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Showing posts from September, 2007

Getting Through the Tests

Lack of power, that was our dilemma. We had to find a power by which we could live, and it had to be A POWER GREATER THAN OURSELVES. Obviously. But how and where were we to find this to find this Power? From chapter 4 "We Agnostics", Alcoholics Anonymous, the "AA Big Book" Thou hast written concerning the tests that have come upon thee. To the sincere ones, tests are as a gift from God, the Exalted, for a heroic person hasteneth, with the utmost joy and gladness, to the tests of a violent battlefield, but the coward is afraid and trembles and utters moaning and lamentation. Likewise, an expert student prepareth and memorizeth his lessons and exercises with the utmost effort, and in the day of examination he appeareth with infinite joy before the master. Likewise, the pure gold shineth radiantly in the fire of test. Consequently, it is made clear that for holy souls, trials are as the gift of God, the Exalted; but for weak souls they are an unexpected calamity. Th

On Death

(A clarification for concerned friends: No, I'm not dying. I'll go if called, but in the meantime, I have way too much to do while I'm here.) 23:4 Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me (King James Bible, Psalms) 8:6 Set me as a seal upon thine heart, as a seal upon thine arm: for love is strong as death; jealousy is cruel as the grave: the coals thereof are coals of fire, which hath a most vehement flame. (King James Bible, Song of Solomon) 1:17 And when I saw him, I fell at his feet as dead. And he laid his right hand upon me, saying unto me, Fear not; I am the first and the last: 1:18 I am he that liveth, and was dead; and, behold, I am alive for evermore, Amen; and have the keys of hell and of death. (King James Bible, Revelation) Know then that "life" hath a twofold meaning. The first pertaineth to the appearance of man in an elemental body, and is as mani

Malcolm X

I dedicate this to the Jena Six. I'm praying for all of you tonight.

Jena Six, a photo story (Jena6)

Much thanks to Liz, Los Angelista, for making me aware of this story. You know, it's strange. I hadn't heard of the Jena Six until Liz wrote on her blog about the case. And my father has been running CNN pretty much non-stop on my television for the past two weeks. I hear about OJ (and I'm tired of it), Iraq and Baby Bush and of course, Britney Spears. But no Jena Six. Not much on the local news, either. All right. Those of you who know me are guessing that I'm heated. Yes, I'm extremely heated right now, and when I get like this, I don't always make much sense. So instead of going one long, incoherent diatribe about racism still being alive and well in this country, I want to invite everyone who reads this blog to look the video. Then google Jena Six and read what has been written about this case while the rest of the country, myself included, has been sleeping. After you've read, watched and thought about all of it, tell me what you think. I

Michael Henderson - In The Summertime (1979)

O.K., so the middle-aged chick is feeling sentimental tonight! 1979--I was a junior at California State University at Sacramento. I had no idea what I was doing or where I was going in life, but I knew I loved Michael Henderson's music! (sigh) No one seems to sing or play music anymore. Thank God for youtube because it's pretty difficult to find some of these songs. They were popular on the R&B stations back in the 70s (and those stations would be equivalent to underground radio these days), but unless you lived in a city where the radio stations played this music, you'd be left listening to non-stop disco and thinking that's it. I loathed disco, and I'm willing to go on record saying that! Yes, Donna Summer can sing. But her talent was undermined by the material. Sorry. Just my opinion, feel free to disagree! Whoa...P.S.! I just realized something! You can move your cursor at the bottom of the video and play other songs! In that case, I dedicate &q

Minnie Riperton

No one sings like Minnie. I really miss her.

Miracles

...'God is sufficient unto me; He verily is the All-sufficing!' ....'In Him let the trusting trust.' (Shoghi Effendi, The Dawn-Breakers, p. 631) I intended to write a different blog today, but circumstances has created the need for me to do something different. I just have to say first of all, God is not just great, He is Infinitely Patient, Loving, Compassionate and Understanding. He has given me gifts that no pricey material items could ever match. Let me explain. I have been abstinent for two weeks. Abstinence for me means I eat three moderate meals plus two healthy snacks a day, although I often forget about the snacks. I wake up asking for God to give me the strength I need to get through the day abstinent. If that isn't enough, I'm abstinent even though my parents are living with me. Two years ago, I couldn't stay in the same room with my parents for more than ten minutes before running out for ice cream. Or pizza. Or whatever I could get

For the "High Tide On The Pacific"

I don't know what came over me today, but these words just seemed to resound in my ears all day long. So I figured I might as well write them down as soon as I had the chance. I love my job, but I couldn't wait for work to end today so I get home to write this. Whenever words come to me like this, I can't even think straight until I write them down. So here it is. Unbidden Like Sunrise Is it wrong? It is like Hera falling into autumn interrupting Apollo on the verge of his vernal equinox. In collusion, they find inspired solace and unabashed joy in the Garden of Words while the stars are reflected in the moon-lit shores of the Lakes of the Muse. Is this right? Is this Love? A flock of harpies answer with droppings of venom from their perches. Their foul, ancient breath feels like an unexpected meteor, burning across a parched white salt flat. For the first time, I'm afraid of fire and retreat under an abandoned graveyard. I'm ashamed of my cowardice and spend

Back from Bosch part 1

I've been avoiding the word "trust" in reference to my relationship to God for a long time now. To be more precise, I've mistrusted God more than I've mistrusted people. And I've trusted people very, very little. Now, I don't want to get into the twisted myriads of reasons why this has been. At this point, that particular discussion is irrelevant. All that matters is that I've opened the door to trusting God wider than a tiny crack, and already I've experienced more miracles in the past three days (or coincidences, for those of you who would rather believe that) than ever before. And believe me, I've seen and experienced a lot of what other people would call "pretty weird stuff", although to me it's just life as usual. I mean, doesn't everyone have doors that open and close by themselves, or lights turning on in a room before you enter it? That's so ordinary to me that I didn't think about it until someone happened to

Back from Bosch part 2

Then Mari asked me another question. "What would help you cry so you can heal?" I was dumbstruck by that one. Then, while I was sitting on the couch with no idea how to answer that question, I heard a voice say: ask Dan Popov to tell you a story. Immediately, I went into resistance. Uh, uh. No way. No flippin' way am I going to ask Dan Popov to tell me a story! That is the most absurd, ridiculous thing I've ever heard! What does that have to do with getting me to cry so I'll heal? After several minutes of arguing with the Concourse On High, Mari figured I had received instructions and I was resisting them. So she asked me what I heard. And I told her. She said, "Ang, you KNOW you have to do this." That's when I began arguing with Mari. Luckily, she's used to it. Finally, she said, "We have to go find Dan." And she practically pushed me out of the door, despite my loud and persistent protests. As we walked out of the lodge, I received a

Back from Bosch part 3

I had absolutely no idea what to make of that story. I thanked Dan, then Mari and I went to dinner. I kept rewinding the story in my brain, trying to understand what I was supposed to learn from it. I couldn't see much of a connection between me and Leroy, but I had promised Mari that we would discuss it after dinner. When the time came, I regretted my promise. We sat down at one of the picnic benches near the bookstore, where flies and mosquitoes launched well-planned attacks on my arms and face. In disgust, I moved to the to a table on the bookstore balcony, and Mari followed me. That's where the real healing began. She used the spiritual companioning technique help me open up, and to my horror, I heard myself talking about how I protected EVERYONE when I was five years old. Kids on the block used to run up to me and say, "Angie, Mikey keeps bothering us," and I would run over, give Mikey a quick and thorough beat-down and tell him to leave the other kids alone. The