Meditation Minute: A Woman's Word

Planning a big slumber party for seven 5th and 6th grade girls in the program. The objective is simple: prepare the soil for good growth. I anticipate high voltage energy bouncing off my living room walls. I expect giggles late into the night. In between pizza, popcorn, and root beer, we'll lift the veil to reveal the role of media and culture in defining a woman's role, deforming her body, degenerating her value, and demonizing her liberation. Okay, maybe we won't talk about all of that, but we'll certainly get the ground ready for ongoing conversations.

I hope to create a safe place for these 11 and 12 year olds to talk about what is influencing their daily lives, good and bad. I'd like to offer some words of wisdom from other women who can't be present. Prayer warriors, battle scarred and triumphant, renegades who have found freedom within the suffocating veil. The best gifts we can give these young ladies are our stories of how we make the conscious choice to live beautifully in a broken and dysfunctional world. Women, (and men who are sensitive to the concerns of women,) post your words/wit/lessons learned in the comments box below.

Shakedown

While overseas, access to choice films was limited. In my search for engaging entertainment, I stumbled across the movie "Ink." It's a B fantasy movie with a plot that rises and falls primarily in the dream world. The film is rather simple; the special effects are mostly tricks of light and shadows, which is actually a pleasant relief from the sensory overload in the big budget flicks. The good guys represent light (good dreams), and the bad guys can only project light (nightmares). Though based on what happens in our dreams, it could just as easily relate to the battle I imagine happening in the spirit world: invisible entities going at it Matrix-style, fighting for our spiritual liberation with a backward elbow thrust to the throat, or a gentle forehead touch. In this way, Ink managed to nudge this viewer's consciousness from passively viewing a fantasy to more actively considering what might be happening in our spiritual reality.

The best line in the film is this: "You know, the downward spiral is essentially a chain reaction...one thing begets the next: a man has a weakness, he's flawed. That flaw leads him to guilt. The guilt leads to shame, the shame he compensates with pride and vanity and when that pride fails, despair takes over and they all lead to his destruction which will become his fate. Something's gotta stop the flow."

Those who know their headed downhill are in the best position in terms of recovery; at least they are aware of their direction. Awareness is the step we take right before we decide to do something about our fall. But many times, people are completely unaware. This is a most dangerous station in life, since whatever ends up stopping the flow to jolt us awake is often so violent and shocking it almost always seems unfair, unjustified, or flat out wrong. Yet, this is usually exactly what is necessary for change to happen.

Without a flow stop, we rely on our own perception and conscious, which can be as jaded and corrupt as our flaws. Ink reveals what happens when we are left to our own devices; pride and vanity serve as a cocoon, a shell in which we incubate into otherness not of the Spirit, but of our small selves. Our mini-me's run around believing we are more (or less) than we are. If we continue on in this direction, we find ourselves living a waking nightmare, or - as in the case of the father character in this film - an incubus. His daughter is trapped in a nightmare which is directly connected to his own spiraling condition. To escape, a blind Pathfinder must create an interruption in the chain reaction to “Shake the shit out of him” - in essence, to stop the flow.

In the movie, a major traffic accident does the trick. But in life, what might that flow stop look like? This inquiry led me to a quick prayer that my Lord would not require such a dramatic catalyst. But then I started thinking of a different approach altogether. What if we back up the chain reaction a bit: suppose we took out a couple necessary links in the chain that lead to the decent? Take guilt and shame, for instance. What if our flaws no longer lead to either one? What if the perception of the flaw is no longer considered a problem, and is instead reduced, excused or even embraced? Without one or the other, would the reaction even take place?

The one film that has remained among my top five all time favorites is Mira Nair’s Kama Sutra: A Tale of Love. When I first viewed this classic, I loved it for all the right reasons: the art of love, the love of art, the film’s sense of texture, the rhythms, bold colors, vivid passion, and raw human emotion. I was in my late twenties and I must have watched that movie every day for weeks. The soundtrack of the film was my musical mantra. I even painted my apartment walls to match the mood of the film. I could identify with Maya in every aspect of her life from beginning to end.

Fifteen years later, I still love it for the reasons mentioned, but the script takes on new meaning at age 40. Having memorized most of lines, one kept coming up after I watched Ink. Raja, a favored concubine of a previous King, gives Maya a new perspective on the fuss and shame created by Maya’s illicit affair with the reigning King. “Honor and shame may be two sides of the same coin,” Raja says. Though this perspective casts light into Maya’s culturally mortifying mistake, the glimmer of hope is deceiving. Coins, after all can only project light. Maya learns to embrace and master her seductive gifts, but the chain reaction caused by her mastery is heartbreaking.

Nobody wants to feel guilty or ashamed. Most of us go through great lengths to relieve ourselves of these debilitating burdens. But they exist for a reason. No other creature on earth feels either way. These emotions are uniquely felt by humans. Some might say they are social constructions created by cultural rules or religion. I agree, but only to a certain degree because at our very core, in a deep spiritual place, we know when we are making a mistake. We know it because of the guilt and shame that follows our choice of direction.

I believe we need to feel guilt and shame as much as we need to feel honor and respect. Take away guilt and there is no opportunity for confession. Remove the shame, and there is no desire to repent. No repentance, no possibility of reconciliation, and no salvation. Without guilt from sin, there is no need to be saved from the death sin brings. Thus, destruction becomes our only fate. American culture and society is in the midst of such a downward spiral. Rather than waking up when the stop flows were put in place, such as 9/11 or the housing crisis, and now the A&P credit downgrade, American leaders distance themselves from any sense of guilt or shame, resorting instead to denial and blame. Their leadership is followed by the American masses resulting in the following impression: America has no shame.

When nearly every immoral act becomes culturally relative, or worse socially acceptable, guilt and shame serve no purpose in a society. Generally speaking, we are no longer held accountable for our own shameful behavior; someone or something in our environment, external to ourselves, is blamed for our own weaknesses and failures. Politicians blame the other party, corporate executives deny culpability. Private citizens hire service professionals to tell us our mistakes aren’t our fault, that we shouldn’t be so hard on ourselves, that we’re doing the best we can with the information we have available. And if this doesn’t satisfy as sufficient excuse, one can always claim “the devil made me do it!” To an extent, both in a real world and a spiritual sense, this latter claim is viable, but ultimately it is not sustainable. In the long run, we all must come to terms with our responsibility for our own behavior.

This is difficult to do in a society where music and movies have reprogrammed what is right and wrong. What was historically gross immorality has become is perfectly acceptable, even reasonable today. Good is mocked as square or unrealistic at best, intolerant or narrow-minded being the surest way to ignore a right mind. The inevitable consequence of this reversal of poles might parallel what is happening in the natural world: sudden and dramatic tidalwaves of violence and chaos culminating into extreme degrees of cataclysmic, ground shaking events never before witnessed in the history of the world.

Despite all the reports clearly indicating that we are going in the wrong direction, the average American believes that changing or stopping the flow is simply not within his control. People with this mindset resign from being active agents in his or her own story. Looking at the big picture, we shrug our shoulders with a sigh, "It is what it is.” We swallow this pill for our personal wrong doing as well, "I am what I am." The apathy inherent in this false assumption is easier to live with than guilt and shame. When the conscious speaks out against the lie, the disharmony is too uncomfortable for most. The discomfort might be a stop-flow were it not for the prescription drug industry's ready supply of products to desensitize our anxious, depressed, or sleepless dysfunction.

I self-medicated for years to numb my own hypocrisy. When that failed I simply popped in my favorite movie that helped to justify elimination of both guilt and shame. “The fuss, the shame,” as Maya proclaimed, would melt away by Raja’s consolation. At the time, I was glad to be so open to other worldly views. I could embrace what suited my situation, picking this culture’s right to amend my wrong, thus easing my conscious. Cultural relativity tuned my discord into a harmony that allowed me to keep singing my blues without ever having to do anything about it.

Now, however, after having experienced a spiritual shaking of my shit, so to speak, things have become clearer. Though I’m not one to promote dichotomous thinking, I have a more definitive sense that differentiates righteousness from iniquity. My desensitized conscious was reborn and it is made alive by God’s word - which doesn’t change, whether we wants it to or not. Light will always win in the end, no matter how painful the truth is. This is the lesson in Ink: when we take responsibility for what we have done, or what we have failed to do, we are released from the burden of guilt and shame. This liberation empowers us to transform our lives and the lives of others. When the father accepts his part in the abduction of his child, he allows the light to come in. This revelation releases him from the hold of darkness, strengthening him in battle and leading him to victory. He is delivered from the spirits that were blinding him, but what ultimately gave him power to win - and this is where Americans will be called to act - came from choosing to remove the blindfold. But only he had the power to do this, no one could do it for him.

This movie was fiction. But the battle is real. Regardless of one’s beliefs, one need only read the headlines to see there are forces hard at work to minimize the effect of the flow stopper or simply remove the necessary links, guilt and shame, that might awaken the dreamers. If this continues, we can look forward to more of this: "....the love of many shall wax cold" (Matthew 24:12) and "People will be lovers of themselves, lovers of money, boastful, proud, abusive, disobedient to their parents, ungrateful, unholy, without love, unforgiving, slanderous, without self-control, brutal, not lovers of the good, treacherous, rash, conceited, lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God - having the form of godliness but denying its power... always learning but never able to acknowledge the truth." (2 Timothy 3:2-7) Welcome to the year 2011.

The top stories today blatently declare our downward spiral. "Market Meltdown: Dow Plummets 634 points." "Chaotic Wave of Civil Disobedience:UK Riots Worst in Three Decades." "Black Man Run Down in Mississippi Hate Crime." "3.2 million People Starving in Somalia." This is not a dream. This is not a movie. This is both our physical and spiritual reality. Let us pray for what we really need; a little sense of guilt and shame can go a long way to mend a broken world. Should that fail, shakin’ the bleep out of some of us may be the next best bet.

The Christmas Letter, 2009

It's usually about this time when I start thinking about whether or not to send Christmas cards. This year, I posed a question on Facebook to friends and family, inquiring whether or not these holiday greetings are obsolete. With today's technology we can e-mail greetings, which is much more cost effective and saves trees. What about the Christmas letter? I remember growing up they would start rolling in by now, some as long as two single space pages, recounting the year's activities. There was the annual letter from an uncle and aunt, the RV champs from California. Their yearly life summary would be read Christmas Day with dramatic intonation and gestures to liven up a very droll report. Then there was the family friend, a Vietnam Vet who wrote the parody of the Christmas letter. As the years went on, his letters seemed to get more twisted and bizarre, always detailing extreme scenarios and vivid descriptions of personal events one never, ever wanted to know. The tradition, however varied, set the standard by which I would come to write my own.

As a traveling gypsy (now retired,) my family and friends grew to expect that I would invariably report at least one of three events every year: a new address, a new job, and at least one major drama. I doubt anyone has ever kept the complete assortment of these annual accounts, but the collection would be interesting to review, from a historical perspective, of course. Study would show a questionable pattern of living, one that was uncertain, unstable, unpredictable. If anything, these letters revealed that I was most surely coming undone. I imagine most of the recipients of these letters exhaled a deep sigh of concern or consternation upon reading my sordid tales, "Poor child. When will she ever settle down and normalize?" I am happy to report that in September of 2008 I completely unraveled, and have since begun the process of sowing a new pattern, one of deliverance, peace, and glorious moments of pure joy!

I will avoid detailing "my time away" as I've come to call it, but I will say this much: last September I had a transformational experience that shifted my consciousness so dramatically, those who knew me before this time would hardly recognize the new me were we to have an in- depth discussion on just about any subject. I view every aspect of living with different eyes, especially those two topics nobody ever wants to talk about over dinner: politics and religion. Before, I was a radically liberal, pro-choice, pro-whatever works for you, progressive democrat, universally circular on all matters traditionally unilateral, and would twirl and spin in the gray area just for the sake of argument. This consciousness was reflected in my lifestyle, and was as confusing and ambiguous as the former sentence. Now, I see things more clearly, fresh, new. I strip everything down to it's spiritual essence, to the fundamental and, as some may contend, narrow, simple truth. I expect I will lose friends because of this. It is written that those who follow this path with lose their life. Mothers will turn from their daughters, brother will be set against brother, husband against wife. I do not look forward to that time, if it should come, but I would gladly exchange my old life for what I have only begun to experience in this first year of my renewing.

With that said, I want to assure my family and friends, especially those who've know me since childhood that some things haven't changed: my sense of humor, my periodic urges to commit random acts of senseless spontaneity, my emotional sensitivity and deep compassion for those who are suffering. Even better, what was once lost, broken, corrupted, perverted, or hardened from life's trials, has returned. Hope. Great expectations. Belief in promises. I smile more, sometimes for so long my cheeks hurt (the muscles are unfamiliar with such strain, but they are stretching and strengthening with continued exercise.) I watch less drama, and seek out comedies, and yes, even musicals, ("The hills are alive/with the sound of music/aah-aaaaaaa-aah. That's how I feel!) Those desires from childhood that were rich and wonderful have come back to me. I wanna help people. I want to roll down hills and climb trees, and bake cookies. And I'm singing again, even making up my own songs! Though I'd choose the blues song "Good Morning Heartache" by Billie Holiday on karaoke night, I would do so only because I'm still an alto and I know all the words by heart.

Of course, having a four-year-old to play with makes all this change as accommodating as free shipping on Amazon (my shopping habits haven't changed either, I still don't like the mall, though I'll admit, I went twice in the last month and I didn't feel like I was going to hurt anybody.) This year she requested a guitar, a scooter, and a vacuum cleaner (? - yeh, I thought the same thing; my old women's liberation spirit reared her head on that last one.) I found two out of three on Amazon. If anyone knows how to tune a guitar, I'd appreciate a quick lesson. I also got her a full cleaning set, all pink. It comes with a vacuum, duster, broom & dustpan with the cart to hold everything. (It was less than $20, what can I say? At least, I know she's cultivating a clean spirit!) The big ticket item was a digital camera, as bulky as the first cellular phones ever made, one that can be dropped repeatedly without damage. This is in response to her incessant pleading at every photographic moment, "I wanna do it! Please mama, I'll be very careful." She looks at me with her academy award-winning puppy-dog eyes, and reaches for my antique 35 millimeter camera. Yeh, like that's ever gonna happen. "No, it's my camera! Mine!" (That childhood possessiveness has returned as well.) I am excited to give Edojah his gift; it's a classic. He's reading well, so I got him the choose-your-own adventure series that started my childhood love for reading. His birthday falls a few days after Christmas; I'm hoping to win on eBay his birthday gift; another classic, (I'm battling bids for battleship - one of the top three board games of all time, just after monopoly and scrabble.)

This year has been full of all the moments humans come to appreciate, especially during difficult times. Yes, 2009 has been trying, but the trials have exercised my strength and faith, and exorcised the demons of fear and doubt. The slide show below tells our story for the year. We have smiled from cheek to cheek, and leaped in the air for no apparent reason other than for the fun of it. We've also worried about our future, refused to smile, and mourned great loss, (rest in peace Grandpa.) Still, we celebrated birthdays, a new baby, (Rio's cousin) and weddings (brother on father's side, and sister on mother's side.) We played on the beach, went horse back riding, paddled down one river in Florida, and up another in Oregon, and enjoyed a road trip to see family (and father) in North Carolina. We played dress up, gave group hugs, planted seeds, and made peace. We glorified God in our songs of praise (and will again this weekend, pictures will be forthcoming) and showed faces full of love. These words and images are testimony to how good God has been this year, as He always has been, and always will be. I am so thankful that now I see. I mean, really see.

Have my external circumstances changed? No. I'm still underemployed (working part-time waiting tables at a local Mexican restaurant and as a writing lab specialist at Santa Fe College, helping students write their essays.) Karibi and I are divorced, finalized in March, (but if it's God's will, nothing is final.) I'm still uncertain about my direction. Where am I going? and How do I get there? are questions that remain unanswered, but now I am more confident in my guide. There is light above me, and in me, and though it has yet to shine upon the next step, I trust He will, and at just the right time.

I'm looking forward to Brianna's visit. She arrives from Cali on the 26th. I'd like to take a road trip up north to go play in the snow. That's my Christmas wish. In the coming year, I will strive to exercise more, eat breakfast every day, and reduce my just-before-bed munching (I haven't been delivered from that bad habit, but there are some battles I must fight on my own!) I plan to continue writing; I am now a "truthseeker" on www.cultureunplugged.com. As a regular contributor I get paid to write about media, film, culture and consciousness. It's my best (and first) paid writing gig yet! Thanks to those of you who have taken the time to read the articles I submit. Your comments are encouraging and add support to my value as a writer.

To all my friends and family who have not yet done so, (or tried, failed, tried again, fell, gave up and now don't know what to do,) I encourage you to come to the Father. Step out in faith, with a heart like a child. Consider it your second childhood! I pray you experience the hope and joy and peace in Christ; even though December 25th was not his actual birthday, it's as good a day as any to remember the spirit in which He came, as the ultimate Christmas present. His life and sacrifice is a gift "gooder" (as Grandpa Pete would say) than any man, woman or child could ever hope to receive, whether naughty or nice. Praise God that He loves us so much! May you accept His love, dwell in it, and share it with all you meet this season, and in the year to come.

The Fire This Time

Today, as I watch history from my laptop, I can't help but have concerns for our new president. Of course I take issue with the media. Not that I would expect anything less from corporate, but the contrived nature of the Obama coverage is tiring.  Because he's Black, every song in the audio video montage points to his race, which is important for several obvious reasons, but I wonder if we will allow him to be anything other than "the first black president?" 

Social constructions do nothing but perpetuate the status quo, regardless of the power behind the bearer of said label.  Labels limit, force conformity, pale in definition the true color of a person.  Most would argue that that is precisely why Obama's election is so significant; he is the personification of King's dream - elected for the content of his character, not the color of his skin.  I'd like to think that is true, but there are enough voters who said yes (or no) to him because of his skin.  Though it sounds good to say we are color blind, witness the coverage today: how often does the media make reference to his race, either through the music or through the voice of the public?  They are limiting him before he even gets started.  But it is not just the media - we are doing it too.

Great expectations often exceed the actual event.  I learned this on a trip from Orlando to Tampa, trying to make it to the beach before the sun.  I wanted to see it set, longed for the moment of peace I once took for granted as a child growing up on the Pacific coast.  That final two or three minutes of ending eased my anxieties, like the "ah-hah" moment at the end of a suspense thriller; satisfaction that the truth has finally being revealed.  I held this desire in my heart, building higher and higher with each mile.  Through the traffic on that long stretch of Clearwater highway, I started to worry I might miss it.  I became desperate, easily frustrated by other drivers.  But, despite my bad attitude, I made it to the beach, found a balcony and made myself comfortable to watch the main event.  It happened, and then it was over.  That peace I hoped for, didn't come.  Not because the sunset wasn't beautiful.  I simply wanted something that no single event can provide.  I sought peace.  What I got was a peaceful sunset.

We seek change, and expect our new leader to provide it. Obama cannot save us, yet we deceive ourselves if we believe he can.  When he doesn't - because no one man can -will we blame him? Shame on us if we do.  When we give someone so much power to lift us up out of the mire, we risk bringing the same person down with our disappointment.  This is unfair, and sets our leader up for failure before he even begins.  Love affairs almost always end up with pain because of the illusion of satisfaction.  When reality sets in, we point fingers at the magician, but we are responsible as we bought the ticket to witness the magic.

We must replace our trust and hope and faith in man and put it in it's proper place - the only One who can save from the mess we're in, political and social, but more importantly, our personal mess.  We have gotten into the habit of looking outside ourselves for change. But every good quote states otherwise - change must come from within.  Biblically put, we must become new creatures in Christ.

Unfortunately our country has lost it's sense of His presence - we've kicked God out of everything important in our lives and turned instead to worship idols.  Cable TV, movies, videos, games, books, drugs, alcohol, sex, anything that will help us escape from ourselves.  We spend our time doing what we believe is important and fit God in where we can.  God is secondary to our personal agendas.  But we'll be the first to complain when our escape route fails.  I worry that Obama has become our next escape.  We risk making him a scapegoat, a good man could be destroyed by the blazing pyre we built for him.  Some have made him into the messiah, but recall what happened to the true Christ.  The people crucified him! 

Let's not label him as such, not just because it's blasphemous, but because labels bind us to a set of societal expectations that are often contradictory to our true nature. We are spiritual beings born into physical bodies.  It is the world that makes our flesh more important, more valued, more inspirational, than our Creator.  If this is the road we are traveling, there is not much Obama can do to help - we're doomed before we get a chance to start anew.