My English class, that I am teaching at Northern Virginia Community College. I debated with myself back  (around the end of last year)  whether I should focus on teaching at NOVA or focus on doing the work that I did before (legal compliance in the area of Equal Employment Opportunity/Diversity.) I left EEO work in 2005, because I was burnt out. The job was very stressful. I had an opportunity to go back into EEO, but I turned it down. Even though the job seemed like a good fit, for me and my skillset- something about the experience didn't feel quite right.  For some reason I felt like I was suppossed to be at NOVA this semester; and that hasn't been a decision I've regreted!

My students are great! I'm trying out this curriculum of self-discovery and they seem to really like it. So I'm glad that I am at NOVA, right now. It feels right! I feel like all of the students who are in my class are there for a reason. They are learning from me, from each other, from themselves- and I am learning from them; and that is always an exciting experience (at least to me) to learn something new.

Two (really big)  physical fights with my sister! Oh it was awful! The first time, I was about thirty- years old. I cried because I was so ashamed of myself for behaving that way. It right after my grandfather's funeral.  The second time...well that's a real long story. Let's just say, because of our incredibly dysfuctional upbringing me and my sister have had  so many up and downs in our life and in trying to relate to each other. But finally, it's all good now. We're cool!  All that's behind us for good! We are helping each other to get over it!

I grew up in super-duper Christian families - Baptist on one side, Episcopalian on the other.  I learned the basic Christian story: man is evil, bad, wrong, needs to be punished.  Jesus, God's only son, came to save us. He died for our sins.  It was a bloody awful mess, the crucifixion.  But it was all good because Jesus didn't really die because He is in fact God. (Huh?  What? I never could quite understand this! How are you going to be the son of God and God?) He died for our sins, and so even though we were bad, because of Jesus we are good! Unless we're not, because we don't accept Jesus Christ as our savior, or we do something like break one of the ten commandments (which is fairly easy to do, cause we all lie, steal, cheat, get angry with our parents from time to time).  But break one of those commandments, then you'll  burn  in hell for forever and ever and ever, in a lake of fire and Satan will taunt you. (Oh Satan is an angel that got pissed at God one day. Now he and God have decided to mess with man, like little pawns in a game of good and evil.)   Basically it was all very, very confusing and illogical to me.  Who can make any sense of this story?????????

 I tried.  I'd ask questions like, "Okay, if God is all loving, and all forgiving- then why is there a hell at all?" And "What about the people who live in countries where no one told them about Jesus- are they going to hell?" and "If God is all powerful, why doesn't he just get rid of Satan?" "If Satan was once good, can he turn back good?"  "Once you get into hell, can you get out?" I was very scared of this hell, because I was told from a very young age that was where I was going, mainly because my parents explored other religions. (And I didn't even have a choice in the matter???? Was it my fault my mom wanted to meditate and chant in Sanskrit- and I had no understanding of that religion (Hinduism) either- only that what my mom was doing worked for her.)

 Religion as a child was traumatic for me, rife with conflict and confusion, fear, manipulation. As a result, I abandoned it completely. Which is unfortunate because their was a lot that was good about being a Christian too. But for me, the negatives did not make up for the positives. Here is what I have learned about most organized religions, most are based on fear, most are about people in power maintaining some kind of power (and you know what they say about power, power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely!) Religious leaders all too often get off on controlling and manipulating people through fear. This always, always, always leads to disaster! (Wars, stake burnings, crucifixions, chopped off heads- it never results in anything nice.)   I consider myself to be a Christian, but no one outside of myself tells me how to do that, and almost all of the traditional Christian establishments have a major problem with that. I don't really care. I do think that the basic gist of the Jesus story is an incredibly beautiful story. But I think power hungry, control freaks have distorted that real story sooooooo much, most people don't begin to even recognize it.  Jesus walked on water- and he told everyone he met they could do this too. Jesus fed 5000 people with five fish and two loaves of bread and he told everyone that they too could do this! Jesus healed everyone who came into contact with him and HE TOLD EVRYONE THAT THEY COULD DO THIS. Love God, Love your brother, and love yourself. That's all Jesus wanted anyone to do.  How come we never hear too much about this from the Christian establishment?

Well, This is fairly easy for me to answer. I would create a retreat center dedicated to people finding their way through. And what I mean by that is a retreat center dedicated to learning how to cut through all life's distractions to find out what your real true purpose is in life. It's so easy to get sidetracked on so many crazy tangents in life, and lose sight of what's real and true and meaningful. And once you're lost it's really HARD getting back on track. (I should know, I've had that experience.) But once you are back on track, you are so grateful and finding your way back is such a wonderful experience it was almost worth being lost!

Bad habits...no doubt about it. For the past four years I have been trying to eliminate negative thinking from my thought process entirely. It has been really difficult. As well as learning how to meditate, to clear my mind of all thoughts, empty it of the negatives and then allowing the positives to flow in. BUT if you are dedicated and committed to the goal you have set, you can change anything. I have in fact changed a number of bad habits into positive ones and so I know if I keep trying eventually I will master this whole, power of positive thinking thing! I'm very hopeful about it!

Amber

 

Tidings of comfort and joy, comfort and joy

Oh tidings of comfort and joy...

"God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen" is a really old British Christmas carol, first published in 1833, but it actually dates back to the 1500s. Yet it's still considered a classic even in the new millennium. I think it's because of the chorus...tidings of comfort and joy. It sounds very reassuring. I mean if you are gong to have a bunch of people singing outside of your house, wouldn't you want to hear something to the effect of, we have news of comfort and joy, so don't worry, be happy? That's a very inspiring message that definitely captures what Christmas is all about. 

"God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen" is actually is very typical Christian Christmas carol. If you listen to all of the lyrics, (which to be perfectly honest, I never really did) you'd know that it's the same basic Jesus birth story that's in a lot of Christmas songs. Christ was born, he was a baby born of humble beginnings in a manger, but he's going to save the world, be happy...and that's where the tidings of comfort and joy come in. What the carolers were basically saying was this is the good news we are bringing to you, so be comforted by it, be joyful.

When I think of tidings of comfort and joy, I think of people sitting around a fire, eating turkey and pie, and singing and dancing, and being merry. "God Rest ye Merry, gentlemen" seems to be quite a happy and upbeat tune, but for me, whenever I hear it, it makes me feel so sad, so overwhelmed and uneasy. Why? Soul cakes. I can't think if "God rest ye Merry gentlemen" without thinking of soul cakes.

"A soul, soul, soul, cake, please good missus, a soul cake. An apple, a pear, a plum, a cherry, and old thing to make us all merry, one for peter, two  for Paul,  three for him who made us all."

What are soul cakes exactly? Well they are these little cakes that were given away during autumn pagan celebrations, and then eventually got connected to Halloween (the origins of trick-or- treating) and then finally in England to Christmas and caroling. They were called soul cakes because they were made for wandering and lost souls. They were left out for the lost souls, but were typically eaten by beggars. Eventually it got to the point were the beggars (typically children beggars) would go from house to house begging for the soul cakes, and thus the soul cake plea above became a Christmas carol. From autumn, well up until Christmas, children beggars would take to the streets of England, begging for these soul cakes.

I had a middle school music teacher, who decided one year, for our big Christmas production, that we would mix these two carols "God rest ye merry, Gentlemen" and the Soul Cake plea, singing them in rounds. Because I was an alto, I had the soul cake chorus. While my soprano classmates were singing happily about comfort and joy, I was begging for soul cakes. It occurred to me that Christmas is like that. One the one hand, you do have all of these well wishers and glad tidings, and hall deckings and celebration but at the same time there are still children begging for soul cakes in the streets (or at least our modern day version, angel tees and such.)  There is still so much poverty, upset, dysfunction and misfortune in the world...and for whatever reason, at Christmas time, more than any other time, there is the attempt to address it. The dichotomy of the Christmas situation has always perplexed me. Why is it that some of us live in nice homes, with big families and warm holiday celebrations, while others are begging on the street? What kind of world is it where these conditions exist in such stark contrast to one another; and isn't the contrast even that much more intense at Christmas time?  I believe this is why Christmas drives some people crazy. The intensity of the season can be a bit much to process. Inside of my Christmas reflections, I will ponder tidings of comfort and joy as well as the need for soul cakes; and finally the mystery of the human experience and condition.

Christmas drives some people crazy.  I should know. My father who was absolutely certifiably insane had a thing for Christmas, the music, the lights, the pressure, the darkness...and off the deep end he went, every Christmas.

This has left me with a legacy of ambivalence. While I recognize that Christmas is this major Christian holiday (and I do consider myself to be a Christian in a spiritual, hippy-dippy, do-what-you-like, no-I-don't-go-to-church kinda way) I'm not going to lose my mind in celebration. It's just a day for me...no hype...no massive expectations...no "everything has to be perfect." It's just a day of quiet reflection, typically of something like peace on earth, good will toward man  (and women and children...matter of fact all living things.)  What would that look like?I think about this at Christmas time.

What is it about Christmas that drives people so crazy? First of all the darkness is a little unsettling. It is 5:22 pm Eastern time and it's dark outside in Virginia where I live. Christmas is actually an adoption of some pagan holiday , I beleive it was called Winter Solstice which is a celebration of the equinox- and the fact that around December 21, 22, 23, just about that time, the switch cosmically gets flipped and the sun starts hanging around longer. Thank GOD!  (I could never do Alaska and the six months of darkness, by the time we get to December I am fiending sunlight.) But the whole point of Christmas and Winter Solstice is to raise our spirits during this time of darkness. Does it work? You know it might...if it wasn't for crazy capitalism.

Now, don't get me wrong. I don't think capitalism is bad and I think that with conscious capitalism, as discussed here at zaadz, we are definitely onto something cool, something definitely more evolved than the typical endless wanting out of fear, and lack and scarcity, something outside of ourselves to make us whole, which is crazy! But this is what most Americans have been taught, almost unconsciously. (It took someone from another country to break down my capitalist mindset to me. Prior to that, I wasn't even aware that I owned such a mindset. But after a few conversations with this friend my eyes had been opened. )

One crazy thing that I have noticed about Christmas is that in America, so much of it is about buying the "perfect gift" for everyone in your life that you love, like, or are even vaguely acquainted with. This can be quite stressful, not to mention expensive and time- consuming (diabolical was my father's word for it). Diabolical, is a bit much perhaps. Gift giving can be great...as long as it is kept in perspective. First of all there are no "perfect gifts." Or, if they are, they are all perfect. Anytime someone thinks enough of you to spend time, energy and/or money selecting something for you, out of love, a spirit of giving, whatever...that's perfect.

Expensive gifts are nice and fun (and let's just be honest everyone loves getting them) But they are not anymore or less "perfect" than any other gift. Yeah I'm saying it...the mercedes coupe from your wealthy favorite uncle is just as perfect as the macaroni necklace from your five year old kid! Whatever it is, it's just a thing. It's shiny newness will wear off in one to three months, and most likely if you are like most people your fascination with it will cease then. Most importantly this thing is not love. And this is where I think a lot of people get it twisted and go a little crazy. People try so hard to impress their loved ones with "perfect" gifts, and they get so dissapointed when their loved ones do not buy them the "perfect" gift, that they somehow, someway get disassociated from the love that of course is always there, regardless of any gift that is given.

And love is where the focus should be at Christmas time. Peace on earth, goodwill toward man, (and women and children and all living things.)  What does that look like? That's what I am going to be reflecting upon this Christmas!

“I mean, on a day like today, were you happy?” Key Key asked me this. Key was…well it’s complicated. The easiest way to explain him would be to say he was my boyfriend from high school…but that doesn’t really do it. Key was a change agent in my life. He came into my life at a time when I really, really, really needed to catch a break…and I caught it! He gave it to me; and he pushed me onto an entirely different life path. One filled with a lot more love…and that is this whole other story that I can’t get into right now, because this story about is about happiness. Anyway, Key asked me if I was happy; and it was the first time anyone had ever asked me anything like this! I was floored. Initially what he had asked me was “Are you happy?” And I was just really annoyed by it, because at that time in my life the answer was a loud and resounding no! Not only was it a no, it was more like a, “Hell no, I am not happy! I don’t even know what happy is or what it looks like, never mind what it feels like! So I sort of snapped at him, “Why are you asking me this! What is happy? Are YOU happy?” So then he clarified the question. “I mean on a day like today, were you happy?” The communication between us was awkward because incidentally he was dead. Key was murdered in August of 1996, and this particular conversation took place in September of that year. Again, that is this whole other story, that I really don’t have the time to tell here. The point is, he was dead, and this question…well it must have been a really important question since he had to cut through all that time and space (or at least the illusion of it) that separates the living from the dead, just to ask me. Anyway, fast-forward many, many years, to Thanksgiving 2007. I was at my mom’s house when my husband Brian took a picture of me as I was stuffing the turkey. He forwarded the picture to everyone on his email list, and about three minutes after that (amazing how technology works) one of my oldest and dearest friends Ericka, texted back, “You look happy!” And it was then that I realized, that I was. In that time, in those moments, on that day, I was happy. And now I know that happiness is like that. Happiness comes to us in moments, in hours during the day and it is so important to embrace and cherish and feel, really feel those moments, because they don’t last forever. Two thanksgivings back, Thanksgiving 2005, actually, I was at my mom’s house and once again, I was happy. In fact, we were all happy. My whole entire family! We were all happy to be together. It was something has rarely happened, us all being together and happy. (We are an extremely dysfunctional bunch.) But miraculously, in 2005, it happened. All together, all happy, including my stepfather Steve, which was odd, because he was not someone who I would describe as being especially happy, ever. My sister described Steve as a “miserable soul.” I wouldn’t say that about him exactly, but happiness, just never seemed to be really high on his list of priorities. Anyway, for whatever reason Thanksgiving of 2005, Steve was happy, really, really happy. Thanksgiving 2006, Steve was diagnosed with an incurable case of cancer. (I am not making this up, he got the news on Thanksgiving...damn.) On December 10, 2006, Steve was dead. Now this just blew my mind, because no one knew that Steve had cancer. Before the diagnosis, it never occurred to anyone, that Steve was going to die anytime soon. Steve was this really, reliable, stand-up kind of guy. If something needed to be done, Steve was your man. He would do it, if there was an event to be attended, Steve would be there. He might not be too happy about it. But he would be there and he would do whatever needed to be done to make the event go off smoother. As for me, I took him for granted. I always imagined that he would be there. It never occurred to me that Steve would die at sixty. Steve, I figured, would be puttering around, albeit somberly, at age ninety. But, no. Steve is gone, but his death taught me a lot. Steve’s death taught me that I have to enjoy my life NOW. I can and I should be happy, NOW…and when it happens, in those moments, and those hours on those days, I should savor and cherish the feeling, because there just really is no way of knowing when it is all going to be over. When this particular type of happiness that we’ve shared with the ones we’ve loved, can be no more, because we are no more, or they are no more…at least not in this time and space. And so okay…I was looking through my things one day…and I came across this home video tape that Steve had made for me, right before he died. Steve was the home video guy…fi there was an event going down, Steve was there with his camera, capturing it all…the days of our lives. Anyway, he had taped me this one night in December of 1988. It was my prom night. (Don’t even ask why my prom was in December that is a whole other story) I was on my way to my prom with Key. Steve was teasing me, and Key was playing along…and in those moments that I had completely forgotten all about, I had been laughing. I had been so excited about that silly prom and now…because I know what it looks like and feels like I realized that I was…happy. These are the days of our lives…be happy.

Mimi (http://mimibyrd.zaadz.com/) tagged me to tell you 7 unusual things about myself and to tag 7 people. Here are the Rules of Engagement. 1. Link to the person's blog who tagged you 2. Post these rules on your blog. 3. List seven random and/or weird facts about yourself 4.. Tag seven random (?) people at the end of your post and include links to their blogs. 5. Let each person know that they have been tagged by posting a comment on their blog. 7 Random Things about me: #1. I just started doing zaadz so I'm not sure how to tag and link and blog and such, but I'm gonna try. It sounds like fun. Here goes. #2 As a child, whenever we played tag, freeze tag, TV tag, slow mow tag, I was always it. I just always got tagged as it, no matter what the game and I stayed it! I coudl never catch anyone else. I hated tag! #3 I grew up in industrial Cleveland, Ohio in the hood (an all black, inner-city community) when crack hit it, in the 1980s. So I grew up experiencing more violence, crime, drugs, poverty, than I would guess the typical American experiences...and if that wasn't strange enough... #4 I got a scholarship to an extremely exclusive prep school where I experienced greater wealth, luxury, privilege, and educational opportunities, than I would guess the typical American experiences. #5 In high school I was voted, "Rebel Without a Cause." It annoyed me because I felt like I had causes, I mean I had about 500 of them. I was a fighter! I fought against anything and everything. I guess my classmates thought that becasue I was always fighting against everything, I wasn't really fighting for anything. What do you know, they were right. #6 I'm a girl's girl. I love my girlfriends, of which I have several. One day, before I die I want to have a big huge pajama party/weekend with all my girls! And we'll eat chocolate and drink fruity drinks and just love one another! I am so lucky to have had some of the best friends you could ever imagine. #7 My father had bipolar disorder way before it was hip, like it is now, or anyone knew what to do about it. He went to Harvard and majored in quantum physics. He has always told me things like: "Nothing is impossible" and "There is no such thing as reality" and "People only have as much power as you give the." and finally "You don't have to do anything except die." He is the most interesting, amazing, intelligent, and beautiful person I have ever known BUT he is also the most unintelligible, hateful, ugly, horrific, horredous monster I have ever known and I just don't know how to feel about any of this. I never have. Well that's me. Below are the blogs I've tagged...and I really looked around for blogs that I thought were really intriguing; and I tried to tag those who had not been tagged, but so many people have already been tagged so sorry. http://pelle.zaadz.com/blog http://mascha.zaadz.com/blog http://brucealderman.zaadz.com/blog http://aqalicious.zaadz.com/blog http://laurkat.zaadz.com/blog http://siona.zaadz.com/blog http://johna16.zaadz.com/blog PEACE Amber Lisa

"Out of college, money's spent. See no future, pay no rent. All the money's gone. Nowhere to go. Oh that magic feeling...nowhere to go."

John Lennon and Paul McCartney

What could possibly be magical about the moment when all possible alternatives, avenues and options in life seem shut down? We've all been there, haven't we? The gas tank is on E, the furniture is on the street, the girl or guy is gone, the pink slip is on hand, on Christmas Eve, no less! It's just business, not personal. (I personally hate it when people say that shit...it's personal as hell to me! Let me fire your ass and then we'll see how personal that shit is to you!) Everything has gone to pot, all the money is gone and there really is nowhere to go. How could this possibly leave anyone with a magic feeling?

Because these are the moments when miracles occur; and miracles feel quite magical. I remember the first time I experiecned one such miraculous, magic moment. I was sick, dehydrated and starving actually, in a tent, in a parking lot in Mexico. I was about ten years old. How did I get there? My father took me. My father who is, a homicidal maniac, among other things. I kid you not. In his more sadistic moments, he refers to himself, (laughingly) as "Grave Danger." (His name is actually Dave Granger)

Anyway, this one summer in about 1982, Dave took me, my pregnant mother, my four-year-old sister, and my two-year-old brother on this cross country trip, where he would be totally unfettered in his tyrannical rants and psychotic tendencies. By July, the four of us were in a tent, sick and slowly dying, while Dave, seemingly oblivious to our plight, waxed poetic about the wonder and beauty or this alternative reality he had created for us. He did not seem to realize that we were dying in a tent in a parking lot in Mexico. We had no money. We had no food. We had no gasoline for our car. We had not a sane adult in our family. (My poor, crazy mother is a whole other story.) We had, quite simply, nowhere to go.

I assessed the situation, with my little ten year old mind, and I thought to myself, we will die down here, in this filthy little tent, in this parking lot, in Mexico. We will die. But what else was there to do? We had nowhere to go.

I prayed, "Oh God, please God, If there is a God, Please, please, please God. Please get us the hell up out of Mexico. We are dying here."

And so...the miraculous happened. Dave, in all of his insanity, had a moment of clarity. He piled all of us into the 74 Chevy Nova, (sick as we all were) and began driving back to the US border, which was a good three hundred miles away. We were deep into Mexico with about enough gas to travel, I don't know, thirty of those three hundred miles.

Still, I remember praying, and holding my sister's dirty little hand in the back seat of the car, praying, praying, praying. This woman, an Indian, ran up to our car knocking on the window, speaking Spanish fast and furious as if her life depended upon it! We had no idea what the hell she was talking about.

"No hablo espanol" was our standard response to this type of thing, as Mexicans were always running up on us, speaking Spanish, fast and furious. We gave our response and then she responded, in English just as crisp and clear as the King's, "Ride to Juarez please." It was a request, that was quite miraculous. Juarez is the Border town in Mexico that runs right up against, El Paso, Texas. It was exactly the place we were trying to get back to.

This Indian woman paid our entire way back to the States! She bought us gas, and food, and even offered us some home remedies for our sickness. After the request for the ride, her ability to speak English disappeared. We never even learned her name and never saw her again after we made it back to the States.

But I'll never forget her...or that magic feeling. What I learned from that experience, is that whenever you think you have absolutley nowhere to go ,a door is going to open for you, and opportunity is going to appear, right out out of nowhere! You just have to be alert, aware and ready to experience that magic feeling.

Love, Peace and Happiness to all and Happy Thanksgiving!

Amber Lisa