Carl's Jr. ad that's creating all the fuss. Granted they didn't show it from beginning to end but that ad is so over the top it makes Janet Jackson's "wardrobe malfunction" look like Sunday afternoon tea with the vicar, a very high church vicar.

The more I think about it-the whole five or six minutes I've allotted to this particular tempast in a very small teapot-the more I believe the whole thing was deliberate. It pushes every button. If you haven't seen it, you haven't really missed very much. Actually the whole thing looks like a parody of a bad movie.

The company and the ad agency knew going in they'd get far more mileage out of free coverage on the news than they'd ever get from a paid ad placement. As a woman I'm not sure which is worse the blatant sexual exploitation in the ad or the blatant cynicism behind the ad. Actually I think the cynicism is worse. Push the sex button and the watch dog groups and "news" agencies react like Pavlov's dogs with a  raw steak. I think I need a shower, a very long shower.

On a more positive note. A couple of knitting projects are done.They just have to be sized. Good thing too, the weather turned warm just as I was ready to finish the largest one. Back to granny squares for awhile.

It's all over but the shouting for the dental work. It'll take awhile to get used to them but that's ok. It's funny, the things I was worried about-loss of taste, that sort of thing, haven't been a problem and the things that didn't even occur to me have. Guess what, if you aren't careful, lowers "float." I haven't been comfortable grinning like an idiot for a long time so I'm making up for lost time. :-)

 

 

DID I MISS SOMETHING

Brentub over at Am I too old for this???? had some goodies this morning including a report that one of the senators from Pennsylvania, Rick Santorum, has compared the Democrats to Nazis.

Did I miss something in the last couple of weeks while I was knitting, working, and getting ready to finish my dental work. Gee, I must have missed the organizing of our version of the Storm Troopers, SS, Gestapo, Kristalnacht, the Roehm Purge, that sort of thing.

Last time I checked the only administration that is holding prisoners in open ended detention is not being run by the Democratic party.

To answer her question at the end. No, I don't think that the folks that threw the tea into the harbor had this in mind when they did it. But, they were just one group. When the frontier finally ended in the middle of the last century we ran out of places to run to when we can't get along with other folks. After two centuries, we finally have to start learning to get along. I hope it doesn't take another two hundred years to do it. I'm not sure we'll last that long.

T-SHIRTS WITH ATTITUDE

The question is what kind of attitude. T-shirts being marketed as supporting the Christian faith have made on the naitonal news in the last week or so.

Did these shirts have messages that someone familiar with the faith would recognize as scripture. Such as-

"Feed my sheep"

"Blessed are the Peacemakers"

"Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done"

"Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive the trespasses of others"

"Love your neightbor as yourself" - (that's a biggie. I'm not sure a lot of us love ourselves very much, let alone our neighbors.)

"Father, forgive them for they know not what they do."

I'm sure that anyone reading this could come up with their own list and not use any of my examples.

So did the shirts in the news have any of these captians. Words that could be recognized as coming from the New Testament. At least I hope they could. Maybe that's part of the problem.

What I saw on the news (and looked up on the Net, just to double check-heck I watched All the Presidents' Men, gotta have two independent sources) were shirts with captians like "My God can kick your God's butt" and "Satan Sucks." "Jesus is my Homeboy" and "Mary is my Homegirl" at least mention somebody from scripture.

Problem is there's a bunch of ass whompin' folks over in the Middle East who could probably wear the "My God........" T-shirt and aren't shy about blowing up a bunch of kids or other civilians to get what they want.

I keep asking myself what is "Christian" about these messages and I keep coming up with NOTHING. The only thing that makes these messages Christian is that the people selling them say they are and they've found enough kids with extra money to buy into it. And I don't know whether to laugh or cry.

Some say that when the Angels cry the tears fall as rain. Maybe that's why we've been having so much rain lately.

WHAT MAKES A MOTHER...AND A FATHER

While John Pual II was making his way through his last illness, there were a great many posts about his beliefs (or perceived beliefs). John Paul did have a special devotion to Mary. There were a great many posts arguing back and forth whether Mary was actually Jesus's mother-in the physical sense.

The sense of a lot of the posts made Mary at best a surrogate mother and at worst, an incubator. This has been percolating since then, so here goes.

A lot of you journalers are parents. I don't have kids, but I have five nephews, I've changed a lot of diapers over the years. Actually getting the child into the world is just the beginning.

Most of the people who were posting probably didn't really think through what they were saying. Think of all the foster parents, friends, aunts, uncles, grandparents, step-parents who become mothers and fathers to children they have little or no physical link to.

If Jesus was fully human getting born was just the beginning of all the fun. God/dess as a totally helpless baby. It has to be fed, changed, bathed, walked when it has the colic or teething, gets sick and has to have its nose wiped. When a baby discovers what those little hands and feet are for, it has to be watched over to make sure those little hands and feet don't carry it into danger. Someone's hands have to be there for those little hands to hang onto when the baby learns to walk. Someones voice helps the baby to learn to talk. The parents have to be there to teach the baby to love and be loved.

God/dess couldn't be there to do these things for that baby. So he sent Mary and Joseph. They were His mother and father in every way that counts.

Imagine things from the Creators' point of view. Think about God/dess watching someone else cuddle that baby. Watch someone else hold out their hands for those first faltering steps. Watch someone else encourage those first lisping sounds. Someone else offer comfort in the dark hours of the night when the child was sick. Watch someone else offer comfort when knees get skinned. Listen while that child calls someone else mother or father.

It's hard to imagine God/dess as sacrificing something, but I can't imagine a greater sacrifice than allowing someone else to raise your child.