I Know You See It

Sometimes clarity comes in a warm wave and is underwhelming but you just get what it came to deliver. You see, instantaneously, in Technicolor the principle that eluded you as craftily as the Roadrunner managed to do consistently from Wiley Coyote. The thing is when you get it --and you will, you get it. Involuntarily, it feels so, your lungs draw in a long hard deep breath. It’s solidified –you get it. Grasp it and hold on with white-knuckled determination.


Love does not equal necessary. Nor does it equate to health and well-being. Picture a tree --yes, that analogy…the one about roots and leaves and all parts serving a specific purpose for the life of the tree. Some parts are intended for the lifetime, others for a season.

Recognize!

Like You've Never Been Hurt

Happy Make A Scorpio Day

She Isn't Really A Bitch

I'd heard that Karma's bitch
I found her harsh disposition not so cold
I understand that she only comes where the mat doesn't necessarily say "Welcome" but it does say, "Come In"
My interaction with her was civil
I was waiting for her
Greeted her, to her surprise, with a smile
Told her I'd been expecting her
Set her at ease immefiately
letting her know I didn't believe what had been rumored of her
I knew full well why she was darkening my door
Only to bring me what I deserved
Hand delivered the harvest for the seeds I'd sown
Thank you, Karma
You are not, at all, a bitch to me
'Cause I deserved your presence

World Citizen

I am hard pressed to not be moved by the catastrophe that occurred in Haiti on January 12th. My compassion is stirred. Images are permanently etched in my memory. Immortalized right next to those of my fellow human beings choosing to take leave of their standing surely spreading wings lifted on whatever faith they held dear, choosing their death from the Towers. I scarcely watch the news, local or otherwise. Accordingly, I have kept my viewing of Haitian coverage to a bearable minimum. Not from uncaring, rather because I know how easily I see myself in the skin of others. How easily my eyes well from the sight of a two month old baby with multiple wounds and broken bones that could easily be mine, from a mother pleading with rescue works who've been at work for seven hours to try one more time to pull her ten-year-old daughter from the rubble because she is sure that she is alive.

Through tears I am incensed that there remains a "bottom-line" for certain aid organizations in the midst of this tragedy. I have been reminded that some don't know the history between the U.S. and Haiti. I countered with the fact that some choose to forget entirely or employ selective memory. I am increasingly malcontent with the idea that I am constrained to the borders within which I was born. If, in fact, I am a human being I am of the opinion that membership to this species is not limited to hemispehere, continent, nation or even timezone. Am I not a citizen of the world? Thusly, am I not obliged my global compatriots respect, compassion, civil rights and just plain courtesy. Rather than preach to you I will pass along the information I have availed myself to.

Namaste.

http://www.theroot.com/views/haiti-historical-timeline

http://www.uptownnotes.com/haiti-in-context-voices/

http://www.uptownnotes.com/haiti-in-context-history/

Changing Stripes

Dear Dad,

It would seem that it is far easier to change your number than it is to change your stripes. Even easier to tell me that you are going to change your number and neglect to give it to me. Of greatest ease to resurface and then quickly disappear...as quickly as dawn chases away the night. Unfortunately, for me it will not be so easy to console the young version of me that is very much alive in the most vulnerable part of me that still believes in you. That still vehemently grasps tightly to the fairy tale of daddy...the fable right behind Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy. As the eldest child I am used to picking up the pieces. I can not afford to remain open. I forgive it all. Even the sins you think I hold against you. Imperfectly perfect, daddy. My heart is closing only because it cannot sustain another injury on top of injury on top of injury, more and more injury. I love you endlessly...The End

The conditions are...

From time to time I like to look up quotes on a variety of subjects. Love being the most prominent cause for those searches springs a wealth of expression. Most consistently, of late, when asked my position on the subject of love (being in it, around it, the receiver/giver of it) my response is that love evolves. I take that position when love is shoved into the construct of marriage. I have been asked by my closest friend on more than one occasion over the course of our relationship if I love my husband. The response has unhesistantly been yes, but with a qualifier added...kinda how Kool-Aid comes pre-sweetened but isn't it's best without the sugar I put in it myself.

I recognize that some things I say may come across as though I am against marriage and would vehemently advise anyone not to marry. Contrarily, I think marriage is a contract that should be entered into with eyes (not so much the heart) wide open. In general, I think people should know what they are getting into. I realize that using the words "contract" and "marriage" in the same sentence erases the romance and even commercial appeal pledging to spend the remainder of your days with one person can evoke. I do that because that is precisely what marriage boils down to in my opinion.

Marriage is a contractual agreement between two people who vow that only death will part them. They promise that they will remain loyal, steadfast and long-suffering through sickness and health, riches and poverty. For all practical purposes marriage is a business partnership, a merger of two profitable entities to form one lucrative conglomerate that from the beginning of the negotiation of terms seems equitable for both parties. Over time, from my experience, the marriage of assets and liabilities, ebbs and flows of matriculation become cyclical constant incongruent compromise for one (usually the woman). So one can be become embittered enough to claim breach of contract and dissolve the contract (ie divorce). But why a contract? Because contracts inherently have conditions. They are supposed to have them. How else do those involved know how they are expected to conduct themselves in order for the agreement to remain in force?

So then that brings me to love...just in general. Quickly, people boast of how condition-less their love is. I counter with a question of the measure of their compassion. Family members are exempt from this discussion because we were born loving them it would seem so they are obsolete. I will use myself (as not to make you too uncomfortable). I love my spouse. The way I love him today is concretely different from the way I loved him almost ten years ago when we first exchanged vows. I have more compassion for him than love. I say that because, as stated to my closest friend recently, there are things that coincide with marriage that don't necessarily fit with love. One allows what the other would not dare tolerate. Thus, the need for compassion when tempted to sing-a-long with Tina when she sings "what's love got to do with it". Furthermore, my love toward him is not, by any stretch of the imagination unconditional. It can't be. I have expectations. He has expectations. We all have expectations of those we choose to love. We can play semantics all day. Love is conditionally condition-less.

Ignorance is bliss, isn't it?

I am by no stretch of the imagination a know-it-all simply because I do not, well, know it all. I do, however, have an intense damn near involuntary thirst for discovery, uncovering, delving beneath the surface of just about anything. I love knowing. I have a strong affinity for not taking things at face value or, worse, taking another's opinion as fact. No dogma or culture belief is worth blindly following. I choose to employ a tool scarcely used, I feel, that is critical thinking.

I have a myriad of thoughts that are birthed from my very visceral reaction to ignorance. At times I think I feel too deeply on this topic. As though I am a superhero whose sole purpose is to eradicate the world of the soul killer, my nemisis, ignorance. I swoop in dressed as sexily as Wonder Woman (loved Lynda Carter when I was younger...even dressed as her one Halloween) I lock horns with this dastardly demon and battle to death replete with *BANG* *POW* *THWACK* *CLANG* *THUD* more than determined to thwart this enemy to the minds of all of mankind and its generations to come. Then, reality settles in and I realize that regardless of what I think, feel or otherwise, some people are just comfortable living, believing and thinking as they were taught to do so.

Ignorance, a pet peeve of mine right up there with smacking gum and chewing with your mouth open (lol) will never really dissipate. So then where does that leave a truth finding Scorpio like me? I suppose it leaves me to find minimal solace in the often recited words, "When you know better you do better." Perhaps G.I. Joe said it best, "Knowing is half the battle."

Love!