Despite being ultra busy of late, so busy that this is my first real blog post in weeks, my mind has been mulling over a myriad of topics.
I’ve thought about my stranger of love: not wanting to give up on him because of my feelings for him, but acknowledging that is precisely what I suspect him to be attempting. I still wish and hope that he finds a solution to meld his paradigm with mine. I find that I’m having to word it that way, because I have tried my level best to offer up options to no avail, and to this day he has controlled the flow of communication. My divine messages keep telling me just a bit more patience, keep the faith, but I find that there are increasingly more moments where my faith slips and I think it’s all been for naught. I do always cycle back to believing and knowing because of the energy connection, but it is taking me much more patience with myself it seems. Meditations are always fruitful, always calming my nerves, grounding and centering, but often providing me insight. Yesterday’s meditation gave me insights into his perspective, explaining that his fear lies in the unknowns and being unable to control the experience completely. It was conveyed as being compared to taking a drug for the first time, even if the drug is supposed to be helpful, but not knowing the side effects, or the intensity of the known effects on an individual’s system, and knowing that once it is started one can only endure until the drug subsides (which BTW is why most medications dictate that you refrain from driving or work until those elements are known). The meditation also gave me insights into his perspectives on my qualities that he is drawn to. I have to say I didn’t expect that and was in a bit of disbelief and cried. When I told Nathan about the meditation and what I was shown, Nathan agreed with every bit, and I again found myself teary eyed. My biggest question for Nathan was, is honesty really that rare? I feel like the perspective I was shown, my honesty was being viewed like a warning flag, like it is so unheard of that he couldn’t understand why I would tell him so many things. I struggle with that because I just don’t know any other way. Lies always bit me in the arse one way or another growing up, and I learned very early in life that the only okay lies were white lies such as: convincing small children the Easter Bunny or Santa is real, or like hiding gifts and squirreling away money for rainy day adventures. Anything deeper or darker was just too risky because if you were discovered you would get doubly in trouble for the lie and the poor choice, and if you weren’t “caught” it would inevitably cycle back somehow anyway. Perhaps that is why I have no trouble with the concept of Karma. Regardless, I was befuddled by the concept of another person perceiving my honesty as being too much, that my honesty might somehow be covering something else. So, on one hand I was embarrassed , on another blushing disbelief, and another disappointed to find out that I still (20 years after the first incident) am striking fear in other good human beings. Maybe my meditation is completely wrong, but then if I find it is, I may loose what shred of self-trust/confidence I have.
Another topic that ran through my thoughts this week was about names. More specifically when given names reflect someone that is in god’s graces or god him/her-self. This is actually quite common in many cultures: Diana, Brighid, Thor, Jehova, Adonai, Ajax, Calliope, Camilla, Daphne, Grace, Helen, June, Lilith, Penelope, Phoebe, Arthur, Damon, Griffin, Paris, Paul, Jesus, David, Solomon, Mary, Teresa, Shiva, Lakshmi, Sarah, Trisha/Trishna, Muhammad, Sai, Krishna/Krish, Gautam, and the list goes on. Where it struck me as interesting enough to contemplate more than once, 2 fold: I and many I know have names on that long list, and I and several of those people I know experienced some level of bullying or teasing over our names. My given name Teresa, got used to mock me relentlessly because I was a child right when Mother Teresa was doing great wonderful things that were hitting the news. I was somehow supposed to be some grand perfect person just because I had her name, and I can’t count the number of times that I told someone to stop something and they would reply “Oh, yeah, what are you going to do about it Mother Teresa”. At this point in my life I understand what an honor my name is, which is why I merely chose an alternate spelling, but back then I just wanted to punch people and had to sit on my hands. I’ve met Jose’s and Jesus’ and Joseph’s and Mary’s that had similar stories, It made me wonder though, having met also some Muhammad’s, Sai’s, Shiva’s, Diana’s, Thor’s, and others, if this is a universal issue, or if it just pertains to very christian names in very christian cultures. None of the others’ I’ve met with alternate culture versions have spoken of quandaries like this, so I honestly don’t know. Do other cultures have the same bully problems? Do children in other cultures have this messed up sense of knowing that a name is supposed to help someone have godly qualities, but being children and recognizing that we are all humanly flawed, somehow makes it ridiculous enough to mock that person bestowed with such a name? And my other thoughts were if kids can see the fallacy of hoping a name alone will improve someone’s character or bestow blessings, then why on earth don’t they mock the parents that bestowed the name and not the one that had no say in the first place? Furthermore, if kids can understand a name’s meaning, then why is that so comical to bully with it, why not just say “dude you know you have a name that means _____, that’s cool”. But perhaps it is merely a symptom of this culture I’m in, and perhaps it doesn’t happen in others. If so, I’d say we need to do some major cultural relearning. Just my tired thoughts on a somewhat random tangent.
Beyond that, I’ve thought about moving, our piles of stored belongings needing yet another sort. I’ve contemplated furniture requirements, especially that of Ian needing his own bed, but having nowhere to put it until we actually get moved. I’ve thought about doing a bit of a dresser shuffle to give the kids our old set and get us a new set. I’ve thought about purging and cleaning. I’ve had lots of thought invested into the new job, how it’s going, things I want to do, and how things I’ve already tried panned out.
Today I read a couple of articles out of one of the “Chicken Noodle Soup for the Soul” books for our daily devotional talk, and by the end of the second one I was basically in tears in front of my residents. Me a non-christian reading devotional material to a bunch of 80+ year old christians, and I’m the one that breaks down in tears. What amazed me the most is that after that moment it was like they saw me as a caring fellow human, because they all interacted much more, and 2 of the stubborn ones dropped their stubborn for the day. The one, whom I’ve been told doesn’t like being touched, actually came up and took my hands. He isn’t able to communicate very well anymore, but I could tell he was trying to say that it was a very touching reading. I thanked him and let him know that I appreciated his sentiment and that I was very happy he enjoyed the reading and discussion. It was a very feel good moment.
The rest of the day included a very unplanned succession of balloon related interactions. There was the book that majority vote won for the reading hour about hot air balloons, the visiting Halloween performer: a witch, that made balloon animals, hats, swords, flowers, and fishing poles… even flying balloon “darts”. Then afterward we played some picture games which 2 involved aerial related topics, and finally we revisited the hot air balloons via YouTube. It seemed synchronistic, but I have yet to determine a meaning, if any.