Go see Lara Croft

I love this woman. Go visit her on the lake. Sit awhile under the blue skies or beneath the star bedecked canopy of night. Read her words and see yourself reflected in the waters of her vision.

Dona Nobis Pacem

Tuesday Post for Peace (or: It starts with me)

So I've decided that it's a complete waste of my time and energy to engage in any kind of hateful or non peaceful dialogue. I have yet to meet a person online whose worldview or mindset has been changed by this type of argument. Closed minds, and even many purporting to be open, seem to slam shut and set to the bulwarks of their defenses at the first hint of information that might cause their carefully erected arguments to be breached.
The war like terminology is used with intent.
If I eschew war, then I must needs eschew warlike behavior.
When I began blogging I thought it might be fun to engage here with differing viewpoints. In my naivetee, I didn't want to have (or to have it appear) that I sought only like minded persons and opinions. Although I'll continue to welcome thoughtful dialogue that may differ in content from my own worldview, I no longer seek it unless it is offered in the gentle language of love. I will continue to value and enjoy those bloggers and commenters who feed my spirit and come to me offering compassion, empathy and support.
As a very human (and sometimes cynical; although a self- styled "idealist" and "hopeful romantic") person, I will have moments of frustration and powerlessness that will drive me to the same sort of righteous surety in my positions as do we all. I will likely vent my spleen here, unless I find myself again caught up and overwhelmed. In which case I'll create another space in which to air my grievances and hopefully contain the poison therein from escaping and spilling over to poison this blog; this place of love and light and humor and human connection.

This said, today's Tuesday Post for Peace will Highlight AMMA:

Amma came to my attention some time ago via a friend, L.L.L. who had gone to see her and came away nothing short of amazed. Serendipitally, a long time friend and fellow artist, Tamara of Glass Majik, stopped by to comment on my last Thursday Thirteen "Peace in 13 Random Languages" post to let me know about Amma.

A few excerpts from her page:

On the morning of the 27th of September 1953, in a small poor fishing village, Parayakadavu in the Quilon district of Kerala, a baby girl was born. Her parents gave her the name Sudhamani. She came into this world not in tears as babies usually do, but with a beaming smile on her face, as if prophesying the joy and bliss she was to bring to the world.

She later said, " An unbroken stream of Love flows from me towards all beings in the cosmos. That is my inborn nature."

For the past 35 years Amma has dedicated her life to the uplifting of suffering humanity through the simplest of gestures – an embrace. In this intimate manner Amma had blessed and consoled more than 25 million people throughout the world.

And from amritapuri.org

To be in Her presence is to experience the best that life has to offer...
a river of unconditional love, accepting anyone and everyone,
and cleansing all their impurities.
Luminous rays of grace, radiating wisdom and joy...
like the earth bearing us on her bosom.
By her love, consoling us, nourishing us, instilling faith in us...
in whose presence, the innocence of a child awakens within...
the world becomes a wonder.
Such this and more is Mata Amritanandamayi Devi,
Amma, Mother of Immortal Bliss.

She will be in my area (So. Cal.) soon:

June 17 Sunday, 18 Monday
Los Angeles (Public Programs 10.00 & 19.30 hrs)
Hilton Los Angeles Airport
5711 West Century Blvd., Los Angeles, CA - 90045

June 21 Thursday (19.00 hrs)
Los Angeles (Devi Bhava)
Hilton Los Angeles Airport
5711 West Century Blvd., Los Angeles, CA - 90045

A hug from this woman would be amazing, eh??

Here is the Itinerary for Amma's visit to USA, Canada , Chile

I want to go. Maybe I can. We'll see. Give someone a hug today.

Peace Out!!

Tuesday Post for Peace on Humpday

I dunno, kids. I spent the better part of yesterday following yet another flame war across the blogosphere. This one just happened to be another supposed Feminist issue. As near as I could tell after reading some 20 posts and over 500 comments, the issue was the "bashing" of "Radfems" by some more moderate Feminists who felt bashed by them. I never really did get exactly how everyone felt so terribly offended, but it was easy enough to see both sides and that it had simply spiraled out of control, ultimately aquiring a life of its own as these things are wont to do.

I know I had the Tuesday Post For Peace on my mind while I was reading, and I was nearly overwhelmed with sadness. By the end of the day I was exhausted, disheartened, and couldn't even imagine how I could write about peace. By the end of the day, I couldn't even imagine what peace would look like. What it would feel like... sound or taste like. By the end of one more day cruising the blogosphere, the word "Peace" was just that; a word.

An empty concept.

Nothing real, that I could get a hold of with my mind and even begin to imagine.

I could sit here now and spin you a tale of magick and mystery; of mythical beasts inhabiting a world of colour and sound and sweetness that would fill your heart and feed your spirit. A world that you could see and touch; if only in your mind.

But, peace? I can't do it. My mind is stifled with reality; my imagination clogged with human nature. I'm overwhelmed with people doing the wrong things for the right reasons. With people whose intention is unity while their actions divide; whose goal is education and enlightenment, while their means become dogma.

I know I started writing about the Feminist flamewar, but I need to be clear; flamewars abound in the blogosphere, and they are called wars for a reason. Our discontent, our outrage, our righteous anger has overflowed in nearly every arena I can think of.

Democrats bash republicans bash democrats while greenies and libertarians bash them both. Religions bash each other while religious fundies bash secularists bash religionists and they both bash the moderates while the moderates bash them both. Feminists bash each other bashing the patriarchy which bashes feminism. Men bash women bash men.

There is no peace. We are all so sure we have the answers that no one is willing to listen to anyone else. S/he who yells loudest or carries the biggest stick wins. The moderates in any arena get swept into the fray and decried as "fence sitters", or even attacked for their unwillingness to "choose sides".

When I began this blog, I hoped for some interaction; some debate, discourse. I was "spoilin' for a fight", because isn't it fun. When I'm in a mood I am wont to troll fundy clips at clipmarks and do a little baiting. There is always something to argue about. And if the opposing opinion is rude or undereducated or dyslexic ins't it wonderful to shut them down with snide remarks or wow everyone reading with my intellect and reason. And even when I'm not looking for a fight there is always something or someone who offends me in their righteous surety of their position, although I'm just as righteous of mine. And don't I just feel so superior in my own surety.

There is no peace.

Peace must needs be found within me. I have found myself wanting.

This seems to be the central truth I have discovered. How can I possibly preach or teach peace when I have so little within me. I call myself "Idealist" and am as unable to live up to my ideals as is the majority of humanity.

If I choose peace, I must needs be peaceful.
If I choose love, I must needs be loving.
If I choose knowledge and education, I must needs educate and know myself.

Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law.
Love under Will. Love is the Law.

From Wikipedia:

"The three Aeons

The first Aeon of Isis was maternal, where the female aspect of the Godhead was revered due to a mostly matriarchal society and the idea that "Mother Earth" nourished, clothed and housed man. It was characterized by pagan worship of the Mother and Nature. Crowley describes this period as "simple, quiet, easy, and pleasant; the material ignores the spiritual" (Equinox of the Gods).

The Classical/Medieval Aeon of Osiris is considered to be dominated by the paternal principle and the formula of the Dying God. This Aeon was characterized by that of self-sacrifice and submission to the Father God. Crowley says of this Aeon:

Formula of Osiris, whose word is IAO; so that men worshiped Man, thinking him subject to Death, and his victory dependent upon Resurrection. Even so conceived they of the Sun as slain and reborn with every day, and every year. (Heart of the Master)

He also says of the Aeon of Osiris in Equinox of the Gods:

the second [Aeon] is of suffering and death: the spiritual strives to ignore the material. Christianity and all cognate religions worship death, glorify suffering, deify corpses.

The modern Aeon of Horus, is portrayed as a time of self-realization as well as a growing interest in all things spiritual, is considered to be dominated by the principle of the child. The Word of its Law is Thelema (will) which is complimented by Agape (love), and its formula is Abrahadabra. Individuality and finding the True Will are the dominant aspects; its formula is that of growth, in consciousness and love, toward self-realization.

Of the Aeon of Horus, Crowley writes:

the crowned and conquering child, who dieth not, nor is reborn, but goeth radiant ever upon His Way. Even so goeth the Sun: for as it is now known that night is but the shadow of the Earth, so Death is but the shadow of the Body, that veileth his Light from its bearer. (Heart of the Master)

And also:

The Aeon of Horus is here: and its first flower may well be this: that, freed of the obsession of the doom of the Ego in Death, and of the limitation of the Mind by Reason, the best men again set out with eager eyes upon the Path of the Wise, the mountain track of the goat, and then the untrodden Ridge, that leads to the ice-gleaming pinnacles of Mastery! (Little Essays Towards Truth, "Mastery") "

*emphasis mine

Peace out.

Tuesday Post for Peace #2

(1,000,000 blogs for peace.org)

'kay... I'm barely awake and not a happy camper this morning, having awakened to discover that my cellphone service has been "interrupted" despite the fact that I made an online payment yesterday (when the hell is technology gonna catch up with itself??).
It didn't help, I'm sure, to be assaulted by the fetid odour of dog shit as I heated my coffee and fed the parrots while the insidious knowledge that all was not well in Thorneshouse insinuated itself into my consciousness via olfactory alarm. A lovely pile awaits my courage yet, which has me grumpy and dreading my living room.
Anyway, this is the One Million Blogs for Peace Post, so I suppose I oughta get "peaceful" and post!

I'm struck more than anything today, after Memorial Weekend, at the hopelessness and helplessness most of our Warriors must be feeling right now. I'm going to call our troops/soldiers/people "Warriors" from now on, I think.

I know that probably sounds crazy, being a peace person and against this war, but I'm just gonna feel my way through this (because it has nothing to do with logic, and everything to do with feelings).

I've been ambivalent about the term "Troops" for as long as I can remember. First of all, it always evoked thoughts for me of either a "group"; like a "troop of jugglers", or of an old TV sitcom called "F troop" (I think). Not being a military person, a war monger or strategist, I always though "troop" was a plural term; referring to many - not one.
I thought it combined the one into many, like, I suppose a "unit" or something.
I was pretty okay with referring to our Warriors as "Troops" when I though it unified them in some way. When I thought it made "many" of "one", united by their commonality. It kinda seemed a little okay to refer to these people this way, if it expressed that - their togetherness; ya know?
When I realized the word referred to each person in an individual way, while taking away their individuality all at the same time it kinda freaked me out. Okay, okay, I know... can't call them "soldiers" (I think that's army?) and marines are marines and sailors are sailors and air force are... ? Patriots doesn't work for many reasons, a few being that most of those people over there, our Warriors, aren't feeling too patriotic these days, as well as the word's inference to some other political crap having to do with revolution and resistance and stuff like that...
So what I've come to is my choice of the word "Warrior".

Wikipedia gives us this:

A warrior is a person habitually engaged in warfare. In tribal societies engaging in endemic warfare, warriors often form a caste or class of their own. In feudalism, the vassals essentially form a military or warrior class, even if in actual warfare, peasants may be called to fight as well. In some societies, warfare may be so central that the entire people (or, more often large parts of the male population) may be considered warriors, for example in the Iron Age Germanic tribes or the Medieval Rajputs.

Professional warriors are people who are paid money for engaging in military campaigns and fall into one of two categories: Soldiers, when fighting on behalf of their own state; or mercenaries, when offering their services commercially and unrelated to their own nationality. The classification of somebody who is involved in acts of violence may be a matter of perspective, and there may be disagreement whether a given person is a hooligan, gangster, terrorist, rebel, freedom fighter, mercenary or a soldier.

I won't argue. All I can say is that if our people over there are have a group with which they can identify, a family, so far away from their homes and family, then "Warrior" is as good a family as any.
I think my love for this term comes from a book I read many years ago, entitled The Way of the Peaceful Warrior. It speaks to the warrior in all of us; that noble heart who wills change and is willing to fight for it. Our warriors began this war in Iraq fighting for an ideal. That ideal has been shattered beyond repair in most of them by now; yet still, they must fight.
So let them be Warriors of Peace, because they are fighting in their own hearts and souls with every step they take... every breath.
And bless their hearts. Every damned one of them.