Mapless

Victory??

2011-05-01T21:03:00.001-07:00

I suppose I ought to pop in here once in awhile. :) I started back to school the last week of March. I love my classes, and initially I did pretty well managing my time. However, my research writing class has proven to be quite time consuming, and I between classes and managing my family I haven't had much time for anything else.

However, something got my attention tonight. Tonight, I hear that we (America) have killed Osama Bin Laden.

I have mixed feelings.

People are partying in the street, letting off fireworks, celebrating at the White House. While I understand the sentiments, I am not sure how much I am with them.

It seems so much retaliatory, and not really serving any purpose, other than a symbolic one. Part of me feels strongly that he ought to have been treated as a war criminal and tried for his crimes against humanity. I don't know that summarily assassinating this man accomplishes much.

I hear that we have "custody of his body". I'm not sure how we have managed that, and I'm not sure why, other than to carry out DNA confirmation of his identity. But what good does his body do us? Do we plan to display his head on a stick? If anything, we are likely to greatly anger some foreign communities with this admission.

Some may say that we now are free of his brand of terrorism, but we all know that for every Bin Laden, there are 10 more just like him. I doubt that any of his plans, large or small, will come to a screeching halt with his death. If anything, his cohorts will be even more determined to carry out any forthcoming plan against America or its citizens, or any other part of the western world.

But neither is it my wish to devalue the service of the men and women in our military who are making such enormous sacrifices fighting a war they may or may not believe in. (Sounds familiar.) I always appreciate that the men and women of our armed forces don't get to choose our wars; they only must fight them when so ordered. I value their commitment, integrity, and strength in this war.

I can only hope that there will be something good come of this. Maybe it will be a greater sense of American unity, maybe it will grant us some measure of closure as a people. Maybe it will bring us closer to an end to this war.

Transitions

2011-03-29T21:06:00.000-07:00

There have been some transitions going on lately in my life. My grandmother died a few weeks ago, and while not unexpected, there is the grief to deal with. I hate to see my mom grieving more than anything, because I know there is nothing I can do to fix it for her. I just have to let it take its course. But I wish I could do more than I am.

We have all been sick in recent weeks. My teenager had pneumonia, and then my other son and I had some bacterial yuck that took almost 4 weeks to get over.

My younger son had minor surgery last week to treat ankyloglossia (tongue tie). He has been in speech therapy for 9 years, and we finally decided to treat his speech impediments (r's and l's) surgically. We learned something we didn't know...my son's tongue is attached almost all the way across. (Most people just have a thin tendon). So the surgery was more involved than we expected, as has been the residual pain. Fortunately we had opted to have the procedure during spring break, and he is doing pretty well now. His speech therapist was excited, and he can finally stick his tongue out! This is a big deal for an 11 year old.

I started school again today. As you may remember, I returned to college in 2009, after 20 years out of school. I took 8 classes last year and got straight A's (perfect marks). I was really proud of my ability to conquer this. I applied last year for a restricted entry program, for which I was accepted to begin fall 2010. There were 120 applicants and 32 spots, so I was excited and honored to be accepted. However, some changes in our financial situation made it impossible for me to begin the program and I had to withdraw.

I took fall and winter terms off school, but have been able to return this term. I have reapplied for the same program for fall 2011 entry, and have met with the director. She assures me my chances are good, and I am hopeful. However, if the competition is anything like last year, I won't count my chickens before they hatch. I have an academic plan B, but I really hope not to use it.

This term I have a writing class (research), a sociology class, and a psychology class. I had my first classes today, and I think it's going to be a good term. I'm really happy not to have any math or science classes!

So that's what's going on with me. What's new with you?

The Apparent Purpose of Lent

2011-03-14T17:37:00.000-07:00

My concern isn't specifically for this girl. I do not know her, her history, or her motivation. However, there is an evident mentality here, one that I have had to renounce in my own process of deconversion.

Seven years ago, I might well have agreed with her, or at least given lip-service to that perspective while inside I died a little. I certainly was around people on a regular basis who would have agreed completely.

What terrible twisting of the bible has taken place in order for Christians to rejoice at the suffering of others? How is it possible to so overlook the mission of love that Jesus, according to the bible, seemed to be on?

I'd love to say I'm completely stumped as to the answers to those questions, but unfortunately I know all too well, and am ashamed to admit it.

What's Wrong With this Picture?

2011-03-14T13:04:00.000-07:00

ht Hemant Mehta

How many things can you find wrong with this video?

OK, I admit "wrong" is subjective, but I think most of you will have the same views I do.

Remembering Life

2011-03-08T21:05:00.000-08:00

My grandmother passed away the other day. She was my mother's mother, and my last living grandparent. She was 88 years old and had a good life. In her last years, and especially the last months, she was increasingly afflicted with dementia, and her passing is a blessing to her and her caregivers.

Two weeks ago she fell and broke her leg, and had to have surgery to repair it. She then experienced a cascade of complications, and after a few days the decision was made to discontinue life-prolonging measures. She was ready; always asking for her husband, who passed almost three years ago.

On the morning of Friday, March 4th, she left this world peacefully. This week, we are planning her funeral, to be held on Friday. I have written her obituaries, and today helped my mom and my aunt and my cousin order flowers for the service, which will be held at the church where my grandparents were life-long members. There will be uncountable numbers of family there, from all over, because she deeply touched every life she met.

She taught Sunday school to four year olds in her church for over 40 years, and she was always proud of that accomplishment. She loved the children.

She was an avid gardener, and loved her flowers and her vegetable garden. Pansies were her favorites.

She was a musician, quite talented on the piano and organ.

She was a historian, documenting all the lives around her for decades.

She had a remarkable sense of humor, and I scarcely believe a time when she did not make me laugh.

She was wise and had insight that was priceless.

She had collections, one for every month of the year, that she would display around her house. I don't remember them all, but January was snowmen, February was cupids, March was leprechauns...etc.

She was an artist, crafter and seamstress. I used to wear clothes made by her when I was a girl. I wore them proudly, because she was so talented.

I don't post this to elicit sympathy, for I am not sad. I am grateful for the years she gave us here on this earth, the decades she nurtured us, fed us, clothed us, played for us and with us, laughed with us, and loved us. However, she ceased being the woman who was my grandmother some time ago. She was quite ready to move on. Please don't say you are sorry, for I am not.

What I would really like, if you feel inclined to comment, is to share a fond memory of one of your grandparents or other wizened person in your life. It would mean a lot to me that we share the ways in which the people in our lives who have had more years of experience than we have are able to touch us, help us grow, comfort us, or laugh with us.

Thank you.

A Year of Sundays

2011-02-18T09:35:00.000-08:00

Somehow in my internet travels, I came across this website a few days ago:

A Year of Sundays

"We go to church so you don't have to."

"Every week for a year, we’re going to visit a different church...Since we’re both the kind of impious delinquents who get our thrills pissing people off, this blog won’t be for the religiously faint of heart...We write our reviews with one criterion in mind. Regarding humankind’s amazing variety of music, Duke Ellington famously said, “if it sounds good, it is good.” That’s the benchmark we will use to evaluate every religious service we attend...Oh, and one last thing. We believe that God, if he or she exists, probably has a secure ego. We doubt that his (or her) feelings could possibly be hurt by anything we could write."

In other words, these two individuals are going to visit one church (or church-like spiritually observant locality) each Sunday for a year. Then, they are going to write about it. They began in January.

They are clear that they aren't judging the churches based on theology. They are attending the services, often not particularly knowledgeable about the religious beliefs of the church, and are judging each service primarily on how it comes across to them.

Aside from the encouraging fact that these two are fairly unafraid to be sacrilegious or blasphemous, the really cool and exciting thing is...

They are HERE, in PORTLAND.

However, I don't think their thoughts and experiences are entirely irrelevant to people outside of our metro area. It could be an interesting study in what church and religious services are like to the outsider.

So far their posts about each church are entertaining, informative, and offer fascinating perspective. However, as they say, you may want to don a pair of steel-toed boots if you are particularly devout.

I, for one, look forward to reading more.

New Address

2011-02-10T11:02:00.000-08:00

I have sent the address of my new blog space to everyone who asked. If I missed you, it wasn't deliberate; please let me know at erinword at gmail dot com and I'll send you the link.

I will still be posting here at Mapless, too.

If you have any questions, feel free to drop me an email.

Thanks for all the love and support, friends.

Update

2011-02-05T21:36:00.000-08:00

***It's taking a little longer than I thought it would to get set up, because I'm waiting on my "tech support guy" to have a chance to set up the domain on our servers. So it still might be a few days. Don't worry, if you have asked, you WILL get a link.

I hate to do this; it has always been my policy here to be transparent. However, It has caused me too many issues to write about the recent subject matter so publicly. It's important to me to write and to have feedback and support, but I also need to have some measure of control for the time being. It's not about being afraid of saying what I think, and it's not about silencing me. It just is the way it needs to be, for now.

So, as you may have noticed, I have had to unpublish my most recent post series. In a few days, they will be republished at a new, undisclosed blog location. I cannot republish the comments, but I have saved them and will post the text of them there.

If you would like to know the location, send me an email at erinword at gmail dot com, or leave your email address in the comments and I'll send you the link.

Most anyone is welcome. Please feel free to ask, don't be shy. However, I am not sending a mass invite because I don't want to assume who may want to read my ramblings there.

The new space is not private, but is at an address that I am not going to make public right now. I will continue to write on this subject matter there.

I am not closing this blog, only moving the most recent sensitive subject matter.

It will be a few days before the new space is ready.We have to set up the new domain and then I have to publish the content. So please be patient if you don't hear from me for a few days.

Thanks for being my friends.

The Post Series I Hate but Have to Write, Part IX

2011-02-02T21:17:00.000-08:00

This post has been moved.

The Post Series I Hate but Have to Write, Part VIII: The Reality

2011-02-01T20:58:00.000-08:00

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The Post Series I Hate but Have to Write, Part VII

2011-01-29T12:37:00.000-08:00

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The Post Series I Hate but Have to Write, Part VI

2011-01-28T18:50:00.000-08:00

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The Post I Hate but Have to Write, Part V

2011-01-28T18:43:00.000-08:00

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The Post Series I Hate but Have to Write, Part IV

2011-01-26T21:46:00.000-08:00

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I'm All Out of Faith

2011-01-26T07:43:00.000-08:00

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The Post Series I Hate but Have to Write, Part III

2011-01-25T22:45:00.000-08:00

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The Post Series I Hate but Have to Write, Part II

2011-01-24T22:35:00.000-08:00

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The Post Series I Hate but Have to Write, Part I

2011-01-23T16:55:00.000-08:00

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Awake and Alive

2011-01-19T22:46:00.000-08:00

In contrast to my last post, I have to wonder how much did we really know about ourselves, our dreams and visions when we were 19 -- that we were forced to deny as we grew into adulthood? Is it possible those things are truly "us", even if those things do not fit into our present reality? Do we relate to the person we were when we were younger better than we relate to ourselves today? Do we see that somewhere in the past we had to choose between two dreams that were in conflict with each other; that it was impossible to have both? Do we now regret the choice we made? Did we make a choice that was contrary to the wisdom of our elders? If so, why?

All of the above questions bring discontent. In another word, regret. Looking back at all the things that could have been, and finding today that those things will never again be.

Unfortunately, I don't have answers to those questions. I don't think anyone ever will. We can't go back and try again. I don't think anyone has any delusions of that. We all understand that the regrets, the unfulfilled dreams and the what-ifs are all a part of adulthood. It's a rare individual who has done and achieved all he has ever dreamed. We know this deeply, in our heart and soul. And we grow and mature from the pain those lost dreams have left in us.

Finding a 'spiritual center' is, in my mind, fundamental to countering the discontent we might find in midlife (and in other times of life, as well). Not necessarily a theist or deist center, but a concept of life greater than ourselves. it could be humanism, it could be panentheism. It could take countless other forms.

However, what if we cannot identify that spiritual center? How long do we wander before we give up finding that place that completes us, and settle for something less than? It's the tension between not having that center and unfulfilled dreams that can really shake us.

Religiously speaking, I have spent my life in "less than". I was convinced by "those in the know" that Christianity would complete me, it would fill those voids left behind by unfulfilled dreams, that it would cure my discontent. I heard countless biblical teachings on discontent, but couldn't ever find the place where God took over and I could let go of my dreams. He failed me, at least in that regard, if not in so many others.

The hopes I planted in my faith eventually drug me down. Those hopes nearly killed me, in more ways than one. In the end, those hopes haven't brought anything but disappointment. As I have shared before, I don't have THAT God. Either I'm doing something wrong or God isn't really who everyone says he is; he isn't who the bible says he is. I spent the better part of 30 years trying to make him be what everyone said he was, but he just, well, wasn't. It has taken six years of sorting through the disappointment and grief to find what truly lies underneath it all.

There is no longer any grief, only a sense of time wasted and wishing things had been different. I have sought but not found any center to replace the one I've lost. I have hoped that there could be some other center that would draw me in with it's gravity and find me a god to call mine. But I prance around the edges of commitment to anything, because everything I have tried hasn't fit. I used to know what size I wore, but it seems that I have grown. The further I explore, the more disheartened I become that there is any religious expression that would fill me. There are so very many options, but no right option. Yes, some would say I should simply choose something and stick to it, that options are our downfall. I say if it doesn't stick to the ribs of our soul, it's artificial and not worth the effort.

Discontentment can drag into depression, or challenge us to seek the deeper remedy within ourselves. For myself, I know very much of my discontent comes from the lack of spiritual expression. I have been aware of this for the years since I left the church, but have not yet found the expression that fulfills me. Perhaps it doesn't exist, but I refuse to give up hope that I will find it. I know myself too well to believe that the spiritual part of myself must be buried because I cannot find a place to put it.

Discontinuity

2011-01-18T21:26:00.000-08:00

HT The Blog for Why Won't God Heal Amputees

The Winter of my Discontent

2011-01-16T23:33:00.000-08:00

We don't talk about it.

Not in polite company, anyhow.

And needless to say, we love our children, we love our spouses. We love many things.

But then there are those things. The things that haunt the dreams, the things that culminate in middle-aged depression. Those things that creep into the shadows of our discontent, and become poisonous leeches in our soul; threatening to capsize our way of life.

The things that, when we were 19 or 25, we were certain we would do, someday. The things that are our purpose, our mission, our calling. Those things that our life couldn't possibly result in NOT being, because those things are who we are, integrally, intrinsically.

But we are told along the way, or maybe we learn by osmosis through the languishing of older people we know, who wag their wise fingers and say, "Be content. Love the life you live", that those things are childish fantasy, and we must soon learn to live in the real world -- the mature world.

But somehow, you cannot. You don't love the life. You hate to bake, you do not sew; hell you don't even own a machine. You don't like domesticity, not one iota. Or you hate your job, but cannot escape it because it pays the bills or because you aren't trained for anything else. And yet, it seems to think it is what you signed up for. And you regret it. Or maybe you just signed up for it a mite too soon, before the dreams had a chance to take flight and tire you out. Or flesh themselves out into some alternate version of reality.

And at 40, we begin to realize that someday will never come. We will never be who we thought we would be when we were 19, or 25.

We have mortgages and grocery bills and marriages and commitments. We may have chosen them, or they have chosen us, or we may have wandered blindly into them, once upon a time when we believed we knew what we wanted but really knew nothing at all.

Sometimes those things awaken us in the night. Those things. Those things, that in the reality of our best optimism will never come to pass. Those things that we define ourselves by, even if they have never materialized.

And yet, somewhere along the way, we learn that, quite possibly, those unrealized dreams are nothing more than fantasy. We might see the fork in the road in perfect hindsight. We may know exactly what we would have done differently. But we also know that life isn't a 'Choose Your Own Adventure' book; least of not having any chance to go back and try again. We cannot ever know what direction those forks in the road may have actually taken us. Possibly somewhere greater than we imagined. Just as likely, not.

What is sensibility? When are we to be old enough to give up on the old dreams? When might we learn that quite possibly there ought to be new, more manageable, more achievable dreams ought to replace them?

Because I haven't learned it yet, apparently. As much as my intellect screams at me for being a spoiled brat, I cannot find smaller dreams that have the potential to fulfill me. And yet, that same intellect tells me I'm doomed for disappointment and ought to stand down and be content.

Well. I'm decidedly not content. Polite company or not, I have dreams on this mountain of mine. Dreams that are MINE. Dreams that are not driven by the demands of others. Dreams that I still shake my fist at, dreams that still see me stand and holler that I WILL catch up to them some day, before I die.

"I have dreamed on this mountain,
since first I was my mother's daughter,
and you can't just take my dreams away,
not with me watching.
You may drive a big machine,
but I was born a great big woman,
and you can't just take my dreams away,
not with me fighting.
This old mountain raised my many daughters,
some died young – some are still living,
but if you come here to take our mountain,
well we ain't come here to give it.
I have dreamed on this mountain,
since first I was my mother's daughter,
and you can't just take my dreams away,
not with me watching.
No you can't just take my dreams away,
without me fighting.
No you can't just take my dreams away."
-- 'Mountain Song' by Holly Near,
-- as performed by Star Nayea & Primeaux & Mike
-- from 'Sacred Ground: a Tribute to Mother Earth'

I am still seeking that which will fulfill me. That thing that is attainable, that will cause my unrealized dreams to fade into the past as a new and realized dream takes its place. For that is the true stepping stone, a bridge between the past and the present. The thing, this, the one thing that will fill the gaping void of what never came to pass with contentment and peace. Maybe we didn't know as much when we were 19 or 25 as we like to think we knew.

I don't think we can really begin to know our purpose until the middle of life comes and goes. Only then will we, perhaps in light of the wisdom of what we have dreamed but know will never be, understand what is meant to be. And those new dreams move mountains.

Some call it a mid-life crisis. I call it a great awakening.

It's that time!

2011-01-03T07:56:00.000-08:00

The presents are open, the carols are sung, the tree is put away, the champagne has been sipped...now it's that most wonderful time of the year, when all good geeks hold their breath for the future of gadgetry.

Yes, it's almost time for CES 2011!!

Ooh what toys and joys will be unveiled? What cool new geek tools will we be dreaming about a week from now? It eases the let down from the holidays to catch a glimpse of the amazing things that will be on many Christmas lists come December.

I'm a geek and proud of it.

A New Year for Me

2010-12-29T13:52:00.000-08:00

Happy Birthday to me!

In about 4 hours, I will have completed my 40th journey around the sun. On to the second half of life!

I'm seeking new wisdom, learning to be more honest with myself and others, and hoping to chase some of the dreams I have neglected so far.

I appreciate old friends who have stuck by me forever, never giving up on me.

I value the new friends who have broadened my horizons, opened my mind and my world.

I am grateful for all the blessings I have found, and I hope to give back a little more in the coming years.

If you are reading this, thank you for being my a part of my life.

Winter's Light

2010-12-23T06:00:00.000-08:00

This year, the truth I believe has always been inside me.

In my heart, in my soul, in my being.

There is no longer any external Truth.

This new truth changes everything.

This season, I wish you truth, above all.

May your truth be the light of your world.

May the joy of the season draw those you love in close to you.

May the fire warm you, may the wind carry you;

may the love envelop you.

May the winter's light reveal shadows yet to be illuminated.

May you find peace in reflection,

and hope in expectation of the year to come.

I wish you Merry Christmas.

May all else this season might bring to you be blessed.

Permission Granted

2010-12-20T21:43:00.000-08:00

**I've been writing this post for over a week now, and still don't feel like it's finished, but maybe it's good enough.

These days I'm actually thankful my regular followers have dwindled. I have always believed in having here a safe space for the questioners, the wanderers, the heretics. However, over the years I have gathered and lost many readers who are still devout; this is why I'm glad their numbers have faded. Not because I don't love them, but because I don't want to trip up people who are in full possession of their certainties. Because I'm not.

Lately I have been on a quest to be true to myself, no matter the cost. Not in all areas of life, mind you, but in the area of spirituality. In recent weeks I've been trying to clarify where the chips have fallen, and have been making the effort to give myself permission to be honest with myself.

The other day, a post by David Hayward, aka the Naked Pastor really hit home. I don't presume to know precisely his meaning, but I know what it meant to me. It meant 'permission granted'. Finally. Why did I need permission? Well , let me quote a bit of it, and maybe you'll understand.

"You have come to realize, after serious study, thought and brutal self-honesty, that the beliefs you've held on to are now bankrupt. They used to be valuable to you. But now they are worthless. You know the honest thing to do is to dump them."

Something in those words unlocked a door for me. The truth is, I have known I wasn't a Christian since I was a teenager. However, the reality of admitting that at any time in my past would have been devastating and impossible. I was far too bent towards the expectations of others. I tried very hard to be a Christian, just because I thought that's what I was supposed to do; not because it really meant something to me. for awhile, being a part of a charismatic denomination convinced me that my true, honest spirit was really Satan telling me lies. I fought it with all I had, and in the end, that fight damn near killed me. My spirit is has a broader wingspan and is far more mystical than any dogma, and would not be contained.

I have tried to retain some version of belief for these last years, primarily from fear of the alternative -- having to admit to others that I no longer possess belief. I have sought the middle ground between religious and atheist. I always believed it existed and somewhere I would find it. Inevitably, I have released religion and all it's trappings, completely. I chose the other path. But you already knew that. And yet, I'm not fully on any path, or at least not as defined by anyone else. I'm okay with that. Atheists would never embrace me, because I willfully choose to retain the mystery of what we do not yet understand; knowing full well that I'm atheist of any definition of God that would have me, but also believing that when I die, there is something beyond. There is -after.

In conversations of late, I have been known to say that I believe God is created out of a connection that we feel, that we cannot deny, but that is, in essence, biological in nature. We do not know the scientific manifestation of love, but we know it exists. In that way, I know God exists. In other words, God is within us -- but not in the incarnational sense. It's more a neurological process that we do not yet understand. Ancient people created the Gods of history in this space because they had no other way to relate to it. However, as intelligence and knowledge has increased, we have come to learn that there is no white-beardy guy in the sky who is playing chess with us. Instead, God is that which is inherent in us that causes goodness and kindness, but also the sense of connectedness to nature and one another that we tangibly feel. I call this "Creator", not because it has created in the biblical sense, but because it is the force that causes us to create - art, relationships, learning - it causes us to want to know more, be more. It is the desire to make progress, to grow, to connect in deeper and more meaningful ways. It is the longing to serve others, to be to them whatever we are able. I believe, for my own life, that Jesus, whether real or imagined on some level, is the clearest example of that force, how it should operate and behave.

Who was Jesus? I'm not right sure. I do believe he was someone that regular folk were impressed enough by to write about him. I believe he turned some tables over, but people were far more preoccupied by the tables than what the act really meant, and therefore his existence has not been preserved accurately. Instead he has been shaped by agenda and fear and the loss of time. How did he know to turn the tables over? Probably, he was a revolutionary and had seen first hand the damage done by the religion of the day. Conceivably, he was more than all that, because something draws me to him yet. But I believe most of religion has missed his point entirely...and I seek to rediscover that point in my own life. The first step is freedom. Jesus ,to me, is an example to follow, not a dogma to cling to.

Quite new-agey, right? Maybe from a listeners perspective; not from my own. But, then, the term "God" is always and entirely user defined, and I have defined mine. While I believe there is a force that is greater than the sum of our knowledge, and I believe that force is benevolent, it is not the God of any religion. I believe science is able to move us always toward a new understanding of the cosmos, but that understanding is always fluid. I believe that understanding as it is revealed refuses to deny the reality of something bigger than ourselves. What, exactly, remains to be seen. The universe is the great Creator -- it gives life because of a process it cannot stop and cannot control, and never consciously began. It just IS. Or, "I AM". I find God in the stars and trees and rivers and wind -- not because those things are gods, but because there is LIFE in them. Origins, freedom, motion and mystery.

The point of my post is that somehow in the last weeks I have come across something that has freed me to admit the whole truth. While I haven't chosen a defined -ism and will be the last to jump onto any bandwagon, I have found words that give permission to where my spirit lies. However, I'm not going to tell you what those are, because above all, I believe the spiritual journey is highly personal and it's highly likely you might misunderstand me to be a subscriber of something I am not.

While I will always continue to seek, I have discovered something in myself. I can't believe it's taken six years to get to this point. Then again, I can. It's a long journey, unfolding. It's unlearning decades of beliefs, and opening my arms wide to what I've always known -- that Creator is out there in the spaces between religion and science, filling in the gaps as a placeholder until the two shall meet.

As always, I reserve the right to change my mind tomorrow. However, I feel more peace and wholeness than I have any time in these nearly six years. I have given myself permission to believe what I believe and to feel what I feel and to know what I know, without having to put it into any box.

It is a neverending story, and I look forward to it's continued unfolding.