Posts Tagged ‘Family’


A person is a person, because he recognizes others as persons.

-Desmond Tutu

The risk of belonging is that it is using the space now open to all through physical, linguistic, theological—inclusionary lens and accessible building…to move beyond simple existence. It is recognizing one another as persons, with intrinsic value, worth, goodness and blessedness.

This is a risk, because opening one self up then you cannot create an shouting match of hatred. There is no threat to you because of rules governing public space to allow all to exist, for they all are included. Now it is at the more personal level, to be able to engage one another as simply persons. This is the grand risk.

Why?

Simple.

No longer the other. But neighbour.

Once neighbour there is the risk of becoming friend. Then that runs the risk of becoming chosen family.

All three of these risks carry with it the greatest risk of all:

You or the neighbour will be missed (grieved) when you are no longer there.

Children are a wonderful gift. They have an extraordinary capacity to see into the heart of things and to expose sham and humbug for what they are.

-Desmond Tutu

This is why children are so wonderful in seeing beyond our worldly imposed bull shit. They see each other, and everyone already simply as they are.

And you know what happens when we take the risk of stepping outside our own boundaries? What happens when we acknowledge the included as persons? When we acknowledge them as neighbour? Perhaps become friends or chosen family?

We belong.

And it is in belonging…that is the greatest risk.

Are you ready for the greatest risk taken in your community? Home? Self?

Are you ready to open yourself up to belong?

For others to belong?

For with the risk of belonging comes a deeper risk.

The risk of being grieved.

Are you willing to open yourself up to the circle of life?

The circle of belonging?

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It was the flashbacks I truly did not want to relive. A week from hell for me emotionally, mentally and spiritually as the last vestige of healing scar tissue was torn away through neuro events. But it is the struggle to reclaim what is good in the memory, to re-heal. Not just succumb to the darkness of loss. Yet it is hard when you realize how drastically a system failed her, a system that sees nothing wrong in their actions, a system that blamed her child for not bringing her out of the mental illness they calcified in her soul. Her battle with cancer was long with many ups and downs that saw her transition living facilities many times throughout the years. From homestead to lodge to hospital to long-term care. The unfortunate piece of our health care system is no acknowledging the need for holistic care of the individual for cancer is not just physiological—it strips a person emotionally, mentally and spiritually. Therefore, we see defeat, anger, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Depression and Anxiety. But the system is not designed to continually engage people at appropriate levels, I saw events planned that would hold no interest for anyone regardless of their capacity or health yet the system pushed these out as “social events” to build resiliency. A system where an ill-trained palliative person told my Mum she was dying. That night on the phone was one of the few times I heard my Mum swear with her “No shit Sherlock” comment…but it was the beginning of the downward, for it had made real that which her faith had been fighting against in our many phone talks multiple times a day, or when my family would visit her as often as we could.

But the time she heard the nurse yell at me in the hallway:

“You’re her son, get her to chipper up she’s only dying and has become a depressing person. That’s your job to make her happy and fix it.”

-The Nurse

                The nurse did not appreciate my retort and it is a family blog. But I saw pain in my Mum’s eyes for now she believed she was a burden.

It took a lot to get through the hassles and hoops of institutions from health to religion to get an Anglican priest to spend time with her. After she was broken spiritually and had given up her phone to speak to the outside world. The time of reconciliation when I spoke with her after the visit brought her soul piece. It proves to me that when talk of being palliative happens with patients there needs to be acknowledgement of their spiritual cultural roots and individuals from those roots should be involved in bringing the news, and reading the situation (and many who have known me know that I have been the one to sit and walk during this time). I do believe her outcome may not have changed, but the path there would have been immensely different.

Her last weekend, though, my old life loving Mum resurged, and she had time to play a little, joke and sing a little with her grandkids. Her Leland, had become her pal of comfort on family times and events ensuring his Nana was taken care of by sitting next to her and even with his cerebral palsy getting her things she needed. Her little Princess, was all about the songs and dancing and fancy Nancy times (My Mum would always chuckle how she skinned her chicken nuggets when we would go to McDonald’s). My kids were born after my Mum was diagnosed, but this weekend, this day I know it was the simpler joy of being family that mattered.

Sadly, a few days later my Mum’s journey would transition her to as my daughter always believes, the “great tea party” in Heaven being simply love.  Centennial Presbyterian Church would continue being apart of the life journey of our family (both myself and my daughter are VBS kids, we as a family had been members for a time).

It was the last place my Mum would publicly hear me preach.

“We could always come to your Mum if our family needed food and she had this pantry”

-Neighbour at her Celebration of Life Tea

It is the spiritual place that opened their building to our family. A place I celebrated her life, and yes even in the whispers I heard the hecklers stating I dishonoured, but allowed the majority of those that saw her light shine through drown out. For I knew I had shared everything she told me she wanted in a simple service, before high tea.

“Everything I have heard today makes me wish I could have known this quirky amazing loving lady who was a neighbour and Mum to many”

-Rev. Smith (from Centennial) attending to support my family.

And months later, it would be the last public sermon I would give in 2014 doing pulpit supply. I stood in the pulpit I had celebrated my Mum’s life, next to the altar that had bore her ashes. Knowing she would never be able to hear me again. Sit in the pew with that smile.

Do I miss preaching?

Yes. I have had opportunities to speak, but no pulpits have called since…perhaps one day one will again.

“One day a church will be brave enough to call you. When that happens, I will join and be there every Sunday to support you and your family.”

My Mum, on the many trials of churches I had traveled through

Playlist:

Paul Brandt’s Jesus Loves Me

Brad Paisley’s Me and Jesus

Paul Brandt’s Amazing Grace

End Notes:

  • I want to acknowledge and honour her family (blood and chosen (close friends)) that continued the journey with her, my Dad who was the hardest working, and loving husband and Dad during this time.
  • My Mum gave me an old King James Bible when I returned to church at 19 years old and began teaching Sunday School. She also bought me the bible I took with me and wore out in my years at Bible College. Growing up each summer until we aged out, she would register me for the Vacation Bible School at Centennial Presbyterian Church, she would always encourage a simple belief in God is love, and to do good things.
  • I did attempt to file complaints and advocate for better mental health care in rural Alberta at the time, but AHS and the Health Ministry under our previous government would not respond.
  • There was nothing nefarious on the timing of my last pulpit supply, I have been booked for speaking, teaching, and life celebrations since, but no pulpits have opened.
  • Mum memorial 

When most of your day is spent slept away or zoned out, knowing when to go out for air can be a bit of a challenge. My chat with Sister Anne was of benefit, but sometimes you just need to face the darkness of the past from where it finally comes to rest. In this case, that is a late-night stroll with the moon full amongst the tombstones.  The fog gives it an eerie old Sherlock Holmes movie feel, with the chill of an early winter coming which for our city means anytime before January.

Ahh Ricky what were you hoping to come here? That a vampire would pop up and you’d be able to see how much mystic magic was left in your broken ass old hero body.  Scratch the greying beard, there was a time on an investigative track that some akin me to Sisko of DS9. Y’know the badass that punched Q, for the Harumphs, he would always be Hawk from Spenser for Hire.

My hands run across her name. Shelley Kobwash. Susan’s little sister. One of the one’s that could not be saved. The one that chose drugs over her child after high school and aborted. But could not get out of the darkness regardless. Death surrounds death. She fell into the world of Susan’s father, but not in the way the old man would have approved. For she was not the queen of crime as he has been the Kind pulling strings on the distribution of debauchery for years behind the scenes. Remember it was when my brother James was in one of his side of light phases, it was his child, drove him back into the darkness for years after that repercussion.

“Why are you here Richard?” The voice. It echoes in my dreams. Those times when things would make no sense. It is the voice that used my brother as a right hand for many years in his Ionic Knight guise. The voice of the man that should’ve been at my wedding to walk my bride down the aisle, but as Susan so eloquently put it to her mother, she would have to kill her first before the bloated bastard was allowed in the church.

“Darcey, really, Richard? After all these years surely you could call me Rick.” It is one of the things that confounds me to this day. How this man had compartmentalized his life so much, for my brother had shared my identity with him. Yet…he could not bear to break his child’s heart so he never released it.

Although his emotional-mental-spiritual abuse is still something Susan is battling through not just from the narcissistic-sociopath father, but from her borderline personality mother. I am the orphan and the ones that still cause harm keep breathing air.

“Rick, after all these years, why are you here?”

James’ gave his life in a heroic venture in the end. Much to this pompous ass’ chagrin. For that heroic venture cost, him billions in ill gotten gains.

Yet even then he kept my secret.

“Same reason you are here. Shelley’s death haunts.”

“Susan had mentioned to her Mom all your years in investigative journalism had given you a rough neuro-mental go as of late.” His voice drips with sarcasm. He knows that the real cause is, but like I said, compartmentalization.

“Ever wonder if you didn’t bring the shit into this city if she would still be alive.” Or my brother your sick bastard, could be an uncle and Susie could be an aunty. If only compartmentalization always worked. No answer. Oh right. Just before James’ sacrificed himself was when he saw the file.

The one that showed the shit that killed his beloved.

That claimed his soul mate.

Drove him into the darkness deeper.

Caused him to lose his chance at fatherhood.

Showed the shipment and the dealer.

The name of the dealer was Shelley’s pimp.

The pimp paid protection to…

Darcey Kobwash.

The sword Chivalry slayed a dragon and a falling knight saved a universe.

“that’s right Darcey ya bastard. James’ one. You died.”

I wipe condensation and mud away on the grave marker next to Shelley’s.

Another demon puts to rest.

At least until the next seizure shakes my mind palace to pieces.

“Please forgive me Susan.” For the pain, I have brought into your life by answering a call.

My phone vibrates.

I flip it open to a message from Shotgun.

Need to talk kid.

I click delete and continue my graveyard shift.


Ah parables. How best to reach an oral culture only kind of coming into written records. And those written records are tied more to the authorities, the wealthy than the collected masses, or as Marx would dub us the proletariat. The working classes. These are the classes that Jesus of Nazareth, Brother Jesus would emerge from. AN unwed mother married to a carpenter/labourer to literally save her from an unkindly street death. But he was one that got it, connected deeply to the source of all that is. Showing the way that we all could be connected into the source of Love.

It is the parable that touched into the deeper levels of the person, and allowed for the early followers of the Cosmic Christ in the flesh so diverse. Just think of it—outcasts, those with health issues, mental health concerns; sex trade workers, labourers, wealthy religious (in secret), Roman soldiers/officers and Zealots to name but a few. It was this type of parable that the social gospel movement in Canada tied into to get folks active for political and societal change. For example the story of Mouseland, with one of the most famous being Tommy Douglas, but also among the ranks Bible Bill Aberhart, Preston Manning, Joe Clark, Pierre Trudeau, J.S. Woodsworth, Agnes MacPhail (her image now gracing the $10 Canadian note), Paul Martin Jr., Rev. Bill Phipps, Elizabeth May, my own parents and grandparents,  to name but a few. But truly it is those driven by a deep conviction that we are created good, and as such we are to live out this ideal of justice, peace, faith, hope and love as laid out by Brother Jesus. So, I am sure there are many examples within your own world and life if you take but a moment to pause and ponder.

For it is in the parables that Brother Jesus lays out a path of self-discovery. A path that shows where we and our neighbours can be existing, but also at different phases in our lives where we have existed. For with planting soil changes over time, that which was not able to grow previous with the right tending and additions can become quite fertile.  This is the thrust found within the parable of the sower.

It is in most gospel texts that one would class as canonical, so if you wish to use this reflection with those texts, they can be found in the synoptic gospels in: Matthew 13:1-23, Mark 4:1-20, and Luke 8:1-15. Though we will continue to use Levi’s Aquarian gospel from the early 1900’s as the newer wording may touch a different chord. In that text it is found in chapter 115, which you may read here for full context

As always, I invite you to get comfortable where you are sitting. It is a meditative lectio divina as you hear the parable three times, with different focus questions to see where the soil of your heart is at, and where it is being renewed.  Before you begin, write on a scrap of paper that which you need to leave in the hear and now that can distract you. Once written crumple up and throw into the recycle. Those distractions, busyness, weights of the heart can come back after, but here, now your full presence is asked for.

Take time to slow your breathing, deep breaths in of cosmic love, the dust that formed your very essence as good. Breathe out the chakra sludge that separates you from that goodness.

Feel the 21st century technological buzzing fade away. Feel the chair you are sitting on disappear, along with the walls of where you are. The time. Travel back. Feel the dust and fresh breeze untouched by the Industrial Revolution. Smell the sea air.  The smell of the crowds, intermingling. You are on the outskirts of the crowd. People had spoken about this teacher, this Jesus of Nazareth. Some called him a bastard child and/or insane. Others said he was a master teacher, one with a new way to truly transform things.

As you hear the story the first time, think of when your heart was like the rocky soil where messages/actions of love were easily carried away by others, like the birds. Sit with one memory, what has or has not changed in your life since then?

The first hearing:

  1. And Jesus stood beside the sea and taught; the multitudes pressed close upon him and he went into a boat that was near by and put a little ways from shore, and then he spoke in parables; he said,
    Behold, a sower took his seed and went into his field to sow.
    3. With lavish hand he scattered forth the seed and some fell in the hardened paths that men had made,
    4. And soon were crushed beneath the feet of other men; and birds came down and carried all the seeds away.
    5. Some seed fell on rocky ground where there was little soil; they grew and soon the blades appeared and promised much;
    6. But then there was no depth of soil, no chance for nourishment, and in the heat of noonday sun they withered up and died.
    7. Some seed fell where thistles grew, and found no earth in which to grow and they were lost;
    8. But other seed found lodgement in the rich and tender soil and grew apace, and in the harvest it was found that some brought forth a hundred fold, some sixty fold, some thirty fold.
    9. They who have ears to hear may hear; they who hearts to understand may know.
    10. Now, his disciples were beside him in the boat, and Thomas asked, Why do you speak in parables?
    11. And Jesus said, My words, like every master’s words, are dual in their sense.
    12. To you who know the language of the soul, my words have meanings far too deep for other men to comprehend.
    13. The other sense of what I say is all the multitude can understand; these words are food for them; the inner thoughts are food for you.
    14. Let every one reach forth and take the food that he is ready to receive.
    15. And then he spoke that all might hear; he said, Hear you the meaning of the parable:
    16. Men hear my words and understand them not, and then the carnal self purloins the seed, and not a sign of spirit life appears.
    17. This is the seed that fell within the beaten paths of men.
    18. And others hear the words of life, and with a fiery zeal receive them all; they seem to comprehend the truth and promise well;
    19. But troubles come; discouragements arise; there is no depth of thought; their good intentions wither up and die.
    20. These are the seeds that fell in stony ground.
    21. And others hear the words of truth and seem to know their worth; but love of pleasure, reputation, wealth and fame fill all the soil; the seeds are nourished not and they are lost.
    22. These are the seeds that fell among the thistles and the thorns.
    23. But others hear the words of truth and comprehend them well; they sink down deep into their souls; they live the holy life and all the world is blest.
    24. These are the seeds that fell in fertile soil, that brought forth fruit abundantly.
    25. You men of Galilee, take heed to how you hear and how you cultivate your fields; for if you slight the offers of this day, the sower may not come to you again in this or in the age to come.

-Aquarian Gospel 115: 1-25

As you prepare for the second hearing. Think of the next step of life in self-discovery, within that inner battle of transfiguration. When have you been like the seed battling in the soil with the weeds to emerge and not taking hold? Let these memories move from your mind to your heart. Spend time with the root cause of rooting in the weeds instead of the seed of love? Are you ready to breathe out this sludge?

The second hearing:

  1. And Jesus stood beside the sea and taught; the multitudes pressed close upon him and he went into a boat that was near by and put a little ways from shore, and then he spoke in parables; he said,
    Behold, a sower took his seed and went into his field to sow.
    3. With lavish hand he scattered forth the seed and some fell in the hardened paths that men had made,
    4. And soon were crushed beneath the feet of other men; and birds came down and carried all the seeds away.
    5. Some seed fell on rocky ground where there was little soil; they grew and soon the blades appeared and promised much;
    6. But then there was no depth of soil, no chance for nourishment, and in the heat of noonday sun they withered up and died.
    7. Some seed fell where thistles grew, and found no earth in which to grow and they were lost;
    8. But other seed found lodgement in the rich and tender soil and grew apace, and in the harvest it was found that some brought forth a hundred fold, some sixty fold, some thirty fold.
    9. They who have ears to hear may hear; they who hearts to understand may know.
    10. Now, his disciples were beside him in the boat, and Thomas asked, Why do you speak in parables?
    11. And Jesus said, My words, like every master’s words, are dual in their sense.
    12. To you who know the language of the soul, my words have meanings far too deep for other men to comprehend.
    13. The other sense of what I say is all the multitude can understand; these words are food for them; the inner thoughts are food for you.
    14. Let every one reach forth and take the food that he is ready to receive.
    15. And then he spoke that all might hear; he said, Hear you the meaning of the parable:
    16. Men hear my words and understand them not, and then the carnal self purloins the seed, and not a sign of spirit life appears.
    17. This is the seed that fell within the beaten paths of men.
    18. And others hear the words of life, and with a fiery zeal receive them all; they seem to comprehend the truth and promise well;
    19. But troubles come; discouragements arise; there is no depth of thought; their good intentions wither up and die.
    20. These are the seeds that fell in stony ground.
    21. And others hear the words of truth and seem to know their worth; but love of pleasure, reputation, wealth and fame fill all the soil; the seeds are nourished not and they are lost.
    22. These are the seeds that fell among the thistles and the thorns.
    23. But others hear the words of truth and comprehend them well; they sink down deep into their souls; they live the holy life and all the world is blest.
    24. These are the seeds that fell in fertile soil, that brought forth fruit abundantly.
    25. You men of Galilee, take heed to how you hear and how you cultivate your fields; for if you slight the offers of this day, the sower may not come to you again in this or in the age to come.

-Aquarian Gospel 115: 1-25

Prepare yourself for the last hearing. When soil is fertile for the seed to take hold. Is there a time of remembrance in your life, your very soul energy that you can remember this? Even in the journeys that go to and fro where we exist mostly in rocks and weeds, there are glimmers of this or long lived life in the nourished soil. Take hold of the memories. Spend time going deeper into them to the core spark/stardust that is the ember of the Cosmic Christ within.

The Third Hearing:

  1. And Jesus stood beside the sea and taught; the multitudes pressed close upon him and he went into a boat that was near by and put a little ways from shore, and then he spoke in parables; he said,
    Behold, a sower took his seed and went into his field to sow.
    3. With lavish hand he scattered forth the seed and some fell in the hardened paths that men had made,
    4. And soon were crushed beneath the feet of other men; and birds came down and carried all the seeds away.
    5. Some seed fell on rocky ground where there was little soil; they grew and soon the blades appeared and promised much;
    6. But then there was no depth of soil, no chance for nourishment, and in the heat of noonday sun they withered up and died.
    7. Some seed fell where thistles grew, and found no earth in which to grow and they were lost;
    8. But other seed found lodgement in the rich and tender soil and grew apace, and in the harvest it was found that some brought forth a hundred fold, some sixty fold, some thirty fold.
    9. They who have ears to hear may hear; they who hearts to understand may know.
    10. Now, his disciples were beside him in the boat, and Thomas asked, Why do you speak in parables?
    11. And Jesus said, My words, like every master’s words, are dual in their sense.
    12. To you who know the language of the soul, my words have meanings far too deep for other men to comprehend.
    13. The other sense of what I say is all the multitude can understand; these words are food for them; the inner thoughts are food for you.
    14. Let every one reach forth and take the food that he is ready to receive.
    15. And then he spoke that all might hear; he said, Hear you the meaning of the parable:
    16. Men hear my words and understand them not, and then the carnal self purloins the seed, and not a sign of spirit life appears.
    17. This is the seed that fell within the beaten paths of men.
    18. And others hear the words of life, and with a fiery zeal receive them all; they seem to comprehend the truth and promise well;
    19. But troubles come; discouragements arise; there is no depth of thought; their good intentions wither up and die.
    20. These are the seeds that fell in stony ground.
    21. And others hear the words of truth and seem to know their worth; but love of pleasure, reputation, wealth and fame fill all the soil; the seeds are nourished not and they are lost.
    22. These are the seeds that fell among the thistles and the thorns.
    23. But others hear the words of truth and comprehend them well; they sink down deep into their souls; they live the holy life and all the world is blest.
    24. These are the seeds that fell in fertile soil, that brought forth fruit abundantly.
    25. You men of Galilee, take heed to how you hear and how you cultivate your fields; for if you slight the offers of this day, the sower may not come to you again in this or in the age to come.

-Aquarian Gospel 115: 1-25

 

Are you willing to take hold of that ember and fan it?

Are you able to live from that spark into and out of the divine?

When you are ready with that spark. Visualizing it moving through each of the seven chakras to firmly root in the opening/awakening crown chakra. Breath in deeply the love of all, breathe out the love of all. Feel the fresh air fade away. The breeze on your face stop. The noise of the crowds. You are the fertile soil the Master Sower has found.

Hold to this truth.

As you move forward through time.

As your room reforms around you.

Your chair.

Your breath slowly returns to normal.

Your eyes re-open.

Your very essence awakens.

Are you willing to truly live as the Master Sower has sowed you?

What are you going to do today to step into your destiny of love?


  1. How can you see the splinter in your brother’s eye while you have chunks within your own?
    21.First take the chunks from out your eye and then you may behold the splinter in your brother’s eye and help him take it out,
    22. And while your eyes are full of foreign things you cannot see the way, for you are blind,
    23. And when the blind lead forth the blind, both lose the way and fall into the slough.
    24. If you would lead the way to God you must be clear in sight, as well as pure in heart.

-Aquarian Gospel of Jesus the Christ 100: 20-24

Zed attempted to kill me instead of allowing the journey to free my friend to unfold. The question that needed to be asked is freed from what? Something was blocking me. In some religions, they call it sin. In other forms of spiritualism, it is the ego or the shadow that derails you out of the flow of creation. Is this what the Thor entity represented to my friend?

Ancient Rabbi Jesus of Nazareth taught about the log in your own eye while you picked at another friend’s sin.  The challenge on not being able to see yourself or what is going wrong because there is always someone else you can say “at least I am no them” or “at least its not that.” Completely missing the point that those chunks floating around within your own eye are clouding your soul. Is this the journey, better yet the grail quest I am on now? To be able to remove the chunks from my own eye? Release my ego and re-enter the flow properly? Is that where this journey is leading.

Susan is lightly snoring on the sofa when I re-enter the house, Pen is still on my shoulder purring…yes, I realize it is weird to think that a dragon would purr, but the gaffer is species fluid. I pull up the afghan on to her. She mumbles slightly and turns her head into my bruised knuckles. After all these years, you would think I would learn how to throw a punch that wouldn’t hurt so much? Check that I am used to throwing punches in mystical armour, but Zed had shown something is going down, and I need to figure out how to bridge the gap.

It is almost impulsive to rub my own eyes as I slump on the floor by her head. The light in the hall way lights the way to the girls’ room. My two empaths that can give you a clear read on any person in the world and their intention. It is one of the blessings that come with there being differently abled.

Susan stirs. “Rick did you…”

“Zed attempted to kill me.”

I let that statement hang in the air. Not exactly something she was expecting to hear, but not shocking enough to fully awake my dozing wife. Though I guess she has come to the same conclusion that I did, this immortal wants to seek revenge against the antagonist entity, or is there something else? Since the ashram beat down that teaching of Brother Jesus has been bouncing around in my brain the chunks I am looking through to hyper focus on the speck.  What is the speck?

“The speck is John’s ghost.” Susan mumbles before turning back over to sleep.

The speck is John’s ghost.

What are the chunks in my own eyes?

Time to go back to the grave, the fist chunk is my own grief.

Pen slips quietly into my coat pocket as I once again leave the house locking the door behind me. Towards the cemetery to clear the chunks from my own eyes to clearly see. See what?

Grail quest. For some it was the cup of Christ, that which he drank from at the Last Supper, that which Judas and Peter, the yin-yang of the Holy Week happenings shared communion with the Lord. Sought by the supposed source I am resurrected from when I speak my mantra, Arthur PenDragon who searched many years for the Grail. Yet more recently some have supposed that the Grail was the Sacred Feminine, or even the ancient line of Christ himself as carried through his bride in gnostic teachings of Mary Magdalene, who it is believed by legend fled to France post resurrection.

But where does this lead me? Except into a foggy old cemetery at night. Standing before the grave marker of my friend. John MacCurtis. Needing to dive back into the divine flow to truly see where he is resting. To release his soul into resurrection or release? What choice will he make? Pen stirs again as I kneel on the damp ground.

The cross of life, or as some would know it as an Ankh on the ground digging into the ground of the grave. The Latin comes through my connection to Pen.   The chunks have fallen away as the incantation concludes and lightning flashes in my eyes.

Golden lightning.

Time to re-enter Camelot a place I thought long destroyed but that is the revelation for the grail is beyond the veil and the cross of life reveals the face of my friend.

One last time into the breach.

“Bionics on.”

Lightning crashes the ground.

Across the city, a woman with blue flame streaked hair sits upright fully awake on a couch. “Come home to me Rick or by God I will kill you.” A lone tear trickles down her face for fear this may be the one time she won’t be the grail he seeks to come home through.

To Be Continued…

 

Ode to Betsy

Posted: October 15, 2016 by Ty in Musings, New Thought, Spirituality
Tags: , ,

A blessing granted in a time of need

Opening up a world of accessibility for the lad

Yet it became a transport to a world of adventure

Many memories made on the roads of Alberta

Seeing Dinosaurs, canola and Vulcans Oh My!

Like a time warp to yester year journeys to Countess

Removing any barriers for the Lad to be a Lad

The Lass to explore and share love of animals

Old Family found,

Renewed Family

Finally the brakes

Not wanting to do what brakes need to do

A Mother’s blessing

Needing to head off to vehicle Valhalla

Loaded on a truck

Chained and strapped,

Driven off into the sunset

Like a gunslinger community builder of yore

O’ Betsy you will be missed,

But a new world awaits

In what the lass has dubbed as “James”

#Newadventuresawait


It is true, to find a place where you can truly be the true you, takes time, and effort. Sometimes one falls effortlessly into a spot, other times the journey builds up a lot of open wounds, bruises and scar tissue to truly find respite and belonging.

My journey has been an in between, sadly some placed we thought availed of spiritual belonging attacked the youngest of us (still a certain Lutheran Church sadly my son cannot go by the parking lot of without having a meltdown) or a certain non-denom cult that the humour of being kicked out for a bible study invite still stays with the wifey…yet there is a spiritual home for everyone….it is just about finding the right hole to fit your peg, the right puzzle piece that connects…

And yes even with diverse family units such as ours there is a puzzle that can fit all our pieces. Currently I feel we are in such a place. One where the kids can grow, we can grow, and it is not necessarily because of what happens with each Sunday, or even all the courses/workshops offered at the Calgary Centre for Spiritual Living, although they help the curious learners within…

Nope, it is the type of puzzle that allows your mosaic to thrive, so not just fitting into an ideology or dogma, but a place where you can think and grow as you are meant to within the Spirit and the Spirit within. A place that allows for questions, diversity and evolution of the self and the whole. A holistic communion if you will.

For our family, it is that place to belong, for we can still be curious, we can still journey outside of the metaphoric four walls of the Centre and sample other things, grow in other ways (Nods to you Unity of Calgary and UCM Alberta)…and know that no judgment is held when we come home with new ideas to banter about.

It is through authentic belonging, that then authentic purpose can be realized for all within the family and community for there is no falsity in fitting in, or trying to be something or one you are not. Regardless of life lived, or being lived, or who you love, or what path you are one, or ability/differently abled there is always a way to realize where Spirit calls and a community to walk with in realizing that call.

Just thoughts that percolate in the work I do in aiding others in building home and coming to peace in my own self as I truly am at a place of Thy own self be true if you will.