God tripping pen trip

     In the old days, when wars were fought, people shed blood; lost limbs; lives; sanity; virginity; culture and bloodlines.

Call it love; lust; obsession; possession; property; sex, religion, politics, progress. Whatever you call ‘it’, it remains the proverbial spoke that keep our wheels moving, sometimes not forward, but moving none-the-less.

This has always been a survival of the strongest, a dog eat dog world, where the meat on that inevitable bone, takes the form of many shapes and ideologies.

Today’s conglomerates have the power to bulldoze trees

all in the name of progress

regardless of how deep their roots lie and

how much shade they used to  provide. 

Some believe in conspiracy theories, others believe in brands

Unfortunately the largest percentage of any population may think, they actually have a say in the way things are run, when unknown to them; well for the most part, they are simply pawns playing to some grand plan. Like puppets we are conditioned to believe certain religious doctrines and ideologies; like particular books, music, fashion, and the list goes on.  Some believe that systems have been established, to inject trends into society and because many of us are followers, we easily fall into their mouse trap.

“That style isn’t in any more, I need to buy the newest, wickedest outfit that everyone is wearing.”

Just like those night clubs that invite the ‘so called’ trend setters to frequent their establishment, so that the ‘2^nd and 3^rd degree trend-setters following the original trend setters would attend. You hear it all the time.

“That is the newest place in town, everyone who is anyone is there.”

Ohhhhhh look how cute, run for me, come on, run….

And who decides who these people are, is it based on money, attractiveness, social standing etc?  So where does the rest of the population fit in.  Are they any different from lab rats, turning tricks for a treat.

Lovely golden crust

Just thinking about all those theories that provide an alternative reasoning behind life, and the way we do what we do, and the whys. What are the truths?  Perhaps they are all

different and relative to who’s searching. But then what if there are different truths? Life is not black and white, it is filled with a kaleidoscope of colour, hues, tints and textures. What if there were enough beliefs to go around, what if they all had some validity to them, including the trend setters, who live at the crust of society, the top echelons. Maybe they have something to prove, because they live in the lime light, the oven…maybe their God is indeed brands. Who am I to suggest otherwise.

"It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, 
than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God."

Karl Marx elude to religion as being an institution poor people identify with, one that will ease their plight, some justification to their suffering, so they may not question their positions in life. Their God, justifies their situation, gives them hope, I suppose, so that they may not rebel. And their riches are promised in their Heaven, if they behave. While the rich man’s Heaven is experienced right here in this existence.

One God or Many

Gods are made up, invented, passed down, romanticized from one generation to the next.

The ancient Greeks, First Nation People, and other indigenous groups believed in several Gods or deities that were responsible for various stages or phases in life. Quite like our modern government, with the Prime Minister as the head and other Ministers being responsible for different areas in life, Works, Agriculture, Education, Social Development, Housing etc.

What if the God-dom had a similar structure, each God advising someone, what if money and sex were Gods for particular reasons unknown to the deep rooted Christians believers. What if this theory of the father, son and holy ghost is one side of it, and there was more to meet life than what is experienced. What if everyone’s perception of God carried some truth to it, what if we respected everyone’s truth, to lay theories down side by side, and create a single world religion that embraced the many truths we posses. What is the worst that can happen?

TRANSITIONING DREAMS

Good morning papa sun.  Goodnight mama moon.

I rise with the dawn to welcome the sun. My dreams were filled with symbols that I may never completely understand.  This reminds of a particular dream I had a few years ago.

I did nothing out of the ordinary, I read a few chapters from no particular book, the TV was on, as a backdrop, or soundtrack to the words in front me. I had no recollection when the TV went off or when I placed the book on the night table.

The spirit world is but a breath away

I simply found myself walking, freezing, in snow that was 3ft thick on the ground. Everywhere a blanket of whiteness made visibility difficult, I had no clue where I was going, or even when I was, but I became very aware of the large bag on my back.  I didn’t even know what it contained, but it was weighing me down and making movements particularly difficult.  I was thinking something profound, like my bag containing my heavy spirit at the time, but that is a different story.

When I am in trouble he is never far away

In front me, I heard his familiar howl, my spirit wolf suddenly appeared from this white world that engulfed me.  I was lost and afraid.  He was my familiar protector without a name. Huge and beautiful, bigger than the last time I saw him, with a more intense and darker grey coat. He walked up and nudged me, instinctively he was asking me to follow him.  But he wasn’t alone. Behind him, walking sure-footed, crunching the freshly fallen snow was a large cat, either a cougar or mountain lion, I didn’t know the difference. I jumped at first, and then realized he was a friend. A cat walking with a wolf. I smiled

Coming from the tropics, I knew my species of pot hounds, but this cat, wow, I didn’t quite know what signs to look out for.  His tanned coat was thick and beautiful, covered in flakes of white snow. He followed the wolf.  Pausing when he did, walking when wolf moved.

Wisdom comes in listening…

As I stood there admiring their strength. I heard a sound from above. A raven soared above, giving directions to my land friends, I just followed them. The wolf led us, I walked behind him and the cat walked behind me, while the Raven flew. I was taken to a cave. It was cold but warmer than the wind and cold outside. The wolf spoke, not in words, but in thoughts, he just looked at me and I heard him in his silence and wisdom.

              “You will be moving soon, physically and emotionally. Be prepared.

                                          This is necessary for this next phase of your life.”

I understood without having to ask any further question. The raven perched itself on a ledge inside the cave. I opened my bag and it held my favourite clothes and books. I looked at the wolf and snuggled between him and the cat.

Spirit travels before we physically do

It is only in its polarity that I understood that concept of feeling warm and safe, the contradiction of the freezing cold outside. Being left in the cold on many levels, now I understand warmth. I closed my eyes and slept. 

Three months later, I moved house, home and heart. The process would have been more difficult had I not been prepared.  This is a public gratitude and acknowledgment to my spirit animals…Wolf, Cougar and Raven.  

Photo taken from the following site:  http://grandfatherpeter.multiply.com/journal?&page_start=100

October rain Cloud

the poui blossoms are different this year

subtle and soft like yellow fingertips

stretched across barbed wire fences

while feet are planted in boots

stuck in mud as thick as an October rain cloud

an inch is all that is needed

for skin to embrace skin

but no one can move

or wants to move

since fear grips like a tranquilizer

numbing emotions

and I am slowly forgetting

how to feel

yellow petals fall around me

smiles mask remnants of the love I remember

erasing the longing I carry inside my back pack

ever since I stitched and ripped and stitched and ripped

and stitched my heart shut from feeling

i am on a journey to bury the past

sprinkling flowers in this tear-soaked pillow soil

waiting for the first shoots of something

to grow

that doesn’t resemble any fruit

I’ve tasted before.

C. 2011 by Paula Obe

First published by 
http://www.tumblr.com/tagged/caribbean+writers,

STICKS AND STONES

“Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me.” I would like to think that the faith within our hearts is stronger that the book we live by.  They can burn a million books, but they can’t out the fire of my faith within me.  One ignorant act can create a domino effect of a blood bath, and will it be justified?  Will the screams of women and innocent children be the retribution to one single match?

The world is filled with many ignorant individuals, but ignorance is fuelled by uncontrolled egos, and when you add them all up, their formula equals mass destruction.  And in a world of a million followers and one leader, blind faith is a dangerous catalyst that can burn like bush fire through a virgin forest.  

Followers rarely step back and examine pre-actions, and leaders most times are too busy creating strategies to stroke their egos, so that they may shine in their own glory as news-networks across the world treat them like the paparazzi treats movie stars. What would happen if ignorance is downplayed, and treated for what it is, a jackass looking for fame, at the closing of a people’s holy season.

It’s like children in a playground.  The bully awakens the fear among the weak, and the weak are considered cowards for not fighting back. When in reality the bully hides his fear behind his actions. Most times it’s the unpopular kid looking for a little attention.  And we all know there is good and bad attention, but attention is attention at the end of the day.  As adults we play the same “Look at me, look what I can do” games in the hopes that we will get the attention we seek.

Sometimes adulthood is simply years masking childhood insecurities that have been left to ferment and stink.

In my opinion, Mr Jones is getting far too much publicity for his ignorance and notice, I said Mr and not pastor, and the closer some claim to be to God the further back they stand. Whatever Mr. Jones views are on Islam, it’s his views. We are all guilty of condemning other’s beliefs, maybe not publically, but if we examine ourselves, we do.

We live in a land where democracy is the king of freedom of expression. Jones burning of the Koran is his act of bullying. It is a shame that he can’t live and let live, and allow other groups the freedom and right to worship.  But the more attention we place on him, creates that domino effect that can spiral out of control.

Sensationalism as it stands sells news, and increases ratings, but even that has its price...especially with today’s self serving agendas.  There is hardly any consideration placed on the needs of our fellow man, because from major conglomerates to individuals, masturbation is really the order of the day. 

The sum of all our paths

      Logically, the sum of one plus one, will always equal two, and when presented with linear equations, there are formulas to find the proverbial x and y.  Life makes sense because there are rules and solutions and it is easy to find the correct answer after the equal sign.

Love on the other hand is not a variable like numbers to be worked out with some formula. For the most part the problem can’t be laid out, since most times it is impossible to see the entire sum before us, and this is just in our everyday life. Hmmm imagine if we layered that with past life incarnations, and the spiritual threads connecting us with others in this lifetime. How can we ever comprehend the magnitude of this soul problem. Perhaps if there was some way to take all our incarnations and our association with certain individuals, plus the complexity of the mind and heart, maybe we might venture close to finding the answers we seek from time to time. Love then, can don a resemblance to logic as we know it…unfortunately we don’t and can’t have those variables before us. So what we are left with is a mathematical sum that is missing 90% of the numbers. How can we ever work out the solution?

Perhaps life is not about finding answers, but rather about searching for the lessons that we are presented with. For example, let’s say in a past life, two souls found themselves in a mother child relationship, and the mother abandoned the child for whatever reason, and the child grew up feeling abandoned all its life.  And in this lifetime, these same two souls enter into a husband and wife relationship, where the wife feels that one day her husband will walk out on her, and she places an additional stress on their marriage, and the husband doesn’t understand her fear, for him leaving her. Her problem is that she brought her past fears back with her, in this lifetime.  Okay let us take that a step even further, what if, the said woman becomes the victim of a terrible accident where she is rendered paralyze, and her husband is forced to care for her for the rest of his life. Perhaps when he says his prayers he asks God ‘why him’ do you think he will get the answer, that he is learning responsibility due to something he did in a past life, probably not.

So these variables to situations and problems are not only unexplainable, for the average person it will be unbelievable.  It will be like telling someone from the 18^th century, that men will one day walk on the moon.

Babies crawl, and then walk. Talk when they are good and ready. Our problems are the results of so many situations that we can’t even fathom; we can make great ‘guesstulations’, but that is the most any of us can do. In an ideal world, given all variables, life is logical, love is too, to a certain extent. We are that candle in the wilderness, exposed to so much darkness, that all we see in front of us, is the pathway to go one step at a time while trusting in the universe, that the lessons we encounter is necessary…and are rather building blocks to a bigger picture we can’t see.

Visibility

Safe spaces are underrated, but if it weren’t for them, the day will feel like 50 hours long, burdened by a mixture of positive and negative self consumed thoughts about being who I am.

Yesterday I ventured into POS, simply because I had been craving a ‘Sally’s double’s for a while, and since I had some time to kill, I detoured down town, parked opposite Church’s Chicken and walked to the Sally’s doubles stand near the Jerk stand. I stood behind a score of people waiting, some with napkins in hand, some eating. My eyes caught sight of a woman with short dreadlocks, giving another woman the eye, her lips pointing to me. The woman looked back and caught my eye. I neither smiled nor diverted my gaze. Somehow in that brief moment between glances so many thoughts flooded me, reminding me of those many insecurities I thought I had crumpled and thrown away.  But unknown to me, someone went into my trash, rescued and ironed them; now they stood crisp in front my eyes. What were their glances about? The thoughts swirling around my head, made the glances impossible to decode…neither their lips nor eyes bore any smile. Standing my ground I kept my stare fixated upon theirs…being reminded of my visibility, gave me an inner strength I had not felt before. When I got my doubles, I went and stood behind the one who initiated the stares in the first place. She kept looking back, and eventually walked a small distance away and kept staring.

I am comfortable in my skin, was the mantra my heart repeated. My thoughts however were not so comfortable, and weaned in and out of past insecurities. When I was a cub, my lips were positioned to meet others with a smile, but my visibility was greeted by frowns and misconstrued meanings…my smile disappeared, my stare saw only what was in front me…others hatred and ignorance for who I was. I became stoic and in some cases reserved, and this was my mask.

The thing about this mask is that it comes off in safe places, like work and home and among my special circle of friends. And sometimes when I am so comfortable, I misplace it, especially when I refuse to venture outside that scared arena…so when I was confronted by it, I was left mask-less…but a funny thing about being left naked is the strength we foster within. Today I am going to destroy that mask…face the sun in my visibility and step forward.

WOLF SPIRIT

It’s been a while since I’ve added something to my blog, and as I begin writing I have no clue as to where it will lead. So let’s just call this piece of sharing word-flow.  I am beginning to accept my state of choice, being alone, not lonely, just alone. Too often I was caught up in the ‘feeling sorry for myself’ status. I am learning about my strengths, my abilities, my weakness, my dreams, my expectations.

For the first time in a long time, I am re-connecting with my inner self.  And as I’ve learnt before great things can transpire when this happens. On another note I am strengthening those relationships with many of those who have reached out to me before, like family and friends.  

However at the end of the day I remain the lone wolf on top of the mountain, looking around and looking within. The wind blows against my face, and I taste her breath as sweet as sunlight could taste all sprinkled with love. Call her God, call her Spirit, call her my Inner Guidance, the trilogy of unconditional love and acceptance of self and beyond. I am accepting all that I’ve felt and yearned, I am accepting all that I know, all that had been granted and all that had not been. Sometimes desires are mirages that are best left unreal and untouched. And I thank God for those.

I turn to the east, to the west, to the north and the south, I look up and down and then I look within. Behind me paw prints leave my mark, and with time they will return to the dust and dusk of life. Ahead of me, stretches untouched land barren and wild. My fur is coated with the seeds of flowers and fruits. I begin with one step…my inner being makes the next…and we go on...