Alas, this is a true story ...
My son is a thrill seeker, his body is not apt to give him any warning signals. Worse, if he sits still for too long his body is giving him hardly any signals... so he craves movement, speed, danger...
I am the opposite. I hate speed and the slightest touch or just being moved about frightens me. And such a 'slow mow' as I am... terrible. Looking after my son when he was a toddler was more than an ordinary challenge for this single mom.
My son did have his 'safe distance' as all toddlers have... the maximum distance that a child moves away from his mother, when out on the street and not corrected by an overprotective mom. His safe distance was around 150 meter [ 492.1259842519685 Feet :)) ] And he didn't respond to audio cues, he preferred visual information. Can you imagine a two year old, not apt to listen and with his back turned towards his mom... How much time would it take to stop him if he was about to do something dangerous?
Way too much, so that's why I took my son out on a leash, a toddler's leash. Oh, the comment people gave me. From the jokes about him being trained as a dog or us playing horsey, to downright denigrating remarks, that I was being insensitive and cruel. That my kid would learn nothing from this....
I just hated this short sightedness of others. How stupid can you be, judging someone else based on such little information, on looks alone... it marred my shopping trips.
I didn't just take my son out on his leash for shopping, the time when mother's get absorbed in their surrounding and take a risk at neglecting their child. I even took him out like that for our little walks to a nearby 'park'... an overgrown stretch of grass, with a few large trees, benches and a broad ditch..
On a beautiful autumn day I went to this park, my high spirited child hanging in his harness like a sled dog in training. From a distance I noticed him, with his girl friend.. They were sitting close to one another on the first bench of the park. I tried to decide on what to do... crossing the street was impossible, too much traffic. I could take the part of the sidewalk that ran past the park instead of through it, but even that was too obvious.. the best thing, I figured, was to walk past as quickly as I could and swallow the remarks about the leash, forgetting about them as quickly as I could. Because no doubt this huge punk with his lugubrious Gothic clothes would make the meanest remarks ever...
I took a deep breath and geared up, which wasn't hard thanks to my son pulling at his leash.
Yes, I was right... just as I passed the couple, the guy looked away from his girl friend. His eyes first rested on my son, then he looked me in the eye...
"Good for you ma'am, that you use a leash. My mom used it for me and it saved my life".
Where laziness of thought and accepting things 'because everyone says so' is unacceptable Where Science maybe right at times, but because of its rigidity in thinking [plowing on like a horse with blinders] and human personnel, it's bound to make big mistakes at times. Science has no right to dismiss older fields of (medical) research just because it doesn't fit between its own blinders. NB: I AM COVID vaccinated and NOT believing in QAnon stuff
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Wednesday, September 19, 2012
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
Back at the Well
Dear
God,
there
I am again,
fallen on my face, lying down at the bottom of the well. Bleeding and
sobbing. Deservedly so.
I
didn't trust you.
I summed up my dreams to you. But didn't really expect you to help me
fulfill them. Or not in time anyway... MY time, the timespan
calculated with my negative worldly viewpoint. I forgot how short
sighted that is and went ahead to meet my deadline. I am facing it
now... the first four letters taunting me.
I ripped my dreams out of your hands and set out to fulfill them myself. In a way so calculating and free from surprises, I left no room for romance, love and adventure. The detours that I love so dearly were cut off from my map. I was being the tour operator and forgot that tourists like scenic routes, not freeways embedded in sound screens.
My
hands are incapable,
my 'drive' is all gone. Except for a few tiny flames. The flames I
wanted to see soaring high, but that I almost quenched. Did you
preserve them for me? I thank you for it.
Regaining Sight |
I
hereby give you my dreams
and again I will not ask you to help me fulfill them. Because I TRUST
you to do so.
Sunday, September 9, 2012
The Woman at the Well
(c) Alette Stoutenbeek |
In
the room we are going to focus on the story depicted
in
this icon: the woman at the well. The icon is painted
by
Alette Stoutenbeek, who has been painting icons
for
several years now and even teaches it.
There
are strict rules for painting icons. One of those
rules
is that there's an element it that symbolizes Easter.
In
this icon it's the well, which has the shape of a cross.
At
first I felt disappointed about it, because I wanted
the
well to be the focal point of the meditation.
However
as I started to write I discovered that this
just
fits in beautifully.
A
well is a fantastically fascinating place. It's a place where sadness
and joy come together. Like at the cross that signifies the suffering
and dying of Christ, while it's also a symbol of his resurrection.
You
go looking for a well because you are thirsty. Or maybe you are
taking good care of yourself and you want to prevent getting thirsty.
And at the bottom of the well is the water that you need to pull
through, to carry on.
The
well, as seen in this picture, is more than just the water, the
headspring. It means others have been therre before you. When the
well wasn't there yet, they dug a pit and built the well, making it
easier for you to find and reach the water.
Not
so long ago I was deeply down in the dumps, or as the dutch would
say: sitting in the “put” [
= pit or well ],
so a friend told me “Cheer up Jo. I've been there so often. Try
to let your path unfold with little steps, don't force it. And keep
your eyes open for the beautiful surprises of life” Those words
impressed me, especially because I was so thirsty. I repeat them over
and over, even now that I'm well out of the well. When my friend was
thirsty he had to dig deep for water and built this well. Making it
easier for me to drink the water that I so desperately needed.
A
meditation about the story of the woman at the well. It's in John 4.
Most of us will know the story.
The
icon depicts the samaritan woman. Here she's standing. In other
paintings she's often kneeling down, her position lower than Christ,
whom she runs into as he is sitting at the well. Her low position
expresses her modesty, her sense of shame. That she harbours these
feelings is obvious from the words in the bible. She's surprised
about the fact that Jezus is asking her for water. She's used to
people looking down on her and has adopted the sense of shame that
her environment thinks 'befitting' her.
Yet
there is this beautiful power running through her. She's straight
and honest. She points out that she's a samaritan, that she feels
uncomfortable about a Jew accepting something to drink from her. And
she admits she's not married. She could have said her husband was
away on a journey. This woman is a very social person. She gives
Jezus what he wants. She doesn't like being alone, so she lives with
her 5th
partner! Accepting the negative consequences thereof. And finally,
at the end of the story, she shares her happiness and the good news
with others.
No
doubt she'll have her moments of being down caused by all the
criticism of her environment and of being critical about herzelf.
That is when she's coming down at the well The jug is empty, going
down. Good for her that she reaches the water, a full jug is moving
up again. Alas, this will only satisfy for a while. Repeatedly her
thoughts reach the same point, she's being thirsty again and kneels
down at the well.
Today
there's a man sitting by the well and he treats her with respect.
He's not looking down on her and accepts her gift. Admitted, he had
to coax her to give it to him. He knows her
.
Not her role in her society, or her -lacking- worldly success, but
the sensitive, loving woman behind all of that, the woman that she
IS. It's God's message: I knew you before you were born. I can see
through all those layers and I love what's behind them. That is the
person I created.
The
woman is receptive to the message. One can see the change coming over
her. Instead of needing encouragement to hand out water, she's now
being generous by herself. She goes back into her village, where
she's sharing the good news with others. She's full of charm now, her
magnetism has changed. When she comes back to the well it's not
because of thirst. She's guiding others who want to drink from that
same water, that will ban thirst forever. Did you notice? She's no
longer alone.
The
water Jezus spoke of is God's unconditional Love for us. A love that
sees right through our social standards to our soul.
God
knows as no other that here on earth we are often pushed into a
playing a part we didn't choose. Or didn't choose consciously. Which
often puts us in a situation that tempts us to act in a way that
we're accustomed to call 'sinful' . God is not so narrow minded that
he'll let his love for us depend on that. He loves us anyway. Any
way. Our part or position are no longer a curse, something to be
ashamed of, something that would make you 'unloveable'.
Because
of God's unconditional love our place on earth is no more than a
challenge to see how far we can get. In learning to live from a deep
well of power: Love.
God's
second largest command is “love thy neighbour as you love
yourself”. Sometimes the focus is misplaced and people make it
sound like “love thy neighbour more than yourself” and “be
good for your neighbour or else ...” God allows you to love
yourself just as much and as unconditional. He wants you you to,
because without it you will get depressed and tied down, making you
incapable of taking care of your fellow creatures. That is what being
'bound by sin' means and you'll be free from this if you
understand those words of Jezus and accept them. Not that you will
never commit a sin again... It just means that the act does not make
less as a person. You will still be loved inspite of it. Once
again: God knows WHO you are, he sees through all thelayers... amd
loves you. He's inviting us, through Jezus, to do the same. With our
neighbours and ourselves.
Love
is patient and kind.
Love
knows neither envy nor jealousy.
Love
is not forward and self-assertive,
nor
boastful and conceited.
She
does not behave unbecomingly,
nor
seek to aggrandize herself,
nor
blaze out in passionate anger,
nor
brood over wrongs.
She
finds no pleasure in injustice done to others,
but
joyfully sides with the truth.
She
knows how to be silent.
She
is full of trust, full of hope,
full
of patient endurance.
[1
Corinthians 13;4-7]
Discussion:
1) Would
you ever go back to the well again if you were convinced beyond
doubt that all your difficult moments harbour something good? Like
the chance -for you or someone else- to grow spiritually.
Would
you ever go back to the well again if you were convinced beyond
doubt that God loves you? Whether directly or through someone else on
earth, even though your part in life is but a small one?
In
other words, would you ever be down again, if you felt loved or had a
sense of fulfilment all
the time
?
2)
Actually... the well is a beautiful spot. Because it's only when we
aren't happy, but thirsty, we start searching for our power,
recognise it and embrace it. Could we be happy, if we weren't
unhappy from time to time?
Homework:
1) When
you are down in the dumps, check your thoughts. Are they yours, or
are you applying the world's rules on yourself ?
2)
When you run into someone who is thirsty, very thirsty ... dig way
deep, for the soul of this 'Samaritan' . Through the layers of our
society, until you the person that God sees. With all this digging
you build the well the other can drink from.
Or
tie an extra long rope to your jug, so you can be sure to reach the
living water no matter how deeply tucked away in the other. There is
clear water in everyone, but in some it's further down.
You
might like to read Sirach
11:1-13
JoAnne
Lakefield
Saturday, September 8, 2012
The Impatient Gardener
For years she had kept the tending of her garden to a minimum. But there was no more escaping it: the garden was getting overgrown. The weeds that had been blown in and settled uninvitedly were now choking the plants that were put in by choice. It was time to get out the gloves, pruner and spade. Time to make room again for beauty and harmony.
It wasn't an easy job, but she got it done with the help of a friend. The heavy physical work she had enjoyed. It was harder when she ran into the little plastic pots with plants her mother chose a year ago, before her illness forced her to move out. The plants were left unattended, only one little 'Broken Heart' survived. The daughter decided the Broken Heart could stay. Funny, she now realised that most of the plants she had ripped out of the ground and thrown on the pile outside her garden were plants her mother had chosen. Her mother had always been the one who arranged the garden.
But now the daughter was in charge of it herself, being very critical as to which plants were allowed to stay. Surprisingly few. That at least gave room to put in a lot of new "choicelings". She went down on her knees and dug little holes in the black earth to plant the seeds she had bought, or put in the small cuttings her friends had donated. Doing so was fun, she had visions of what they would be like, once they were full grown.
She got up, scratched, sore and dirty, her work all done for now. With a satisfied sigh she looked at the result. Her mental picture of a sweet scented place rich in colors is gone, ridiculed by the dark and barren state the garden was in now. It was even less inviting than when it was overgrown.
That is the trying part of being a gardener... putting in hard work and hours of tending seeds that are invisible, somewhere in the cold earth. You have no guarantee that they will turn out as magnificently as you hoped for.
There's no luscious shade, scent or color now. And you cannot dig up the seeds to see if the roots are promising you any success. If you would...they'd die. There's only blind trust and loyalty to see you through this time of starting a new life.
It wasn't an easy job, but she got it done with the help of a friend. The heavy physical work she had enjoyed. It was harder when she ran into the little plastic pots with plants her mother chose a year ago, before her illness forced her to move out. The plants were left unattended, only one little 'Broken Heart' survived. The daughter decided the Broken Heart could stay. Funny, she now realised that most of the plants she had ripped out of the ground and thrown on the pile outside her garden were plants her mother had chosen. Her mother had always been the one who arranged the garden.
But now the daughter was in charge of it herself, being very critical as to which plants were allowed to stay. Surprisingly few. That at least gave room to put in a lot of new "choicelings". She went down on her knees and dug little holes in the black earth to plant the seeds she had bought, or put in the small cuttings her friends had donated. Doing so was fun, she had visions of what they would be like, once they were full grown.
She got up, scratched, sore and dirty, her work all done for now. With a satisfied sigh she looked at the result. Her mental picture of a sweet scented place rich in colors is gone, ridiculed by the dark and barren state the garden was in now. It was even less inviting than when it was overgrown.
That is the trying part of being a gardener... putting in hard work and hours of tending seeds that are invisible, somewhere in the cold earth. You have no guarantee that they will turn out as magnificently as you hoped for.
There's no luscious shade, scent or color now. And you cannot dig up the seeds to see if the roots are promising you any success. If you would...they'd die. There's only blind trust and loyalty to see you through this time of starting a new life.
Jo
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