How to forgive, not forget and be paralyzed with the memory of regret?
airport dream November 16, 2009
I had a dream at an airport, where a close friend picked me up. I had been thinking about going back…A college friend came to pick me up. And, considering what’s been going on, it was weird that it was this person. The day has long passed and so bits and pieces are missing. I was getting off the plane and this friend of mine was picking me up by the luggage, if I had any. I don’t think I had a lot. I was thinking about the amount of luggage I had, if I had one carry on or two–maybe I was leaving instead of being picked up.
interesting news from dc November 15, 2009
I found this via ‘queering the church,’ Fr. Martin is the blogger.
respect November 15, 2009
I listened to a conversation about ‘respect’ and how, if we follow rules, and do not respond to injustices imposed on us with the rage it sometimes inspires, then we’ll be honoring God…it was difficult to hear because, who does that approach work for? Is it more than a question of faith?
Also- the conversation somehow ended with this quote from Revelations 3:20:
Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with him, and he with me
on calling November 13, 2009
To take a step back and see how sacrifice in vain leads to a great many more injustices is disheartening. In secular theory, self-interest, even among those who claim to be about justice, rules. The rule is- regardless of what one does, that’s the driving factor. In a conversation of self-love, in contrast, and human limitation, it is important to think about and consider the overwhelming sense of purpose and duty and responsibility.
Turning from God had become a survival tactic. I had forgiven and been patient and compassionate with others in such a manner that lead me to believe all I had done in the name of other’s humanity made me equal to, somehow, Jesus’ sacrifice. When mine was in a vain attempt to pursue freedom and justice for myself without hurting anyone. I can’t control that. I had come to believe that because I used scripture to go against my instincts and the advice of those I believed were God fearing only to learn their advice–everyone’s advice was about their self-preservation. Justice nor love had nothing to do with it. Sharing my joy had been about being completely ecstatic that I finally was able to have something a dream of mine be mine. And it ended up being a greater lie than all their feigned support and encouragement.
The childhood dreams of being an award winning writer or going back to teach at my old schools or a great dancer. Those dreams among others, were easy to give up because they weren’t the most profound for me. And, as for the writing, I have not published my fiction, but I’ve published poetry, articles and, among peers, am celebrated. It is the last dream I dabble in but have yet to fully pursue.
For the sake of the sins I had allowed against me, against others, and the sins I committed, I am keeping myself guarded. The post on suffering, I had written for another blog, and the lack of responses, leave much to be considered. It is speaking out as intensely and passionately against injustice, at times to the point of being overwhelmed and exhausted into temporary silence, which I’ve quit. In the end, it harmed more than inspired and I beg to question the purpose of asking to be loved beyond difference, because of difference and have that love inspire, have that love in grappling with persecution and yet longing for liberation and be honest and imperfect, still have God in it.
hardened heart November 8, 2009
Today’s scripture used to be moving, contending with the implications of sacrifice and the selfishness present in it. How do we know if we have given all we have? If we haven’t tried, if we have, and to who do we give it, on what account–to those whose needs are apparent or to those who ask for it because they are courageous/desperate enough? Blessed are they who are poor in spirit for theirs is the kingdom of God; blessed are they who are meek and humble, for they shall inherit the Earth.
These are a few of the beatitudes and, at times strength in spirit one day can translate into weakened spirit the next and call for a greater need to be able to give of oneself than is in the spirit’s capacity. The questions stem from the dichotomy of living of the world vs. in the world. How do we serve the poor in such frustration? Certainty is often explained as an opposite to faith; doubt works when/if comes from the same longing to connect to Truth and Love. …
leaving childhood November 7, 2009
In my dream last night, I went grocery shopping with my dad, bought plantains, among other things. I was at a mom n pop shop under a train, across the street from the station. Folks I have been avoiding were on the other side. I did my best to stay there to avoid them. There was a conversation taking place with me, my dad, among other individuals, maybe one of my cousins. I was nervous that, on exiting, I would run into them again.
When I walked out, however, when we went to go get the car, I got on my dad’s shoulders, and three of them were walking around–either in our out of the parking lot. The parking lot, though, was of my elementary school. Some of the same people in this dream, were in the dream from two nights ago. They were intrigued by my ‘youth’ being back, in part because they had wanted a part of it, thought/wanted to steal a part of it. I was fearful that on seeing them again, they’d try to take it back.
I have been writing extensively about the structures that informed my limited choices and the isolation that prompted me to act out of character, isolation as a result of feeling the need to be apologetic about my struggles because of the privilege of my consciousness. A privilege I felt guilted to supress by individuals who I had believed were at the fight/struggle longer. Still, others are asking me to ‘calm down’ use ’smaller words’ to somehow contain aspects of my passion, of all the tools I ‘felt allowed’ to acquire, that would cause the least amount of pain. As a result, suffering the greater consequences of torment, being haunted by allow attempts at compassion to silence my sense of freedom.
meeting November 6, 2009
Last night I had a dream about a professor from my undergrad talking to me about something before entering a department meeting where one of the profs from my grad university was in attendance. That’s all I remember.
school as home November 5, 2009
Last night I had a dream where I met with a few women in an attic to discuss what all went down last year, the traumatic experiences undergone and how I improved from them. Then, in talking with one of the individuals involved, I tried to explain my limitations and reality. That, to engage with this person, others had to be removed from the conversation, at which point, one of the individuals proceeded to walk in. I walked out. What had been a bedroom in an attic, tiny, as I walked out, transformed into my elementary school. This person ran after me, and I attempted to explain to this person, in detail why we could no longer work together. Even after the explanation and forgiveness given, provided, it wasn’t enough if my reality was not respected. The other person was indifferent to what had been done to me and their role, taking on the role I presumed they would take…the other one, who had indirectly and ‘unintentionally’ reaped some of the benefits of the false accusations which were made on me, was more ‘understanding.’
After this encounter, I ran into a college friend, one who had been supportive through this, in either another classroom or some sort of room with a clock, and from it hung an adornment. The adornment had a critical meaning of some sort–what it was, I am not certain–but it had a deeper meaning. One of us took it down and each of us took a part. We joked about it as we walked away from each other.
The first part of the dream took place at night, the other, during the day.
movement, zen November 2, 2009
Last night, I dreamt of a train and of crocheting. Weird combination. I was headed somewhere and running on a tight schedule, which but then the buses and trains were running late, so I walked towards the later stop, which was not too far away. Or I was about to and the bus to take us to the train had come. While on the train, or the bus, I was talking to a colleague from work, trying to learn how to crochet and explaining that I wanted a round piece at the end without needing to make a hat. Considering my former obsession with making hats, this was a strange turn of events. It was during the day, I don’t remember if it was raining the entire time, but the sky had started out gray and then, while riding wherever I was going, it was bright.
The piece I was making was, I think, an olive green color, and I had messed up somehow, going in one direction, I thought I was following a pattern but there was a bump where it looked like I had gone backwards, so, in this next row, I had to double up, to catch up in a way.
