Let The Spirit Move You

The dew of compassion is a tear... ~Lord Byron

Make NO judgement where you have NO compassion!

No man is a true believer unless he desires for his brother that which he desires for himself. ~Muhammad

Of all religions, the Christian should, of course, inspire the most tolerance, but until now Christians have been the most intolerant of all men. ~Voltaire

Judge not, that ye be not judged. For with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged, and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you. ~Matthew 7:1-2 KJV

http://youtu.be/0a45z_HG3WU  Everything Is Beautiful~Ray Stevens
http://youtu.be/wlR0KElxxVg  I’d Like to Teach the World to Sing~The New Seekers
http://youtu.be/M9BNoNFKCBI We Are the World {Issue is different~Message is the same}
http://youtu.be/sSzukDkftL8 Make It Stop~Rise Against

                                                                Love and Only Love....

Today is Spirit Day.  For those who don’t know what that is, it’s a day of observance that was decreed by a Canadian teenager named Brittany McMillan back in October of 2010, because she was outraged and saddened over bullying that was taking place, and she wanted to do SOMETHING to show her support to lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender [LGBT] youth who were suffering as a result of this juvenile yet barbaric act.  The concept was simple: wear purple for the day to show your support to those who are victims of bullying simply because of their differences.
The name Spirit Day was derived from the purple strip in the Rainbow Flag which represents “spirit” as defined by its creator, Gilbert Baker.
Back in 2010, there was a rash of widely publicized bullying-related-suicides of gay students.  It was brought to the forefront of national attention with the jumping death of 18-year-old, Tyler Clementi.  As a result of these tragedies, 1.6 million Facebook users signed up to participate in McMillian’s global event that garnered the attention of GLADD as well as many Hollywood celebrities.  Since then, it’s become an annual day of observance in October, when people don purple to show we are united in this effort to stop the bullying and let the LGBT community know that we stand both in support of them and with them.
As a woman, I have felt discrimination before.  Sadly, I’ve even felt discrimination in my life because I’ve battled with weight issues on and off for most of my life. One time during my working life, I had the unfortunate dealings with a boss who was for lack of a better word an insensitive jerk about an issue that was none of his business; had nothing to do with the job I was hired to perform; and, was a TRUE pot meet kettle moment, if you know what I mean!   I could have sued him and probably should have just to teach him a lesson, but I believe the energy we dispense is what comes back to us, and I really didn’t want all that negativity floating around me.  HE wasn’t worth it.  That much I knew.
What I cannot fathom is being discriminated against because of who I love. I just can’t imagine that, and I have tried.  I also can’t imagine being teased mercilessly over that choice.
I remember 20 years ago when I was working as a Sales Manager in an area hotel, I worked with a man who was a Minister outside of being a Sales Manager in our hotel.  He and I had a lot of interesting discussions on religion.  He was very open to honest exchange in thoughts and ideas.  I remember one particular night on the evening news the reporting of a story that indicated that studies were being done that linked homosexuality to a genetic component.  It wasn’t conclusive, but more and more studies were being done to attempt to unlock the key to determine if this trait in homosexual individuals was inherited like height, eye color, hair color, etc.  It’s been a debate for a long time.
Naturally, it was the topic of conversation the following morning between Rick and I over coffee.  It was obvious that he wasn’t comfortable with the idea of it, because he said that the Bible was very specific on the condemnation of that “type” of behavior.
“What if it’s proven right, Rick?” I asked. “What if it’s a genetic determiner?”
“I don’t want to think about it,” I remember him saying.
“You need to think about it,” I cautioned.  Then, I told him why I felt that way.
Basically what I told him was this: if there ever comes a day when science is able to prove that one’s sexuality is as inherent to an individual as their eye color, hair color, height, weight, blood type — all those things that are pre-determined by genetics, then religious institutions have a problem because of what they are espousing.  How can one be condemned to hell for how they are made – for a trait that’s as natural to them as the color of their eyes or hair? [And, for the record, let me say that I believe in a loving and forgiving God, not ALL hell-fire and brimstone.]
As argument, Rick reminded me that the Bible was written by divinely inspired men of God.
“Ah, yes!” I replied.  “But nowhere has it ever been stated that THEY were exempt from sin!”
He looked at me funny.  He knew I was a good debater.  He knew I came to the table with thought-provoking arguments.
This is what I brought to the table:
The Bible only mentions one person who has ever walked this earth exempt–free from all sin and that person was Jesus Christ.  I was raised with a very strict religious upbringing, and it was taught in my church that where the Bible was silent in scripture, no inferences could be made.  None.  Had the authors wanted exposition added, they would have done so.  The fact that it was not expounded upon by them meant that it was not to be expounded upon by us.
Likewise and yes, I agree, the men who wrote the Bible were divinely inspired by God — so are musicians and painters and poets.  The Bible does not say that these men were given an exemption status while they were penning their portions–that they were no longer mortal, flawed men.  I’ve never read that anywhere in the good book.  If it’s not in there, you cannot tell me that “divinely inspired” means that, otherwise, everyone who was divinely inspired would get to claim that same benefit.   You can’t have it both ways!   My point is that there are many theologians who argue about the Bible and it’s validity in terms of merit-on-point.  It is chock full of contradictions.  If you don’t believe me, read it for yourself.  I was amazed watching a nun on 60 Minutes one Sunday night pointing them out.  Please hear me when I say that this is NOT a slam against the Bible!  It’s merely stating a fact.   Likewise, the Bible was written in languages, Hebrew, Aramaic and Greek, that cannot be accurately translated into English.  In other words, there are many meanings given to one word.  Which is the accurate meaning?  And, where there isn’t a very good language-to-language translation of meaning, and it’s translated as closely as it can be to what it should mean in English, what are we suppose to make of that?  I had a friend, Hadas, back in the 80's who was from Israel and spoke Hebrew as her primarily language.  She’s the one who told me that there are entire words in the original language of the Bible’s text that cannot be accurately translated into English.  It gave me pause.  It is but one reason that scholars debate it.   If I’ve got six words that represent an interpretation for one word, which one am I suppose to choose as the gospel?  It’s problematic.
Don’t get me wrong.  I was raised on this book.   My foundation is based upon it. I believe in its overall beautiful and inspiring message.  I’m just able to see it in proper context: it’s NOT all black and white, and I’m not being blasphemous for recognizing and stating that fact.  Case in point: when I was a young girl, one of my best friends at church, I’ll call her, Nancy, for the sake of this entry, was a tomboy.  I was a girly girl.  We got to be good friends at our church summer camp one year.  
It was only when I was in my 20's that my mother told me that my friend, Nancy, had been born a “hermaphrodite”.   I believe the politically correct term now for people born with this condition is inter-sexed.  A hermaphrodite/inter-sexed person is someone who is born with the reproductive organs normally associated with both male and female sexes.  BOTH. Stop and think about that for a minute.  If they have both a penis and a vagina, what does that make them when they partner up with another person?  Confusing, isn’t it?  It’s definitely not black or white, but rather a very complex shade of gray, which is what I tried to tell my friend, Rick, many years ago.   Nancy’s parents had chosen to have her live as a girl, but what if they hadn’t?  What if they had left both sets of organs in place for her to determine, as she got older, how she wanted to live her life — the direction she wanted to go?  How would society classify her based on who she loved?  Gay? Straight?  Bisexual?  Was it even a fair assessment?  Or, what if Nancy’s parents had chosen wrong for her, and as she got older and puberty kicked in, she felt more like a boy than a girl?  Would it be wrong for her to have “those” feelings since SHE had been born with both male and female genitalia in the first place?    Gray matter....that’s what it is.  It’s not that cut and dry.  It’s not that easy to classify, and one shouldn’t be condemned because of a situation like that, which they had absolutely no control over.  I’ve often wondered about Nancy – how she is doing?  If she is happy?  If her parents made the right decision for her so, so many years ago?
I wonder about those other people who are born with inter-sexed conditions and who choose to live an androgynous life.  Are they never suppose to love, if they happen to find love?  Is that right or fair?
Compassion.  I was raised to have it for my fellow brothers and sisters of the world.  Tolerance. I have learned to embrace the differences that separate me from others, not as something bad and evil, unless you are hurting a child, an animal, an elderly person, or someone who is defenseless, but as something that is unique and good.  Love is never a bad thing, unless it’s being abused.
There are far too many divides felt in this world today that a little love, compassion, tolerance and understanding wouldn’t go a LONG way to help heal and bridge.  Lord, it’s time to build the bridges of love and understanding that divide us!  Hate is not something that a child is born with.  It is a learned behavior.  And, bullying is as much a cry for help to the one who’s doing the picking on as the one being picked upon.
Our world needs a big embrace of love and compassion - the whole world over.  Think what a place it would be if collectively we all hugged one another in the spirit of love and only love.  I do believe that heaven would drift down to earth and the smile of God would be so large that EVERY person would feel the warmth generating from the happiness being felt from above.
John Lennon once said, “you may say, ‘I’m a dreamer...’ but I’m not the only one...” I don’t believe I am either.  Just imagine it for a second...  That which we imagine we give power to.  That’s the kind of holy roller moment that I’m talking about!  Scripture says with God, ALL things are possible!  Yes, indeed.  Indeed they are.  Let’s make some things possible: like no more bullying.  How about no more name calling?  How about to every young person out there you remember this: God loves you – just the way you are!  He made you, and he doesn’t make junk!  In your moments of despair, when you feel alone, remember that YOU ARE LOVED!  If you need to hear it in whatever moment you are in, go listen to Josh Groban!  He’ll tell you so!  Don’t give up!  Moments in life – especially the bad ones are temporary.  Don’t take a permanent action to solve a temporary life-moment.  Stop! Take a breath and know that it will pass.  It will! There are not many things I know for certain, but that is one thing that I can assure you of with complete certainty!
I wasn’t fortunate enough to have my children live their lives with me here on earth.  Had I been blessed to mother them through these difficult years, I would have said to them, “You are a rare blessing!  Do not let anyone EVER make you feel less than the unique gift that you are to this world!  Whoever you are is okay!  Just be the best you that you can be, and that will be good enough for your father and I!”  If there is one child out there who isn’t getting that message from home, than you come here and take it from me, because I will gladly offer it to you here, and I will send you a cyberhug to go along with... (((HUG))) You are loved! You are loved! Don’t EVER forget that!!!!
Martin Scorsese once said that as he’s gotten older, he has more of a tendency to look for people who live by kindness, tolerance, compassion, and a gentler way of looking at things.  Yes, Martin.  That’s right!  Those are exactly the glasses we should look through as we get older because everyone is fighting some kind of battle in this life... Everyone.  Be kind....it doesn’t cost you anything, but it might mean the world to them....

http://youtu.be/_pqGOf_V2T4  Love Can Build a Bridge~The Judds
http://youtu.be/aEOuWCIikVc  You Are Loved~Josh Groban *I posted a different version of this in an entry the other day....it “bears” ;-) repeating...

Goodbye, Irene

"Who has seen the wind?
Neither you nor I:
But, when the trees bow down their heads,
The wind is passing by."
~Christina Rossetti~


 A week ago, my husband and I were sitting in the dark, in our house on the outskirts of Richmond, Virginia, where we live. We’d lost power about 1:50 p.m. that Saturday afternoon, and already witnessed the uprooting of a neighbor’s 100 year-old Oak tree. It had been tossed into the street like it was nothing more than a discarded toothpick. The winds were howling and whipping sheets of rain in a line across our house. It was eerie. Buzz saws had already been fired up once to cut a portion of the tree apart so that it could be moved from blocking the road, in case someone had an emergency and needed access out of the neighborhood. It went like that for the better part of 15 hours: howling winds, whipping rain and the sounds of trees taking flight as they crashed onto roads or into houses.
My husband and I sat on our front porch, with our puppies wrapped in our laps, huddled in a corner to stay out of the direct path of anything flying that doesn’t typically fly in the night. We didn’t know how long an ordeal we were facing? As it turns out, we were blessed because our inconvenience only lasted, as I said, for 15 hours. Still, we didn’t know it at the time as we tried to find ways to occupy the long night that stretched ahead. It was hot but, thank God, not ungodly hot. We played games of Parcheesi, and listened to the radio. Yes, we’d loaded up on batteries and candles and bottled water, peanuts and honey and other staples that didn’t need refrigeration.
My husband and I, after all, had both grown up in Florida. We knew a thing or two about hurricane’s and how to ride them out - being prepared. I had an added bonus: Girl Scout training: ALWAYS be prepared. It’s a philosophy that serves one well in life. This particular experience wasn’t new to either of us, by any means, but I find that the older I get, the less I care to find out just how "brave" I can be! I’m brave. I don’t need to prove it to myself or anyone else anymore. It’s a given. I KNOW it; that's all that matters, But, when we were kids, a hurricane on its way to our neck of the woods was an adventure. As adults....not so much!
I remember years ago, in particular, Hurricane David that blew through Jacksonville, Florida on Labor Day Weekend 1979. At the time, my parents were separated, and we lived in a town-home community. We weren’t going to let something like some high winds and heavy rains dampen OUR holiday weekend. We taped our windows with the X going across them; we filled the tub with water and had batteries galore.
We were prepared for him to show up so that we could "kick some @$$" as the guys would say. When you’re young and don’t know better, you can talk big like that. What really happened was that several of the neighbors banded together, and we made a kind of "Him-a-Cane" party out of David’s arrival. We had been warned by Mr. Winterling [George/our weatherman] that the power was going to be out for days so people should make a contingency plan for that. I had a black and white 5" televison with a radio attached and batteries out the ying-yang! It could also be plugged into a running vehicle’s cigarette lighter to charge the batteries or watch the tv....[BE Prepared!] Also, our friends and neighbors, The Whites, had a gas grill. The adults talked and decided that if power was going to be out for several days, we might as well cook the food in the freezer, set it out for people to eat and watch The Jerry Lewis Labor Day MDA Telethon. We made lemonade out of lemons, and it was memorable, and it bonded us to our neighbors in ways we'd not been previously bonded. We had a block party that was more fun than anything we could have planned without the backdrop of the hurricane. I met people whom I’d never known before in the neighborhood but was comfortable with, after the "getting to know you" session brought about because of that storm. If we ever needed anything - any help at all, they told my mother and I, that we could come to them. Our circle of friends had been expanded because of a Hurricane’s wrath.
So, it was with Irene. When a 100 year-old tree was uprooted like a toothpick from our neighbor’s yard and tossed across the street, blocking access, that "old help philosophy" kicked in. Three trucks pulled up in our front yard and neighbors got out without saying a word. They walked over to where the other guys were buzz-sawing the part of the tree that was impeding cars from being about to get in and out of the cul-de-sac. They stood there in yellow slickers as torrential winds and rains pelted them; did what they had to do, then went on back to their homes. It was an amazing thing to witness. Neighborly. That’s what it’s called, and I'm happy to report that it still exists today. That’s probably one of the positives that came from Irene: in this day and age, when everyone is connected through electronic social networking and communication is predominantly done via a text, it’s good to see some old tried and true form of communication still in existence.
It’s also true that the worst situations, from my experience, bring out the best in people. Many in our area, as of a week later, still did not have power. A few days ago, my husband offered to let any of his co-workers drop by the house to take a hot shower - have a cup of coffee if they wanted to. No one took him up on it, but sometimes, it’s just having the offer that matters – it’s knowing you can do it if you really need to, that gives you the strength to keep going. Options. They’re important to have when one is down and out...
Another thing my husband and I talked about as we weathered the night was how spoiled a society we’ve become. We take for granted things that we consider basic necessities which, 100 years ago didn’t exist for many people: indoor plumbing [bathrooms]; air conditioning; fully electrolyzed homes. How on earth did they survive it? Our forefathers and mothers truly were a heartier stock of people. I know this much about myself: I couldn’t do it - not for a sustained period of time. Even when forced to do it, it’s a challenge. I don’t do excessive heat very well. There is a grumpiness that begins to take root. Trust me, it doesn’t take much either to stir the grumpy pot either.
I remember being a little girl and visiting my grandparents' farm. They didn’t have central air in the house. The bedrooms had cross-breeze ventilation and nothing more unless it was a box fan in the window. I remember a window-box ac unit in the family room where the large, black wood stove was as well. That room was closed off from the rest of the house. It was where the tv was and the telephone. Yeah, they had one of each. No more. It wasn’t needed! My grandparents didn’t live in a society of excess. They lived in an era of practicality. You slept in the bedroom; you ate in the kitchen; you bathed and took care of other matters in the bathroom. Period. You gathered in the family room to watch television or accept a phone call. If you needed privacy regarding the phone call, you could walk out in the room that had a freezer and an armoire and sit on the floor, but that was it. There’s something to be said for that.
Likewise, my parents were in their 30's before they had a television in their bedroom, and it was a tiny little colored 19-inch box on a T-stand. We thought they’d hit the lottery. The most elaborate electronic devise any of us kids had in our room was a record player, the ones that use to play 45 and 78 vinyls. Kids of this generation probably wouldn’t have a clue what they were today. I’ve never felt old until the differences between my childhood and the childhood of kids today was compared. Amazing thing is that it wasn’t that long ago. More amazing still, we didn’t miss not having a tv in our bedroom, and computers here, there and everywhere.... It truly is a George Jetson world we are now living in! That’s one of the realizations my husband and I came to as we texted a few friends and family members to let them know that we were okay, as the winds howled and the rains pelted and a stirred-up lady named, Irene, raged all around us. A sci-fi cartoon of our youth had become a reality, and we truly live now in that George Jetson world that seemed SO far-fetched and unreal as a kid.
As we played our third game of Parcheesi amidst the glow of candlelight and the light cast-off from flashlights, we vowed that we were going to take more time as autumn approaches and the weather becomes cooler to sit out on the front porch, turn off the tv, leave the laptops inside and sit in our rocking chairs to talk like we did in days of yore. It truly is becoming a lost art: verbal communication. For some, it’s already a lost art. We’re going to make a cup of coffee or a glass of ice-tea and go sit on the porch to talk about our day before we make supper. There is an intimacy and a connectedness in doing that, which is as relevant today as it was 100 years ago. I wish more people understood that simple truth. It’s one of the lessons we learned from Irene. The ties that bind us as a couple, a family or a community are some of the simpler, more basic methods of communicating that are dying out like the North American mountain lion, the Florida Panther or the Mannatee. It’s sad...
Irene wasn’t the biggest hurricane to blow along the east coast nor was she the baddest! Granted, she left a LOT of destruction in her wake; caused a great deal of stress; for some, she brought sorrow, and for most who encountered her, a headache. But, she also served as a reminder that some of the very things that we were deprived of, i.e. t.v., computer, video games, etc. wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, because it gave us time, in a forced kind of way, which is sometimes what it takes, to actually talk to each other face-to-face instead of via text, email or cell phone. It gave us time to rediscover the fun in playing a board game; it gave us an opportunity to clear our minds from all the outside noise that clutters our thoughts so that we could actually hear our thoughts for a change, share them with another and receive theirs in a verbal- context return. Imagine that? Conversing verbally in the same room. It CAN still be done!
So, while Irene was a BIG pain in the @$$; she was also a blessing of sorts – however mixed it came to us, we found something positive to take away from her visit.
Goodbye, Irene and goodnight.....we’re glad to see you go! You were a major inconvenience, but you did manage to leave an indelible mark on us with regard to the truly important things in life, and therein we found the blessing of you. We’ll be implementing some of the things we did during those 15 hours as part of our daily routine....bring back heart-to-heart talks sitting on the front porch and sharing a beverage; exchanging hearty laughter as we play board games again and feel that healthy, competitive spirit return within us, as we realize how blest we truly are that the company we’re keeping is actually with someone we truly enjoy keeping company with. Try it sometime....you may just be pleasantly surprised.

Written by Jhill Perran
September 3, 2011