ashamed

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Thank you, photographer of this online photo.

The ancient Wise One said, “Those who are ashamed of me and my words, of them I will be ashamed….”

 

It is still true.

If you are ashamed to be a friend of someone who has shown you only kindness and generosity,

it is a putrid shame.

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Lonely women: A totally fictional post about a totally fictional love.

lonely woman pixabay
Online image — Pixabay

For almost 4 years I tried to win your heart, invisible man. It has been a rough euphoria. Many times I have been shot through by doubt, attacked by ageism, sexism and hatred of foreigners. But I soldiered on, believing that love conquers all.

 

Are you a man who wants me but does not want me? Is there any other kind of man, my shadow love?

I wonder why I am drawn to shadow lovers. Perhaps there is a part of my heart that believes I do not deserve to be adored by someone who is actually here. There is also part of me that believes I am a siren. What in me are you attracted to?

I understand that you have seen my full humanity, and it has angered and frightened you. You have angered and frightened me. I have felt the same things you have felt.

At times my feelings have been totally disregarded, but my love has been strong. (Or maybe just stupid.) Sometimes a woman needs reassurance of faithfulness. (I believe, however, there is no such thing. It should not be an issue for me. How I wish I was free of caring too much.) I truly wish to believe in faithfulness and at the same time to detach.

I am foolish-renegade-wild brave, but I am not stupid. This can be exhausting. On the other hand, I am watching your bondage to obsolete and cruel traditions destroy you. Or me. Destroy us, for sure.

I realize now, dear shadow, that I cannot take on an entire nation. I can no longer win millennia of hollow hearts with wise words, charm, ambassadorship or arguing. There is no jump-starting hearts that have been dead for five thousand years.

And so, in despair, I back off. I give up.

And forever long to hear the vibration of the damn I phone.

 

(This fictional post regards lonely women who are victimized by online predators.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

LOVE IN THE OLD AND NEW YEAR

bewitched (2)

This past year was filled with shock.

I found my dear one whom I lost whom I found again.

I lost my heart to a though tender prison

Held by my own will and longing.

I heard “I am forever with you in your heart.”

“I am with you,” from the opposite side of the world.

In the old year I was the universal spiritual soul.

In the new year, don’t talk to me about spiritual love.

Give me your love god body –

Your blood, bone, sweat and moans body.

 

 

SILENCE

silent jean

Luke 2:19 ~ But Mary (the mother of Jesus) treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart.

Ecclesiastes 3:7b ~ …. a time to keep silence and a time to speak ….

I talk too much. I am one to process my thoughts aloud. This Advent season, I am suddenly aware of how much unnecessary junk I say.

Jean, be quiet.

Irony

rejected me
Myself, age 16

I have experienced rejection in my life (haven’t we all?).

When I was young, it was because I was too holy, too elitist and too serious (don’t many of us try to please our teachers at an early age?).

Now any rejection I experience is because I am too liberal, too free and too tolerant.

I have the comfort of knowing they are rejecting the authentic me.

better me
Me now

 

 

To PETER EGGEN

peter

You left us so suddenly last week.

I was your mother’s pastor several years ago. She was 100 years old. You were so attentive to her and always called her Mommy.

One distressed day, I asked you to bless me. Your eyes widened. Then you simply touched my forehead with your forehead.

I did not realize until now, what a Muse you were for me when I play keyboard for worship at church and for the choir. Your tenor voice was our gift.

I wish I had told you sooner.

 

The Secret . . .

temple in cave in Thailand
Temple in a Cave in Thailand ~ internet photo. Thank you, anonymous photographer.

 

So, what is the secret to life?

I have dwelled in the moment, counted my blessings, trusted, surrendered, waited, viewed everything as nothing, become Nothing, thought, refrained from thought in meditation, done, been, believed, confessed and repented.

Now — I am what I am.

I give up.

Not really.

The heart wants what the heart wants.

Period.

At Age 69

The mad woman in the attic 

who has been held captive all these years

has busted down the door,

is stomping down the stairs,

and screaming,

I WON’T BE PRISONER TO ANYONE

EVER AGAIN!

 

~ Idea from Erica Jong
~ Photos my own
~ Angry Indian Goddess online art. Thank you unknown artist.