Loving the Sacred through Word and Image. The Ferryland – New Foundland Iceberg Easter 2017. A Word Press Production.

Astral Traveling

The last nap …

So, if we are being realistic, this afternoon I took my last power nap. Seeing tomorrow we are all gonna die, some of us have first class seats on the rapture express to heaven, and then the rest of us will be stuck here to live in hell until the end of the world in October.

I had only one thing on the table for tonight, and that was a meeting. I got up earlier today and farted around, I am not one for usual daytime tv, since I am a night person. So I checked my mail, did some surfing on the web and decided to take a three hour nap before having to get up and prepare to go out this evening.

I must have been channeling the apocalypse because I had this very vivid dream which I know I was dreaming because I brought it out into the waking state and it is still in the front of my brain at this hour.

I was on this planet and everything was laid wasted and I was on this continuum of movement. I was on this train of movement. And things around us were in flux and the more I moved forwards the more things were changing, being destroyed and being recreated at the same time. Everything around me was moving.

As we moved forwards I could see things being built again from scratch and forming here and there as I moved through this “space” then I was on the shore of the ocean and a bridge went up and we were building the bridge. Then we were back on land and pictures of things were passing us by. I could see the pictures and what they were, people and places. Then I was in this huge crafting room and watching markers and paints pass by and as they did, I could collect some of them for myself, I don’t know why I was collecting them, but I did.

The continuum kept moving forwards and I was on this moving platform. Then we moved through this manufacturing building making ovens and ice cream makers, I knew what they were because I once worked in an ice cream shop as a teen-ager.

It was all very colorful and weird at the same time. It just kept going on and on, and I was roped into my place on the line and I could see people I knew moving past me on other lines. It was all very strange.

Things were changing and moving. People were coming and going. I couldn’t stop people on their trains, as I could not stop mine. And as things were destroyed and recreated the colors were amazing – I kept noticing things that I recognized as I moved from here to there.

It was almost an astral projection. And maybe it could have been. I don’t usually bring forth technicolor dreams like this, I usually forget them quickly after waking. Maybe because the world is fixated on the end of the world, the dream stayed present.

*** *** *** ***

I got up when the alarm went off and I got in the shower and prepped to go.

I made all my connections and got to the meeting at half past eight. It was a good meeting. Tonight’s speaker was the fiance of the young man who spoke last Friday night at that same meeting. Just a couple years sober, her story was all over the place. It was insane. Listening to newbies speak is painful, add to that the fact that she is a slipper and is fresh in the program and she is telling her story and I was stuck there in this spot identifying with her on many topics that she brought up.

It all came out in the laundry. I did some of the same things she did in early sobriety. Some of those things are not recommended, but for some it works out. Hopefully this is the last time for her to get sober, she might not make it back again. And wouldn’t that be terrible since she is marrying a member in just a few months time.

Oh well, we hopes and prays for them.

That was my day.

More to come, stay tuned…


Pity …

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Pity: sympathetic or kindly sorrow evoked by the suffering, distress, or misfortune of another, often leading one to give relief or aid or to show mercy: to feel pity for a starving child.

Mark 1:40-45

A Man With Leprosy

A man with leprosy came to him and begged him on his knees, “If you are willing, you can make me clean.”[moved with pity] Filled with compassion, Jesus reached out his hand and touched the man. “I am willing,” he said. “Be clean!” Immediately the leprosy left him and he was cured.

Jesus sent him away at once with a strong warning: “See that you don’t tell this to anyone. But go, show yourself to the priest and offer the sacrifices that Moses commanded for your cleansing, as a testimony to them.” Instead he went out and began to talk freely, spreading the news. As a result, Jesus could no longer enter a town openly but stayed outside in lonely places. Yet the people still came to him from everywhere.

Looking at today’s Gospel reading from the book of Mark, Jesus meets a man with leprosy, and being filled with Love [As Jesus always looks upon people with love] he heals the man. Another translation of this same passage Jesus is “moved with pity” The entire meaning of the passage is turned upside down with the mention of the word pity.

The man did not follow the warning of Jesus not to tell anyone, but he chose to talk freely spreading the news of his healing. Would you be able to contain yourself and not talk if Jesus had come upon you and made you well???

One of my fellow pilgrims wrote about pity on his blog about me after our last round of writing on the sacred where he says

“And every time I read his post I feel blue for a day.  What a life he’s had.  I’m sure the Pilgrim neither needs nor desires my pity… what an ugly word that is.”

It is not my intention to move people to pity me or my story. It happened that way, I had no control over how things turned out I just lived it as it came. And there was a time when AIDS was at its height in America that pity was something that some felt towards us. There is the pity that looks down its nose at you with a sneer, it is condescending and meaningless. I don’t know if you can give Pity a genuine meaning.

I think it took pity to move a people into a place that they could find themselves useful in the fight against disease. It could be any disease you can think of. I think we all try to give relief or aid or to show mercy to those who are sick or dying. Pity is not something I think about – and unless you bring up the topic, I can safely say that I don’t bring it up either.

We all have stories to tell. Some are more intense than others. I’ve never embellished my stories. They stand on their own without any help by me, the writer.

I have learned about Jesus and the fact that Jesus always looks with Love on his people. That is something that Monsignor Harty always said to us in class. And you can hear that sentiment shared by Ron Rolheiser as well. Jesus always looks upon us with LOVE. What a difference one word makes in a sentence.

We all know people who are sick in one way or another. And the best we can do for them is to offer our prayers and to look upon them with Love. You know, I don’t think that many of us think about pity, when it comes down to fighting for ones life. I’ve never heard the word come up in conversations with my friends who are sick.

I do feel a kind of sorrow with my friends who are sick. But I know I am powerless to do anything miraculous. If I were Jesus, or God for that matter, I would of course heal my friends and fellows. There would be no question about that. But one passes through sorrow and you move into action. I think that is the process we all go through. If you sit in sorrow and get stuck there feeling powerless to change anything, then you become mired in the mud and you are immovable.

Once you move into action – sorrow finds it place and there it resides. Some carry sorrow with them in their knapsack. Like a badge of courage to make sure everyone knows that we feel sorrow and so should you. It is a constant reminder of where we have been. If I wore a red ribbon every day of my life everyone who sees me would be reminded of my disease. Being constantly reminded that one is sick does not help us move into action.

The longer I live, the more action I can work towards. I don’t think about sitting in my shit feeling sorry for myself or for my lot. Because I have moved out of that way of living. Until I could find a way out of certain death, there was a time when sorrow was a constant companion. Because I knew I was going to die. It was just the end that was coming for me.

But I think Jesus stepped into my life and was willing to help me.

And I think that I was willing to do whatever it took to live as well.

I sat in sorrow for a long time. For years I imagine. Watching your friends die one by one and being powerless to stop it was pretty arresting. Knowing that the gun was trained on you was unavoidable. And for many, I think, that was their undoing. Because they got stuck in the headlights. And they could not move out of that light or that sorrow. They became resigned to dying, and in the end they did die. All of them.

But for me there was a shift into action, and it was not by my power alone that I acted. Men and women of greater faith than my own encouraged me into action, by telling me that I would not die on their watches. My medical team looked with love on their many patients. Many of them are still alive.

I also think that the medical establishment has to divorce any kind of emotional or spiritual significance to survival when it comes to numbers. For some, we get sick, and we walk our journey. Some survive. Some do not. For doctors, like mine, he cannot look at faith in healing, as I look upon faith in my life. I think pity is a motivator. I don’t want you or anyone else to feel sorry for me, and that moves me to act. I don’t desire ones pity or sorrow. Because I defied the odds. I really cannot tell you why I defied the odds I just did.

Was it God? Was it drugs? Was it faith? Was it me?Was it them?

Why do some survive with disease and they get better and why do some fall prey to death and fall? I believe that personal faith has a lot to do with how well one deals with illness and disease. And I know for many who are sick, death is the ultimate end, and there is no way around it. In those cases I can tell you that faith does wonders between the here and there.

Three things happened to me in succession that I can tell you were the turning points in my survival. And these three things you have to take on faith because they cannot be explained by science.

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1. Was my near death experience on my last hospital visit many years ago.

2. Was my visitation by the beings who altered my body and told me that I would live. It happened. And I can give you the date.

3. Was my visitation by the Blessed Mother and the appearance of the crucifix on my windowsill when I lived in Miami Beach.

These three encounters I had to work on. These three encounters had to be worked into my faith life and my understanding of the universe. The near death experience showed me the other side. I sat in the garden, I asked my questions and they sent me back. It took a wise man on a beach to get me to start looking for the actual answers to those questions while I was alive and not wait until I was dead to ask them.

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I believe in hyper-dimensionality. That there are beings here and there that can access the human existence plane of life. That’s the only way I can explain this visitation, where they took me and what they did to me, because after this visitation my T-cells spiked to over 1000  from almost nothing. It was a marked improvement that the doctors could not explain, it just happened.

I’ve prayed enough novenas to get me to heaven and back several times and I know what I saw on that afternoon. More to the point, the roses that she brought with her. The white dress and the calm voice that spoke. How many people have specific spiritual experiences like that? And are not afraid to talk about them. When they happened I didn’t tell anyone.

But it was that man on the beach that knew about what had happened to me without me saying a word. That had to have been Godly counsel. No? “You went across and they sent you back without any answers!” Or did they???

Do you carry those answers within you? If so then you have to find out, right? The only way to find out if you carry the answers within you is to act. Pity went out the window when it came to action.

Jesus might come to us and offer us a way to work out our illness into Glory. Surviving illness and disease is miraculous. Because we become willing to let God look upon us with Love. And we allow God to work his miracles in whatever way He sees fit.

I think we are all tested, with some sort of “Dis-Ease.” Whether it be medical or spiritual. Life would be too easy if there was no dis-ease. People with addictions suffer from a specific dis-ease. People with illnesses suffer from specific dis-ease. Some survive, many do not.

I also think that recovery and prayer and meditation has had a huge effect on me personally and spiritually. Going to mass, being accepted, being loved, all those things have only helped me maintain my willingness because God constantly makes himself aware to me. Through other people.

I think it all comes down to willingness…

Willingness to believe, Willingness to fight, Willingness to allow Jesus to look upon us with Love and to receive that love unconditionally.

Allowing God to use us and to heal us in whatever way we are supposed to be healed in order to prepare us for our own deaths. Because really, a life spent in prayer is a life that is prepared to die. Letting Go and Letting God is a very freeing way to live. Because in the end it will just be Me and God.

And won’t I want to hear him say “Well done, Good and faithful servant.”


The Mayan Calendar …

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Maya Web link Here

Most of us are not archaeologists or astronomers, anthropologists or astrologers. Yet the majority of what is written about one of the most exciting and relevant subjects of our day – the approaching Winter Solstice 2012 end-date of the Mayan Calendar – appears in words aimed at specialists and couched in language that can be hard to read. This article is written for the Everyday Earthling who may be hearing a lot about the Mayans, their calendars, hieroglyphs and mysterious temples scattered throughout the jungles of Mexico, Guatemala, Belize and Honduras.

Let us begin with some questions. Why is there so much talk about the “end of the Mayan calendar” and what does it mean? Is there something significant we should know about the Winter Solstice date of December 21, 2012? How were the Mayans able to track long periods of time and why would they want to? Why should we care about the Mayans today? Is there anything we can learn from them? I’ll begin by sharing how my own interest in the subject developed and go on from there.

I first learned about the Mayans in 1987 from Jose Arguelles’ book The Mayan Factor. It was during the months leading up to the event known as Harmonic Convergence that Arguelles, artist and visionary, introduced me to the 20 Mayan daysigns and the thirteen Mayan numbers – and to the wonderfully engaging and mysterious 260 day Mayan ceremonial calendar, called the Tzolkin (pronounced chol-kin). My pursuit of knowledge about pre-Columbian culture had begun.

A great deal of scientific and visionary research work has been done about the Mayans, so I started reading. I learned that the Mayans tracked cycles within cycles within cycles of time. Their calendar acted as a harmonic calibrator, linking and coordinating the earthly, lunar, solar and galactic seasons in an aesthetically simple and elegant manner. The provocative simplicity of the daysigns and the sheer harmony of the calendar drew me in. Then a landmark article by John Major Jenkins appeared in Mountain Astrologer magazine in 1994, revealing for the first time in our era the true meaning of the end-date.

Is there something significant we should know about the Winter Solstice date of December 21, 2012? Yes. On this day a rare astronomical and Mayan mythical event occurs. In astronomic terms, the Sun conjuncts the intersection of the Milky Way and the plane of the ecliptic. The Milky Way, as most of us know, extends in a general north-south direction in the night sky. The plane of the ecliptic is the track the Sun, Moon, planets and stars appear to travel in the sky, from east to west. It intersects the Milky Way at a 60 degree angle near the constellation Sagittarius.

The cosmic cross formed by the intersecting Milky Way and plane of the ecliptic was called the Sacred Tree by the Maya. The trunk of the tree, the Axis Mundi, is the Milky Way, and the main branch intersecting the tree is the plane of the ecliptic. Mythically, at sunrise on December 21, 2012, the Sun – our Father – rises to conjoin the center of the Sacred Tree, the World Tree, the Tree of Life..

This rare astronomical event, foretold in the Mayan creation story of the Hero Twins, and calculated empircally by them, will happen for many of us in our lifetime. The Sun has not conjoined the Milky Way and the plane of the ecliptic since some 25,800 years ago, long before the Mayans arrived on the scene and long before their predecessors the Olmecs arrived. What does this mean?

Due to a phenomenon called the precession of the equinoxes, caused by the Earth’s wobble that lasts almost 26,000 years, the apparent location of the Winter Solstice sunrise has been ever so slowly moving toward the Galactic Center. Precession may be understood by watching a spinning top. Over many revolutions the top will rise and dip on its axis, not unlike how the Earth does over an extremely long period of time. One complete rise and dip constitutes the cycle of precession.

The Mayans noticed the relative slippage of the positions of stars in the night sky over long periods of observation, indicative of precession, and foretold this great coming attraction. By using an invention called the Long Count, the Mayans fast-forwarded to anchor December 21, 2012 as the end of their Great Cycle and then counted backwards to decide where the calendar would begin. Thus the Great Cycle we are currently in began on August 11, 3114 B.C. But there’s more.

The Great Cycle, lasting 1,872,000 days and equivalent to 5,125.36 years, is but one fifth of the Great Great Cycle, known scientifically as the Great Year or the Platonic Year – the length of the precession of the equinoxes. To use a metaphor from the modern industrial world, on Winter Solstice A.D. 2012 it is as if the Giant Odometer of Humanity on Earth hits 100,000 miles and all the cycles big and small turn over to begin anew. The present world age will end and a new world age will begin.

Over a year’s time the Sun transits through the twelve houses of the zodiac. Many of us know this by what “Sun sign” is associated with our birthday. Upping the scale to the Platonic Year – the 26,000 year long cycle – we are shifting, astrologically, from the Age of Pisces to the Age of Aquarius. The Mayan calendar does not really “end” in 2012, but rather, all the cycles turn over and start again, vibrating to a new era. It is as if humanity and the Earth will graduate in the eyes of the Father Sun and Grandmother Milky Way.

Why should we care about the Mayans today? Is there anything we can learn from them? The trees give us oxygen to breathe and help create the nourishing rains upon which we depend, sustaining life. We are missing these rains in places where the trees have been cut down or burned. Fires begin that nature can no longer extinguish. For the Mayans, trees were intermediaries between the physical and spiritual worlds, and absolutely essential to life. They believed that without the tree man could not survive and that “with the death of the last tree comes the death of the human race.”

The ancient carved stones and the stars themselves tell us we are on the brink of a new world age. There is no reason not to take a leap of faith into imagining what may be in store. We may trust that it is time for humanity to awaken into a true partnership with each other, with the Earth, and the Cosmos. By accepting this partnership we may claim our birthright and become Galactic Citizens who care for and sustain the planet, thus sustaining ourselves. This is clearly the challenge of our times. Yet, arriving just in time and on schedule is the Winter Solstice dawn on the day we may remember that we are truly Children of the World.


Mars in Retrograde

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On November 15, 2007, Mars reaches his retrograde station, in preparation for a period of retrograde motion in Cancer and then in Gemini that will last until January 30th, 2008. In addition, the effects of the retrograde period will continue to be felt until he returns in direct motion on April 4th, 2008 to the degree where he first made his station (12° Cancer 27′). The first beginnings of the effect take place from October 20, as Mars begins to slow, so prepare for issues to cloud, especially if you have strong Cardinal Sign placements in your chart. The Cardinal Signs are Aries, Cancer, Libra and Capricorn.

Mars turns retrograde only once every two years and two months, but the effects of each period differ, according to the sign in which it happens (see box for Mars Retrograde 2007).

A planet is described as retrograde when it appears to be moving backwards through the zodiac. This traditional concept arises in the illusory planetary motion created by the orbital rotation of the earth, with relation to other planets in our solar system.

Planets are never actually retrograde or stationary, they just seem that way, due to this illusion. Retrograde periods, although often problematic for us earthlings, are not particularly uncommon. Each planet retrogrades, except the Sun and Moon.

Fated Events

As a rule, retrograde planets presage a period of seemingly inevitable or fated events, which relate to their sphere of influence. The retrograde phase is when the planet concerned pushes itself into our consciousness, overshadowing the energies of the other planets and so affecting our personalities (each planet symbolizes and affects specific parts of our makeup). It presents us with a series of events over which we seem to have little or no control, relating especially to the sign in which the retrogradation occurs. For example, Mars retrograde in emotional, home-oriented Cancer presents quite different sets of circumstances from those generated when he retrogrades into gossipy, intellectual Gemini.

Retrograde Cycles

The retrograde period is best seen as a cycle, beginning when Mars begins to slow to a halt before travelling backwards through the zodiac and ending when he returns to the point where he first paused. However, during the cycle, the planetary energy is most powerful – and more likely to generate critical events of universal importance – when Mars makes a station, appearing motionless in the sky. These stationary periods occur at the beginning of the cycle (when Mars first halts as he prepares to move backwards) and midway through the cycle when Mars slows to a stop before moving forward again. It is worth noting that retrograde periods only occur when Mars is physically closest to the Earth, glowing balefully in the sky! With Mars so close, no wonder we are so affected.


Om ami padme om – Doodling

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He sits quietly waiting for inspiration to come to him, hoping that something will jog his senses to write today, wanting to express what he is feeling.

The blood surges through his brain, his body is hyperactive and he is aware of the energy surging around him. He takes a few moments to stand on the balcony and survey the world around him. He listens to the wind speak to him in hush tones. The sun is starting to wane as twilight begins above him, soon the sun will set behind the mountain and darkness will fall.

He closes his eyes and focuses on a point in his brain, he envisions a tuffet of blue, the others sitting there with him in the peace and quiet of the meditation room.

The director reads a passage from a holy book to take us into the inner space of our souls, the words knock on the door of the inner mind, and in a moment the silence will begin.

He hears himself speak the words [om ami padme om] he is connected to the universe and the journey begins. He repeats the mantra over and over while he meters his breath into slow movements. His mind begins to leave the room and he reaches for the astral plane.

He has practiced this technique for many months and he has proven himself able to sit within the silence, for most who come to the center they are uncomfortable with silence, let alone sitting in it.

A twitch here and itch there, a scattered thought flits through the mind, as each thought courses past his field of vision he repeats the mantra [om ami padme om] and he resets himself on the breath.

Once again his brain is still for the moment, he sits peacefully on his tuffet and he breaths. He can now hear his heart beat and he focuses on that beat as he once again repeats the mantra [om ami padme om] the brain is still the body is calm the heart beats on and on.

Another thought flits past his field of vision, but this time it does not stop in front of him for long, he can let go of it and focus on his breathing. One by one he empties his brain of all thought, he might be there for a while in order to do that, but then again, that’s why he is there, learning to listen to the voice of the universe or what we might call inspiration.

He visualizes a garden, peaceful and quiet. He sees the trees and he can smell the grass, the flowers are bowing to the breath of wind as it flows over them. The garden is full of things that can distract him from his quest of inner silence. The vision goes dark.

Another visual comes to him, this time it is a church, an old monastery that he once visited. The monks are chanting holy prayers around him, their voices are carried throughout the chapel, he sits in that space for what seems eternity listening to them sing. With the chant he repeats the mantra [om ami padme om] he is connected to the sacred through the employment of spiritual practice and meditative process.

Outside the chapel is the labrynth, a path he walked numerous times while trying to connect with the inner voice, a process of prayers are employed to keep him focused and to keep him from paying mind to others walking around him.

The chant continues, he begins to sway with the music as he chants his own mantra within his head. By now he has been able to keep thoughts in his head from distracting him from his meditation.

Om ami padme Om
Om ami padme Om
Om ami padme Om
Om ami padme Om

He leads himself through the meditation and finally the monks are reaching the end of vespers and the sacrament is about to be exposed and he hears them sing:

Tantum ergo Sacramentum
Veneremur cernui:
Et antiquum documentum
Novo cedat ritui:
Praestet fides supplementum
Sensuum defectui.

Genitori, Genitoque
Laus et iubilatio,
Salus, honor, virtus quoque
Sit et benedictio:
Procedenti ab utroque
Compar sit laudatio.
Amen.

V. Panem de coelo praestitisti eis.
R. Omne delectamentum in se habentem.

Oremus: Deus, qui nobis sub sacramento mirabili, passionis tuae memoriamreliquisti: tribue, quaesumus, ita nos corporis et sanguinis tui sacramysteria venerari, ut redemptionis tuae fructum in nobis iugiter sentiamus.Qui vivis et regnas in saecula saeculorum.

R. Amen.

****************************************

Down in adoration falling,
Lo! the sacred Host we hail,
Lo! oe’r ancient forms departing
Newer rites of grace prevail;
Faith for all defects supplying,
Where the feeble senses fail.

To the everlasting Father,
And the Son Who reigns on high
With the Holy Spirit proceeding
Forth from each eternally,
Be salvation, honor blessing,
Might and endless majesty.
Amen.

R. Thou hast given them bread from heaven.
V. Having within it all sweetness.

Let us pray: O God, who in this wonderful Sacrament left us a memorial of Thy Passion: grant, we implore Thee, that we may so venerate the sacred mysteries of Thy Body and Blood, as always to be conscious of the fruit of Thy Redemption. Thou who livest and reignest forever and ever.

R. Amen.


Jerome – Transcendence …

Jerome lives on a world of universal creation. The wisdom of ages past serves him well. In his time, the need to label and separate people had come to an end eons ago.

Coming from a world of such division, he questions the way that humanity sees itself and the world that exists around them. His progenitors did not learn the lesson of the law of return. Nor did they learn from their mistakes.

In the intervening centuries, the world would suffer because of men’s and women’s decisions and by their own actions. A world divided is a world separated from itself. There is no wisdom in separation when we all come from the same origin.

Humanity has the ability to transcend its own boundaries if it allowed itself to see the wealth that different humans brings to the discussion of mosaic and melting pot.

The necessity to differentiate, as wisdom speaks is pointless. It requires much too much energy and takes away from the total person who is said to be different.

Where difference was once something to be used against men and women would eventually turn to the respect of personal assets that each person brings to their existence, community and world. Wisdom sees that the labeling and differentiation of population and of peoples was not the right path to walk.

It is not enough to be a resident of a location, but what is most important is that one have a connection to their living planet or biosphere. For if we are not intimately connected to the living process of our biosphere, that biosphere may suffer for lack of attention and care.

Wisdom speaks on the differentiation of religion. What day will come in the near to come time, when realizations are made that the creator of all things speaks and asks for an accounting of piety and observance. Did you keep the path clear, did you help and respect your neighbor, did you care for each other and your biosphere?

Wisdom speaks that many may perish within the division they create for themselves. All will be judged based on their actions towards each other and to their biosphere.

Wisdom of the ages speaks to the affect that until we decide to live together in community, caring for each other and learning the greatest lesson of bio-congruence, we shall all suffer, until we find the common link that connects us instead of standing on issues and differentiations that separate us.

The great lesson that wisdom sees is that we must work towards transcendence, we can be more than we had ever hoped and the biosphere does not need to suffer so. Men and women must work to maintain the world they live on because the children of later ages will be forced into interstellar travel to find locations suitable for humanoid civilizations.

The teachers of interstellar and inter-dimensional lessons have been attempting to make contact with humanoid civilizations and they have not been met with glad tidings. But they carry lessons that humanoid civilizations must learn in order to see themselves through to the next emanations.

It would be utter arrogance to believe that a single biosphere is all that lives in the universe. The creator has spent eons of time in creating worlds to be found, to be traveled to and colonized by whatever civilization figures out how to travel amongst the stars.

But in order to attain such knowledge from interstellar and inter-dimensional peoples, humanity must stop doing what it is doing today on many fronts. Humanity must rise above its kill and conquer attitude, and until generations are cleansed of the kill and conquer attributes, transcendence will remain illusive.

Traveling between worlds Jerome finds that successive generations benefit from the mosaic of peoples that populate his biosphere. There is no longer a need to identify province or language, difference or sameness.

All are united under one path, that is of transcendent life.

Everyone lives to sustain the other. The focus is on life instead of death. Future humanoid civilizations flourish when they have realized that killing generations of people for purely monetary gain goes against all that the creator – created us for. It speaks against and acts against all that is sacred at the universal level.

The dimensional worlds speak to all, when they say that the tribulation is at hand and has begun, the biosphere is purifying its land and proofing its inhabitants. Those that see the wisdom in the suffering will transcend the mundane and human. They will rise above the smoke and fire and from the ashes of destruction new lives must rise.

The creator sees the universe as it revolves and worlds collide and intersect in many ways, dimensions collide and those who have eyes to see it will find it. Those with right vision shall find themselves in successive generations to be able to transcend humanoid existence.

It is not enough to read the words of prophets and sages. It is time for action based on words read and spoken. Through the ages teachers have told us what they see, and have seen. Who in your lineage has the ability to speak for all to tell the universe what he or she has seen or sees? Would would it be that you trust as wise sage for your time, to make an accounting of your sphere?

The age is coming to an end. One must know that the universe moves and we move with it, and we must evolve with that universe or we shall perish. The universe only gives what each human can handle and conspires to assist us in our quest of transcendence.

Generations shall speak wide to the universe about what you failed to see and what you failed to do to attain the greatest gift the universe has to offer you. Wisdom knows what is coming, and what has come before.

Harden not your hearts when the universe speaks to you.


Stories of Jerome – Marge

In his dreams he travels to places seen and unseen. He is gifted with the power to fly about the earth, to see and travel dimensionally and to visit the places he has never seen.

Jerome made a trip into his past, to a time when things were so different. His childhood home appears in the distance, a great big house, in his estimation. It was the first house his parents had purchased after moving south away from the cold.

The neighborhood is full of kids and is close to family who happen to live just blocks away. These were the days when a bicycle is the most important item to him. He would spend hours on his bike traveling from here to there, around and around.

His aunt Marge lives not far away and that is where this visit concentrates today. The house is painted in tropical pink and a well groomed yard surrounds it. Why did he come here today, what was he looking for?

He sets his huffy down on the front porch and rings the doorbell and she answers and invites him in. There is no method to the house, the rooms scattered here and there. He remember that he has visited this house through his childhood before they made the move.

The best part of dream travel is that one can see the passage of time standing in one location as the surroundings change over the years. Upon his first visits to the home there was a huge fire pit in the backyard where they would b.b.q. food. The back yard is a veritable feast of fruit and flowers.

In tropical climes, spending time outdoors is a way of life, hence his traveling by bicycle. Like a flash the fire pit disappears and another room goes up before his eyes. Times change as years pass. Jerome is drawn to the back bedroom suite for some reason. It is quite a large room, with the major dividing wall banked in mirror. There is a queen size bed off to one side of the room, it is very comfortable and clean.

The spirits must be calling him to this place for some reason, but for sure, he does not know why he is here today. He walks through the house once more looking for clues as to why he was called here and by whom.

He remembers Marge’s funeral, and her committal to the ground in the cemetery that he would visit time and time again. Is it she that called him here? To impart a message or just to remember? Jerome is the spiritual medium for the family, he always had been. This was the first time he had heard from Marge in many a year. He cannot remember the date of her death.

The visual she gives him is of family dinners and holidays and playing the piano. They sit in the family room where the television sits and where they would spend countless days together. She reminds him of his past and takes him into the room where he slept and she gives him a mental image of himself as a small child.

Marge is the sister of his father’s mother Jean. Yet on this visit Jean is not present, the energy is missing. But the energy he senses is female he knows the difference. Jerome has not thought about this place in many a year, an anniversary must be at hand for him to be called here to remember.

At some point he knows the visit has concluded because the energy draws back and he is standing on the porch once again with his bicycle, and she has bade him goodbye, he gets on his bike and rides away from the house.


The Soul of the World …

“I believe that in a peaceful moment like that, through either healing or meditation, we connect to our higher self and the Divine on a deeper level. It is similar to the traveling we do in our sleep. Through astral travel we are given a possibility to learn and check in on our mates ‘back home’.”

They also say that we are created from stardust, and to stardust we shall return one day. Each of us have the ability to connect to the “Soul of the World.” The soul of the world speaks to us and ministers to our souls and to others. When we reach the Soul of the world we have access to the “Hand that created it all.” (Alchemist pp.151) When I meditate I try to connect to all that is, and find that space in between, where I can access the healing energies of the universe. There are times I get right through, and there are times that I do not. I love the Astral plane. I have written about it in my (Dream journals – on my blog)

“I read this book which says that we all originate from different places in the Universe. It might be a star or another planet… Further they say that a reason us humans are enjoying ‘coupling’ as they’re referring to it in the book, is that there is a moment when the mind looses track of time and our soul can ‘connect to home’.”

I had a few visual dreams about where we originated that there is a very large (Bio-Dome) ship traveling through the cosmos and they are responsible for “seeding” planets with various life all over. This story is in my (Stories of Jerome) series. I think that is a possibility, the universe is so vast that there has to be more than we see temporally and dimensionally.

“In a way it’s cleverly orchestrated, don’t you think? Is it a way to keep us sane?”

Sanity, peace of mind, I guess it does. I know true sanity because I have inhabited insanity when I was “Using” but no more. Yet, there are times when I get “kooky” and entertain my head and that makes me insane… There but for the grace of God… I love to sit and contemplate the vastness of universal creation. The possibility that there is God – a Creator – That is so vast that we cannot even envision just how vast he/she/it is…

“So, why do we feel the need to ‘connect to home’ and ‘check in on our mates’? The same book is saying that we have all come to planet Earth (Gaia) to help it and the civilization evolve but life here is very different and our soul which is etheric is not used to being ‘trapped’ in a body or experiencing physical sensations and emotions hence we need flashes of supporting energy from ‘home’.”

Home? Where is Home? The say where your heart is, there will your treasure be. My home, here in Montreal, My home, the location of my younger memories, my grandparents house? When I want to connect with home, I return to those places that brought me the most joy. I revisit those places in the oddest times of my day. All those people who were part of my life then, now long since dead, returned to the astral plane and they return to us to teach us about what’s over “there” so we can work to create that here… Evolution…

I find myself at times snapping out of my body much more frequently as of late. I find my mind wanders to far off places at the oddest times of the day and night. I find I wander during “Liminal” times of the day. Liminal – those “Thin places.” Like when I stop and turn off my brain, when I am in the bathroom or even in the shower.

Last night I was lying in bed and almost ready to go to sleep and I found myself in another place, I was having a conversation years earlier and I found that odd. I don’t know what it means that I am seeing these liminal places or states, maybe I am just loosing my mind? It doesn’t scare me, I just know that I can leave this body of mine on command when I meditate and when I sleep.

That is a gift one rises to whence meditation and inner work is achieved. I believe in healing arts. I have my Tarot cards, and my candles, I do not leave the house without my healing stones that I carry in my backpack Quartz Crystals, Amethysts, Hematite, they correspond to a Quarts point that I wear around my neck.

When you practice the “Arts” one learns how to use the pendulum, and the stone. The Yes and the No. The positive and the negative. If you think the universe does not speak to us, take a quartz point and a pendulum and see how the pendulum swings, in either the positive or negative direction. There is such energy to be tapped from the Universe.

Imagine that if we had the ability to identify, contain, quantify, assimilate and use universal energy to heal us, I can access some, but if I knew how to access more, I could do more, I could do more for others and for myself. I truly believe that when I started practicing the “Art” and I had that “Taken experience” I was made aware of how to capture universal energy for myself. I think that is one very big part of why I am still alive…

God, The Universe, The Creator… The Soul of the World, The Voice of the Soul of the Universe, the Hand that created all…

The Alchemist teaches us many things… “It’s not what enters man’s mouths that’s evil, It’s what comes out of their mouths that is.”

“Everything has a Personal Legend, but one day that Personal Legend will be realized. So each thing has to transform itself into something better, and to acquire a new Personal Legend, until someday, the Soul of the World becomes one thing only…”

The boy turned to the hand that wrote it all. As he did so, he sensed that the universe had fallen silent, and he decided not to speak. A Current of love rushed from his heart, and the boy began to pray.

It was a prayer that he had never said before, because it was a prayer without words or pleas…In the silence, the boy understood that the desert, the wind, and the sun were seeking to follow their paths, and to understand what had been written on a single emerald.

He saw that omens were scattered throughout the earth and in space, and that there was no reason or significance attached to their appearance; he could see that not the deserts, nor the winds, nor the sun, nor the people knew why they had been created.

But that the hand had a reason for all of this, and that only the hand could perform miracles, or transform the sea into a desert…or a man into the wind.

Because only the hand understood that it was a larger design that had moved the universe to the point at which six days of creation had evolved into a Master Work.

The boy reached through to the Soul of the World, and saw that it was part of the Soul of God. And he saw that the Soul of God was his own soul. And that he, a boy, could perform miracles…”

Alchemist pgs 151-152


Report: Anglican Head To Meet ‘In Secret’ With Gays

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THIS is NEWS!!! 

by 365Gay.com Newscenter Staff

(London) The leader of the world’s Anglicans reportedly with conduct a “secret” communion service in London for gay clergy and their partners.

The Times newspaper in an article to be published on Tuesday says that Archbishop of Canterbury, Dr Rowan Williams will hold the service at St Peter’s, Eaton Square. The parish is home to many of the country’s liberal and wealthy Anglican elite.

The paper said the service will take place on November 29 and include an address by the Archbishop that is titled “Present realities and future possibilities for lesbians and gay men in the Church.”

Those attending will be there by invitation only, the Times notes, adding that they have been warned not to disclose any of the events or discussions which take place.

A list of those attending has been vetted by the Archbishop’s staff and and will be shredded.

Disclosure of the service will likely acerbate the already deep wounds between Anglican liberals and conservatives as the church appears to be inching closer to schism.

This week Williams will attend the Episcopal House of Bishops meeting in New Orleans. 

The meeting comes  just ten days before a deadline imposed by conservative Anglican factions around the world for the Episcopal Church to guarantee it will not appoint any more openly gay bishops.

Tensions between liberals and conservatives in the worldwide Anglican Church have been increasing since the Episcopal Church consecrated its first openly gay bishop, V. Gene Robinson of New Hampshire, in 2003.

Anglicanism’s national churches, called provinces. are loosely bound to one another in the Anglican Communion with the Archbishop of Canterbury its titular head.  Appointed by the Queen on the advice of the British government, the Archbishop is little more than a figurehead.

Rowan William’s tenure has been marked by growing differences between right and left in the Church – seen mainly as a struggle between those provinces in the Developing World and those in Industrialized Nations.

Conservatives, led by Nigerian Archbishop Peter Akinola, oppose gays and females in the clergy, and believe in the literal interpretation of the Bible. Nigeria has the highest number of Anglican’s outside of the UK and about half of the Church’s members are in the Third World.

When he meets in New Orleans this month with American bishops Williams will attempt to work out a statement that will be acceptable to both liberals and conservatives – something most church observers say is impossible.

Earlier this month the challenge in avoiding a schism became more difficult. 

Uganda’s Anglican Archbishop Henry Luke Orombi consecrated Virginia-based conservative John Guernsey as a bishop of a breakaway Episcopal group of 33 congregations in the United States that will recognize the Church of Uganda’s authority.

In Kenya two American priests were consecrated as bishops in the US as African conservative churches continued to poach dioceses in the United States. 

 A string of conservative parishes in America have broken from the Episcopal Church and aligned themselves to the African Anglican provinces.

Last month the Episcopal diocese of Chicago included an openly lesbian priest among five nominees for bishop. 

Next year bishops from around the world are scheduled to meet in London for their once-a-decade meeting called the Lambeth Conference.

In July the steering committee for the Global South Primates, made up of churches mainly in the developing world and the most conservative in the worldwide Anglican Communion, said its bishops will boycott the meeting.  

©365Gay.com 2007


Report: Anglican Head To Meet 'In Secret' With Gays

gene_robinson.jpg

THIS is NEWS!!! 

by 365Gay.com Newscenter Staff

(London) The leader of the world’s Anglicans reportedly with conduct a “secret” communion service in London for gay clergy and their partners.

The Times newspaper in an article to be published on Tuesday says that Archbishop of Canterbury, Dr Rowan Williams will hold the service at St Peter’s, Eaton Square. The parish is home to many of the country’s liberal and wealthy Anglican elite.

The paper said the service will take place on November 29 and include an address by the Archbishop that is titled “Present realities and future possibilities for lesbians and gay men in the Church.”

Those attending will be there by invitation only, the Times notes, adding that they have been warned not to disclose any of the events or discussions which take place.

A list of those attending has been vetted by the Archbishop’s staff and and will be shredded.

Disclosure of the service will likely acerbate the already deep wounds between Anglican liberals and conservatives as the church appears to be inching closer to schism.

This week Williams will attend the Episcopal House of Bishops meeting in New Orleans. 

The meeting comes  just ten days before a deadline imposed by conservative Anglican factions around the world for the Episcopal Church to guarantee it will not appoint any more openly gay bishops.

Tensions between liberals and conservatives in the worldwide Anglican Church have been increasing since the Episcopal Church consecrated its first openly gay bishop, V. Gene Robinson of New Hampshire, in 2003.

Anglicanism’s national churches, called provinces. are loosely bound to one another in the Anglican Communion with the Archbishop of Canterbury its titular head.  Appointed by the Queen on the advice of the British government, the Archbishop is little more than a figurehead.

Rowan William’s tenure has been marked by growing differences between right and left in the Church – seen mainly as a struggle between those provinces in the Developing World and those in Industrialized Nations.

Conservatives, led by Nigerian Archbishop Peter Akinola, oppose gays and females in the clergy, and believe in the literal interpretation of the Bible. Nigeria has the highest number of Anglican’s outside of the UK and about half of the Church’s members are in the Third World.

When he meets in New Orleans this month with American bishops Williams will attempt to work out a statement that will be acceptable to both liberals and conservatives – something most church observers say is impossible.

Earlier this month the challenge in avoiding a schism became more difficult. 

Uganda’s Anglican Archbishop Henry Luke Orombi consecrated Virginia-based conservative John Guernsey as a bishop of a breakaway Episcopal group of 33 congregations in the United States that will recognize the Church of Uganda’s authority.

In Kenya two American priests were consecrated as bishops in the US as African conservative churches continued to poach dioceses in the United States. 

 A string of conservative parishes in America have broken from the Episcopal Church and aligned themselves to the African Anglican provinces.

Last month the Episcopal diocese of Chicago included an openly lesbian priest among five nominees for bishop. 

Next year bishops from around the world are scheduled to meet in London for their once-a-decade meeting called the Lambeth Conference.

In July the steering committee for the Global South Primates, made up of churches mainly in the developing world and the most conservative in the worldwide Anglican Communion, said its bishops will boycott the meeting.  

©365Gay.com 2007


All is Right in the World

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I slept in today, UGH! But I did get to my evening class with Sara, my Celtic Christianity class, which I totally enjoyed. Sara’s classes are comfy and warm and cozy that you come in and you sit and allow the feeling to wash over you that “all is well in the world.”

That doesn’t speak of an easy ride mind you, but one of conscious thought and work. I have been reading the course pack and through tonight’s discussion we have learned a few things. That there is more to Celtic life than we may have known. That each reading in the book is set in its place for a reason.

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Imagine standing before a forest, you boys out West can better understand this than I can paint a picture, but Sara used the forest imagery tonight. And I remarked how each reading, if laid upon the one prior paints a picture in successive layers of reading, and information. And the readings tease you to walk into the forest and turn leaves over looking for further clues to the real truth of the Celtic.

We are invited to start exploring the forest for clues to our study for this term. It is not all so easy, and reading about the past – we must use our lenses of hermeneutic suspicion, to read each text and article with a critical eye. I used that term tonight, and Sara giggled to the rest of the class, “oh Jeremy, you are so clever, aren’t you!” I had to explain this strategy with my fellows.

It’s all good…

And my young warrior from the West came to visit! You can check out his blog, The Life of Robert Wesley, he is a very special friend that I have known for some time.  Joy of joys he has decided to continue writing!! YAY!!

On the way home I hit “Came to Believe” in time for the second speaker, just so I had some time to sit with myself and be quiet and listen to another speak about his trials and tribulations about recovery. I just wanted to sit and listen, which is always a good thing to do when possible.

Over all is was a great night. Now I am gonna hit some dinner and chill out…

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A photograph from the Portfolio of Robert Wesley from B.C.


Baghdad Burning … (Is Safe)

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Baghdad Burning… 

Leaving Home…


Two months ago, the suitcases were packed. My lone, large suitcase sat in my bedroom for nearly six weeks, so full of clothes and personal items, that it took me, E. and our six year old neighbor to zip it closed.

Packing that suitcase was one of the more difficult things I’ve had to do. It was Mission Impossible: Your mission, R., should you choose to accept it is to go through the items you’ve accumulated over nearly three decades and decide which ones you cannot do without. The difficulty of your mission, R., is that you must contain these items in a space totaling 1 m by 0.7 m by 0.4 m. This, of course, includes the clothes you will be wearing for the next months, as well as any personal memorabilia- photos, diaries, stuffed animals, CDs and the like.

I packed and unpacked it four times. Each time I unpacked it, I swore I’d eliminate some of the items that were not absolutely necessary. Each time I packed it again, I would add more ‘stuff’ than the time before. E. finally came in a month and a half later and insisted we zip up the bag so I wouldn’t be tempted to update its contents constantly.

The decision that we would each take one suitcase was made by my father. He took one look at the box of assorted memories we were beginning to prepare and it was final: Four large identical suitcases were purchased- one for each member of the family and a fifth smaller one was dug out of a closet for the documentation we’d collectively need- graduation certificates, personal identification papers, etc.

We waited… and waited… and waited. It was decided we would leave mid to late June- examinations would be over and as we were planning to leave with my aunt and her two children- that was the time considered most convenient for all involved. The day we finally appointed as THE DAY, we woke up to an explosion not 2 km away and a curfew. The trip was postponed a week. The night before we were scheduled to travel, the driver who owned the GMC that would take us to the border excused himself from the trip- his brother had been killed in a shooting. Once again, it was postponed.

There was one point, during the final days of June, where I simply sat on my packed suitcase and cried. By early July, I was convinced we would never leave. I was sure the Iraqi border was as far away, for me, as the borders of Alaska. It had taken us well over two months to decide to leave by car instead of by plane. It had taken us yet another month to settle on Syria as opposed to Jordan. How long would it take us to reschedule leaving?

It happened almost overnight. My aunt called with the exciting news that one of her neighbors was going to leave for Syria in 48 hours because their son was being threatened and they wanted another family on the road with them in another car- like gazelles in the jungle, it’s safer to travel in groups. It was a flurry of activity for two days. We checked to make sure everything we could possibly need was prepared and packed. We arranged for a distant cousin of my moms who was to stay in our house with his family to come the night before we left (we can’t leave the house empty because someone might take it).

It was a tearful farewell as we left the house. One of my other aunts and an uncle came to say goodbye the morning of the trip. It was a solemn morning and I’d been preparing myself for the last two days not to cry. You won’t cry, I kept saying, because you’re coming back. You won’t cry because it’s just a little trip like the ones you used to take to Mosul or Basrah before the war. In spite of my assurances to myself of a safe and happy return, I spent several hours before leaving with a huge lump lodged firmly in my throat. My eyes burned and my nose ran in spite of me. I told myself it was an allergy.

We didn’t sleep the night before we had to leave because there seemed to be so many little things to do… It helped that there was no electricity at all- the area generator wasn’t working and ‘national electricity’ was hopeless. There just wasn’t time to sleep.

The last few hours in the house were a blur. It was time to go and I went from room to room saying goodbye to everything. I said goodbye to my desk- the one I’d used all through high school and college. I said goodbye to the curtains and the bed and the couch. I said goodbye to the armchair E. and I broke when we were younger. I said goodbye to the big table over which we’d gathered for meals and to do homework. I said goodbye to the ghosts of the framed pictures that once hung on the walls, because the pictures have long since been taken down and stored away- but I knew just what hung where. I said goodbye to the silly board games we inevitably fought over- the Arabic Monopoly with the missing cards and money that no one had the heart to throw away.

I knew then as I know now that these were all just items- people are so much more important. Still, a house is like a museum in that it tells a certain history. You look at a cup or stuffed toy and a chapter of memories opens up before your very eyes. It suddenly hit me that I wanted to leave so much less than I thought I did.

Six AM finally came. The GMC waited outside while we gathered the necessities- a thermos of hot tea, biscuits, juice, olives (olives?!) which my dad insisted we take with us in the car, etc. My aunt and uncle watched us sorrowfully. There’s no other word to describe it. It was the same look I got in my eyes when I watched other relatives and friends prepare to leave. It was a feeling of helplessness and hopelessness, tinged with anger. Why did the good people have to go?

I cried as we left- in spite of promises not to. The aunt cried… the uncle cried. My parents tried to be stoic but there were tears in their voices as they said their goodbyes. The worst part is saying goodbye and wondering if you’re ever going to see these people again. My uncle tightened the shawl I’d thrown over my hair and advised me firmly to ‘keep it on until you get to the border’. The aunt rushed out behind us as the car pulled out of the garage and dumped a bowl of water on the ground, which is a tradition- its to wish the travelers a safe return… eventually.

The trip was long and uneventful, other than two checkpoints being run by masked men. They asked to see identification, took a cursory glance at the passports and asked where we were going. The same was done for the car behind us. Those checkpoints are terrifying but I’ve learned that the best technique is to avoid eye-contact, answer questions politely and pray under your breath. My mother and I had been careful not to wear any apparent jewelry, just in case, and we were both in long skirts and head scarves.

The trip was long and uneventful, other than two checkpoints being run by masked men. They asked to see identification, took a cursory glance at the passports and asked where we were going. The same was done for the car behind us. Those checkpoints are terrifying but I’ve learned that the best technique is to avoid eye-contact, answer questions politely and pray under your breath. My mother and I had been careful not to wear any apparent jewelry, just in case, and we were both in long skirts and head scarves.

Syria is the only country, other than Jordan, that was allowing people in without a visa. The Jordanians are being horrible with refugees. Families risk being turned back at the Jordanian border, or denied entry at Amman Airport. It’s too high a risk for most families.

We waited for hours, in spite of the fact that the driver we were with had ‘connections’, which meant he’d been to Syria and back so many times, he knew all the right people to bribe for a safe passage through the borders. I sat nervously at the border. The tears had stopped about an hour after we’d left Baghdad. Just seeing the dirty streets, the ruins of buildings and houses, the smoke-filled horizon all helped me realize how fortunate I was to have a chance for something safer.

By the time we were out of Baghdad, my heart was no longer aching as it had been while we were still leaving it. The cars around us on the border were making me nervous. I hated being in the middle of so many possibly explosive vehicles. A part of me wanted to study the faces of the people around me, mostly families, and the other part of me, the one that’s been trained to stay out of trouble the last four years, told me to keep my eyes to myself- it was almost over.

It was finally our turn. I sat stiffly in the car and waited as money passed hands; our passports were looked over and finally stamped. We were ushered along and the driver smiled with satisfaction, “It’s been an easy trip, Alhamdulillah,” he said cheerfully.

As we crossed the border and saw the last of the Iraqi flags, the tears began again. The car was silent except for the prattling of the driver who was telling us stories of escapades he had while crossing the border. I sneaked a look at my mother sitting beside me and her tears were flowing as well. There was simply nothing to say as we left Iraq. I wanted to sob, but I didn’t want to seem like a baby. I didn’t want the driver to think I was ungrateful for the chance to leave what had become a hellish place over the last four and a half years.

The Syrian border was almost equally packed, but the environment was more relaxed. People were getting out of their cars and stretching. Some of them recognized each other and waved or shared woeful stories or comments through the windows of the cars. Most importantly, we were all equal. Sunnis and Shia, Arabs and Kurds… we were all equal in front of the Syrian border personnel.

We were all refugees- rich or poor. And refugees all look the same- there’s a unique expression you’ll find on their faces- relief, mixed with sorrow, tinged with apprehension. The faces almost all look the same.

The first minutes after passing the border were overwhelming. Overwhelming relief and overwhelming sadness… How is it that only a stretch of several kilometers and maybe twenty minutes, so firmly segregates life from death?

How is it that a border no one can see or touch stands between car bombs, militias, death squads and… peace, safety? It’s difficult to believe- even now. I sit here and write this and wonder why I can’t hear the explosions.

I wonder at how the windows don’t rattle as the planes pass overhead. I’m trying to rid myself of the expectation that armed people in black will break through the door and into our lives. I’m trying to let my eyes grow accustomed to streets free of road blocks, hummers and pictures of Muqtada and the rest…

How is it that all of this lies a short car ride away?


Connected…

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A little “Inspiration!”

This post has been running through my head for a couple of days, and I have put up some thoughts here, only to take them down, for fear that they would be read by particular readers. I feel like a school boy as of late, because I put my hand out and invited a new friend into my life, and there is a ritual to introducing new people into my circle.

Coming Out is still a daunting experience, at age 40. Every time I sit to write this post I get tongue tied and skiddish. Classes start and you try to find commonality with your peers and eventually one or two people step out of the fray and it is like God saying, “here you go, you wanted to meet new friends, well here they are!”

Over the next few days one gravitates in the direction of said people in class and you start with pleasantries and speaking to each other after class, and eventually something clicks and a friendship is summarily born. But for me, in religion and now theology circles, I am still an outsider.

Having to “Come out” to new friends is always daunting because you never know how people are going to react to your interest in them. Why would someone like me make a concerted effort to get to know someone – I can answer that question simply by stating that in listening and participating in class, “commonality” is usually my first connection to any one new that I want to get to know.

So I invite new friends to come here and read. Over the last few days many of my historical posts have been accessed from the memory banks – someone is reading about my history. My stories about being diagnosed, my life story and my AA story and as well, my parental sins page. Someone is interested in who I am by way of what has happened to me over the last fifteen years.

I proposed the “getting to know you” in the form of an invitation to my blog to break new friends in, so that they have a full understanding of where I am coming from and possibly begin dialogue and further discussions. I also invite my friends to break bread. Sharing a meal with someone is, in my book, a very important part of friendship. Many of my present friends also feel that sharing a meal is an integral part of our relationships. Going for coffee or having a meal together is a logical step in “Christian community.”

Silence is deafening.

The weekend is upon us and I haven’t heard back from my fellows and I can’t help but wonder that I have freaked them out by assuming that someone would want to engage me because of certain differences in out respective lives. Maybe I have hit a sore nerve or maybe the fact that I am observant of people and situations and I listen to what things are shared in class and outside of class.

I’ve stayed away from posting to allow my fellows to have time to read and sit with what they have read, following the traffic patterns, it seems today that the past has not been accessed in over 24 hours. I wonder what will happen if the weekend goes by and those people I have invited into my community decide not to engage. Life goes on and we must accept what people decide to do with information they have been given.

I am powerless over people, places and things…

Knowing that we are all adults and it is 2007, I was sure that we could make friends with people without having to worry about judgments or moral issues. I can’t change what has already happened and who I am today. I guess the topics of Gay, AIDS and Homosexuality will make good fodder for discussion in my Christian Ethics course, seeing we all attend this class. Maybe this will be a learning situation for everyone involved.

We all want for people to like us for who we are and not be put off by factors of our lives that they might not find acceptable. I am making assumptions here, but ant good man with HIV knows how to read signs, body language and signs. It is a gift that we were given long ago by the creator so that by peoples actions and reactions, we could judge their character and know whether to cut them loose or bring them closer.

I don’t know…

I did not expect to be emotionally caught up in this new friendship. But I am only human. They say never assume, and maybe I did assume that commonality would outweigh difference, that as adults we could find commonality and discuss what may bother us or what is bothering us already. God puts people in our paths for a reason, I guess I will have to wait and see what transpires in the coming days.

Like I said the other night,
I will be heartbroken if my fellows do not rise to the mark.


Final Thought of the Night …

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“He has told, O man, what is good, and what the LORD requires of you – to do justice, to love steadfastly, and to walk humbly with your God.” – Micah 6:8



Canadian Same-Sex Marriages Growing At 5 Times Rate Of Opposite-Sex Unions

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And WE are TWO of those 45,300 people…

by The Canadian Press

(Ottawa) Same-sex unions are growing at five times the rate of opposite-sex ones according to census numbers that also reveal, for the first time, the number of gay marriages in Canada.

Some 45,300 couples, both common law and married, reported as same-sex in the 2006 census, up from 34,200. Those numbers represent a 33 per cent surge since 2001, while heterosexual couples grew by just six per cent in the same time period.

The historic Statistics Canada query on same-sex marriage, coming in the wake of Parliament legalizing such unions in 2005, revealed 7,465 gay and lesbian marriages.

That’s considerably lower than numbers reported by the now-defunct advocacy group Canadians For Equal Marriage. The group, based on its own research of municipal records, reported last November that 12,438 marriage licenses had been granted to same-sex couples since provincial courts began recognizing such unions in 2003.

The census relegated same-sex marriages to a write-in category under the questionnaire’s ‘other’ box _ a move that raised the ire of Egale Canada. The national advocacy group responded by urging its membership to list their relationships as husband and wife.

“One box for everybody,” is how executive director Helen Kennedy described the group’s position.

“People are people and people just want the same things out of life. Your sexual orientation should not matter.”

Anne Milan, a senior analyst at Statistics Canada, stands by the accuracy of the census data but concedes the limitations of relying on the answers people provide.

“It’s the first time that we’ve asked same sex marriage so it’s really a benchmark number,” said Milan, who added it’s “difficult to say” what effect Egale’s dissent had on the numbers.

“Future census releases will allow us to compare the count and see what’s happening.”

The fact that the question was being asked at all shows that “people are getting on with their lives, which was fundamentally what the whole debate was about,” said Michael Leshner, a lawyer and one of Canada’s first legally married gay men.

“It’s really a debate that hopefully has run its course… We’re just part of the boring middle class now,” Leshner said.

According to the census, same-sex couples accounted for 0.6 per cent of all couples in Canada. That falls in line with numbers reported in the United States, New Zealand and Australia. More than half, or 54 per cent, of same-sex married Canadian spouses were men.

Some nine per cent of same-sex couples had children, more commonly in female unions (16 per cent) than male ones (three per cent). Children were present more in same-sex married couples (16 per cent) than common-law ones (eight per cent).

Clarence Lochhead of the Vanier Institute for the Family says the gay community’s successful fight for marriage reflects the desire to be accepted in the larger community.

“To the extent that you can think of the homosexual community feeling that they’re marginalized populations, I don’t think it’s all that surprising that they would want access to those forms of unions that are recognized in a much wider social community sense,” he said.

Ontario became the first province to legally recognize same-sex marriage following a 2003 decision from the Ontario Court of Appeal. Similar decisions followed in British Columbia, Quebec, Manitoba, Nova Scotia, Saskatchewan, Newfoundland and Labrador, Yukon, and New Brunswick.

On July 20, 2005, Canada became the third country in the world to legalize same-sex marriage, after the Netherlands and Belgium. Spain and South Africa have since legalized gay marriage as well.

“As my spouse Mike Starkel always says, we won. There’s nothing they can do, we won,” said Leshner.

©365Gay.com 2007