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Life Lessons for this Philosopher Poet … How to Heal Ourselves and Our World


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Tired

My heart is breaking, heavy

with the rhetoric of hate spewing outward like an exorcism gone bad,

with cancerous acts of violence running amuck

Misogyny

Bullies

pushing and shoving words into the universe

and by that act of doing, make it so.

I am tired of beliefs that allow no compromise; that infringe upon me and mine; the life of others. Life.

Why are you so fucking angry with everyone? Is the world so unbearable? Anger engenders anger; love gives rise to love.

I am fatigued by the ineptitude of leadership on all sides. Reluctant to step up and out of my cozy cocoon, but recognize

silence is no longer an option

the path of least resistance is no longer an option

I miss the gentler and kinder side, the rationale side, the moral fortitude of what was, what still can be if only …

Who the fuck cares if that “whatever it is” is not cross-dressed exactly how it needs to seem?

I am disheartened by our inability to safeguard this infinitesimal spec of rock, dirt and water we call earth; to even acknowledge that we should care about the consequences of our inactions.

I am worried about our humanity.

I am tired.


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Is it Time to Listen?

I realize I may get flack from  a lot of my friends on the right side of the fence – and maybe if I knew better I would agree. Lately I have found it more healthy to hide my head in the sand during this crazy political/religious world upheaval that is happening, especially over this last year.  It’s just too painful to see where we are headed. But maybe the real solution is to start looking for folks who are willing to sit down and talk responsibly together and figure out how to live together, as unique human beings with different belief systems, and work on the issues that will ultimately affect our ability to survive as a species.

It was only five minutes since I turned on the TV in the middle of a segment of Face the Nation with the Governor of Ohio (no names), but a Republican (OMG!) :O).  I liked the little I heard: about needing to talk across the isles; to take personal responsibility; that he thought political parties were on their way out; that a lot of issues (health care, taxes, immigration) needed fixing, but the only way to do that was for both parties to be actively engaged at the same table;  that he doesn’t think breaking down doors and taking people, who haven’t done anything wrong, away from their families is right; and HOW could United Airlines pull a person off the plane like that – where was anyone????  These are all inter-related. That you needed faith, whether humanistic or formal religion; and that no one, including us, the constituents, are willing to listen to any news except the news they agree with. Anyway – would be interested in hearing him more to see whether I could live with his other political views.

But maybe that isn’t really the point here.  Maybe the point is just to listen and to start a dialogue.  Perhaps the far right/left ideologists won’t want to join, but maybe there are enough people willing to sit down at the table and talk together as a group (whether we’re talking a nation, or talking the world); to listen to all sides; to start understanding all sides,  including those at the far ends of the spectrum.  If we don’t at least understand everyone, we can’t grow as a race, a human race.

Anyway, it would be interesting to see whether we can start garnering enough momentum from both the disenfranchised politicians and us regular folks on both sides of the story.  To start to come together and really do something adult-like; i.e. responsible. Maybe we are so bad off right now that the only way is forward to some kind of sanity. I hope we are close to the bottom, we can’t afford (from a human/earth perspective) too many more of these shenanigans …. Liza


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Good Night, Hello

Nighttime covers as I scratch and itch, settling deep into this bed of mine; finding the perfect spot to wait for the splash of waves rolling up onto a sun-drenched shore. Soothing voices in my ears, opening windows, sharing space and time.

I start flinging far into the blue-green ocean depths, weights of anger, perceived traumas, misconceived thought constructs hard and unforgiving: looking for release after six decades of searching. Truth. Peace.

A catharsis – of sorts – after many nights – I continue, heart now open. Ellie, her old bones, joins me on our slow journey down this sandy shore toward the waiting dead: Ty, Dad, Greg. A happy wag, a knowing smile, an outstretched hand.

Grief I thought long-tempered escapes its confines; loneliness tears through the emptiness of this, my universe.

Strong arms hold tight as I sit against soft memories. Soaking in the smells, the touch, the strength of holding close. Not to worry. I am here.

I breathe deep this gift.

The waves continue to call as the soothing voices dig deep, down, down, down, fighting to release my demons as I drift into that other dimension: here, now, there, gone.

Much needed peace soothes my tired soul until the last words of the meditation seep into my consciousness. Removing the headphones I turn to fall back to sleep. Tears that pooled within the hallows of my face gently roll down my cheeks, soaking my pillow from that interlude of space and time.


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Peace

Life has been a bit wearing lately, to say the least. Tonight TV off, taking some time to chill, listening to music and going through my desk, I came across a salutation I wrote back in 2011 with Greg, a time that should have been the blackest of blacks, but somehow we had surrounded ourselves with a shroud of peacefulness that kept us grounded. It made me think. I have plenty to be thankful for – health, two beautiful little women that will grow to have the strength of their parents and the parents before that, their aunties, and uncles, and cousins and deeply held friends. If I expect this world to be peaceful, I, myself, need to be peaceful. That does not mean that I should not stand for what I believe; I came across a saying by Martin Luther King, Jr a month or so ago that seems even more apropos to these times: Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.

But I need to lead with peace in my heart. And that brings me back to my lost daily salutation; needed even more now than back in 2011 when Greg was here to ground me, to bring that even-handed and philosophical perspective to life.

And so, each morning ~
I graciously greet each day with an open Heart, and allow the Universe to breathe love, health, and peace, especially peace, into my being. Namaste

Painted in Waterlogue


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November 8, 2016

 

Stunned. I waited a day just to make sure it was what I thought and to compose myself. I do understand the discontent of the American public with our political process, those that voted for the man because he spoke to them; those that voted for the third party because there was no where else to go; and those that didn’t vote at all because they thought there was no choice.

I can only hope for us as a nation, our children’s children, the health of the planet, and for that illusive goal of world peace, that the bombastic, prejudicial, misogynist rhetoric that had us turning off our TVs and radios will whither and be silenced in the broken state of our politics. Or will change in tone – because politicians lie, and that all this will go no further than the good deeds went over the last eight years. For once, god bless this broken down system.

Hopefully we won’t go to war, kick out new immigrants from this great country built of immigrants; build a damn wall that won’t do any good anyway; create environmental hazards that will now, or in the future, create havoc with our planet; or give credence to hate groups who might now feel empowered by the man soon to be at the top. In these next four years, we cannot forget that those in need are not always looking for a handout, but sometimes just a helping hand up; that we cannot be a country of greatness if we refuse to pay back taxes to better our education system that needs to teach our children how to become men and women of worth; that we cannot turn our backs on our military, our police, our firefighters; that we need to respect one another – ALL men, ALL women, of ALL colors, of ALL religions and belief systems that honor life, hard work and the respect of one another. Respect begets respect. Where did that all go?

I hope in four years time we will have not done anything really stupid or irreversible. I’m hoping those in politics have listened to this broken vote and take this time to figure out how to govern together on matters that are the business of politics, no more. THAT would be the light at the end of the storm. Poor humpty-dumpty is indeed broken. I hope we don’t do ourselves in while trying to fix him.


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Dad

Dad, a word that brings up a nuance of emotions and feelings over the last sixty-four years: adoration, awe, love, respect, dignity, teacher, love, gratefulness, sadness, peace.

Though Dad never played favorites, I think there is an affinity between a father and a first-born daughter. For a small moment in time, you are the entire universe. The universe, as you know it, revolves around you alone, a small seed floating in an embrace of unconditional love before the world widens to include others in which to grow and share that love.

My perception of this man I call father is a stoic, tall Dutchman: quiet, strong, loving but pragmatic, the narrative solidifying through the years. He was a man of few words, which comfortably meshed with my inner broody disposition. Because of that confluence of personality traits, I did not have long chatty conversations regarding life, values, and dreams, but somehow his love of thinking, his desire to understand the world in which he lived imprinted itself on my core being.

His quiet and good-natured disposition continued even as his memory and body gave up. I have to believe – for my sake – that inside that broken down body, his mind knew how to disconnect and was still vibrant and alive. However, knowing Dad, even if that did not happen, he would have said – if he could – “It’s OK Liza, this is all part of life. It is what it is.”

Whether his ashes are all that is left, as he liked to tell us, which when freed will nourish whatever patch of earth we place them on; whether his essence moves forward with the lessons it still needs to learn; or whether he is reunited with the forsaken god of his youth, he is no longer in pain, confined to a body that gave up long before he was ready.  Rest in peace Dad. I love you.

Clarence “Stretch” Kamps

November 3, 1920 – January 4, 2016


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Healthy Living

OK – so I’m going to start writing more, though not my normal musings of poetry and insightful thoughts. More mundane. In fact, I’m writing to keep myself honest – HA. This all starts with the observation that I HATE to be told to do anything. Not quite sure where that comes from, but it affects all parts of my life. It’s probably why I like project management work – I get to tell others what to do, at least at work. Out of the work environment I try really hard to not tell people what to do – maybe that was a detriment to raising Taira, who knows. I give my opinion, loudly and freely, don’t get me wrong, and I know for some that feels like I’m telling them what to do. But in general, you don’t tell me how to live my life, and I won’t tell you how to live yours. My sister knows this well and I can always tell when she is trying to gently give me a little nudge, bringing up all sorts of reasons and things she is doing herself. She is well read.

This stubbornness also affects my health. Damn if anyone tell me how I should take care of myself, including myself … sigh. I’ve been ignoring a bone-on-bone knee issue now for years. I finally had an x-ray (no surprises there) and was told to go get some physical therapy. That was over a year ago. Now at 64, I had an epiphany, or at least have acknowledged that if I plan on living past 100 and want to do more than just sit in a chair, I’d better get off the damn chair and take care of myself. Besides that I am so very tired of having this argument with myself over and over and over again. Just get off the frigging chair and do it!

That comes to my second pet peeve – have you noticed that pet peeves are rather destructive and not at all helpful to living a full and healthy life, whether that is spiritual, relationships or your health? I don’t know about you all – but I hate walking into a gym and being the one that is the most out of shape – you know those cross-fit gyms where everyone is trying to outdo the other and be damn if you are in their way because you’re not as good or as fast? I actually had a conversation with a friend who said as much. Or could it be that just because I look at everyone and think WOW, that I then feel they are looking at me and saying, what a looser? Who knows, but like I said, it bugs me. So I’ve been putting my blinders on … walking in, working out, swimming – putting my mind in la-la land trying not to over-think anything.

To my relief, I have found that I’m in a gym that is made up of a very nice bell curve of the human population. About 10% are VERY young and flawless (body-wise); 20-30% are under 50; 40% are between 50-80 and then maybe 10% of VERY old but very spry and vivacious folks, all due to the fact that the gym is in the middle of some very expensive condos where a bunch of rich retired folks live. Maybe the fact that it’s also part of the health care system, next to the physical therapy department – whatever – it’s nice. And if every person of every shape and size can walk around without any thoughts of who is there, who is looking or what others are doing – well then I guess I can do it too. Still in la-la land. I’m definitely not in anyone’s way, 10 minutes here, 10 minutes there, though I do swim for 30 minutes, but I must be hitting the sweet spot –the pool is near empty!

So. We will see how this goes. I’m beginning week four. I waited a bit before putting this into the ether.  It wouldn’t look very good to say I’m going to take care of myself one day, and then the very next day drop off into never-never land, never to be seen or heard from again.  Guess I’ll just stay in la-la land for the moment until I start to feel part of the collective whole; those that are there to stay in shape and those, like me, that are trying to get in shape. Wish this stubborn person perseverance.


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Evolution

In the beginning

there was not …

and all was whole and right.

And out of the not there came an explosion

of chaos …

which in itself was whole and right.

And as chaos slowly took form,

there emerged one of many tiny blue/green planets …

and all was good.

And when life took hold, taking what it needed in the wholeness that was

the Universe continued to expand …

and all was perfect.

Debris from the original chaos by chance collided

in a cacophony of fire and rocks,

and though the little planet stumbled …

all was still perfect.

At some point self-awareness crept into the consciousness

of some, and for a long time …

all was perfect

until ingenuity turned into greed and self-importance

and these beings in their misunderstanding of what was whole and one

 fought with and over the tiny blue/green planet.

…

Chaos and anarchy met together in harmony

and though it was what it was,

it was not perfect.

The beings destroyed most of the planet

as they annihilated themselves.

All was quiet within the void

of self-awareness and the little planet was replenished …

and, once again, all was perfect.


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Missing

 

I miss the laughter.

Those hard belly laughs that begin

deep down and rumble tumble up in mirth,

scouring the dark and murky passages as

they explode outward in psychedelic expletives.

Eyes sideways glancing, trying to

hold onto some semblance of sanity.

Volumes speak with a single blink,

as emotions unwind, explode:

spirals of color and spit flinging themselves

out and into our humanness

together we bend as one gasping for air

laughter lines pulling at our faces as

that Zen moment of clarity

lightens heart and mind

washing away the gritty tension that held us hostage.

Intermittently,

giggles fill in the crags and crevices,

escaping air and voicing themselves as

renewed bursts of energy,

until spent …

we relax into our routine –

a camaraderie of years.

He completed me.