Ghost Stories and other truth's.

I have always loved the offbeat and the ghost story. 👻The flying saucers and the vampires. 💀I was a weird kid and I have always been a little different in the way I look at life. The thing is my love of horror movies and novels and flying saucers and science fiction ( though  not hard scifi.)More Bradbury than Asimov. Anyway, the thing is I have a fun and entertaining “get ya popcorn ready” attitude with an honest “What if?” 🚀👽curiosity.  Ironically, I get some of my love of the “unknown” from my religious conservative family. My mother who loved Country music 🎶🎻and battled her own religious guilt was also the first person who took me to the drive in to see “Dust Till Dawn” Horror Movie’s at the Rebel Drive In featuring Christopher Lee and Vincent Price or Boris Karloff. 👀💀Also, watching the The Cyclops and other movies featuring radioactive fall out and dangerous aliens and monsters on the old Dialing for Dollars afternoon movies.

My maternal grandmother who was Church of God and extremely devout told the story of an aunt who really didn’t like her as a child. The aunt died and one night my grandmother said she was in the house alone. She heard a creek on the stairs and there was her aunt coming down the stairs saying “I’ve been waiting a long time for this.” Scared the crap out of me as a child. Was my grandmother relating a story or a dream? I honestly can’t remember now but it was scary. 👻

My paternal great aunt lived in a really old house in Walnut Grove, Alabama. Civil war era home. She would go upstairs and get an old fox fur or something. I was really young but if I wasn’t minding. She would get the fur and throw it down the stairs while yelling “The hobgoblin is coming Stevie.”  😈 Yeah, I come from an eccentric bunch of people.

My hometown/county has a beautiful waterfall. It’s called Noccalula Falls and the area belonged to the Cherokee and the Creek Indian Tribes. Sorry I mean no offense and I know Native American is the “correct” term. But, I’m using the language of my youth and the way I heard the story. It comes from my mother who’s father and my grandfather’s side of the family perhaps passed down. My grandfather’s grandmother was Cherokee or at least that’s what was said. He certainly had the high cheekbones and dark skin. 

The story goes that (and this first part is actual town legend and not a family story.) the Cherokee chief wanted peace with the other tribe. So, he promised his daughter Noccalula in marriage💍 to the other chief’s son. Noccalula had a brave she was in love with in her own tribe. When she realized her father was going to force her to marry the other man she jumped off the falls to her death rather than be married to a man she didn’t love. 💔My hometown of Gadsden actually has an ugly giant statue showing her jumping to her death. Awful taste by the city but I digress. Now for the story my family tells: On a clear night if you are quiet you can hear the Indian Princess weeping for her lost love. When the moon 🌕is full and you look under the falls you can see her sitting on a rock combing her long black hair while she weeps  for her lost love.

So, yeah I’ve always loved the offbeat. I enjoy scary stories and books talking about alien abductions and trips aboard flying saucers. I’ve had Sleep paralysis since my youth. More in my youth than now. You can google it. It’s a real thing.  

I loved my Weekly Reader in elementary school. I would order the ghost stories on the book order form. I have always enjoyed a good scare. I read Salem’s Lot in the mid to late 70’s and became a Constant Reader as Stephen King calls his fans. 📙I battled my religious background on that one folks. You have to be from the bible belt south to understand that one. So, I’ve always had this love of things that go bump in the night.💀👻

I had a childhood friend. She was my sister’s best friend. Tonya. She had ivory skin and jet black hair. We clicked I think because we were odd kids. We had a séance in the backyard because Tonya had lost an uncle to a fire and I think we were trying to see if we could reach him. I don’t remember for sure I’d have to ask my sister who remembers it better than I do.💀

My step father’s family had an old house in Center, Alabama that they say was haunted👻 and a little Chihuahua  dog that could buzz like a bumble bee and ask to go outside. I know it’s weird but I remember the little fella doing a dog half bark half growl and I swear it sounded like “I want to go out maw.” There was an old attic in that house with some old books from the 1800’s.

Gawd, I sound like a John Grisham novel as far as weird southern families.  But, I sometimes feel guilty that my own son who was born in Colorado to me late in life will never know the eccentricities of long ago southern adults.  But, maybe that’s a good thing.

I remember being scared to death by an old black and white movie from that long ago era. “The Haunting” based on the Shirley Jackson novel  “The Haunting of Hill House.” 👻

"No live organism can continue for long to exist sanely under conditions of absolute reality; even larks and katydids are supposed, by some, to dream. Hill House, not sane, stood by itself against its hills, holding darkness within; it had stood for eighty years and might stand for eighty more. Within, walls continued upright, bricks met neatly, floors were firm, and doors were sensibly shut; silence lay steadily against the wood and stone of Hill House, and whatever walked there, walked alone."….Shirley Jackson.

Three things about the movie stand out for me. So much so that I watch it every few years during the Halloween season. As a child this freaked me out and this is how I remember the scenes.

1. The old statues in the garden appear to move. The character looks and then looks away. When she looks back again? They are in a different place.
2.  2. The child of the owner is shown as a little girl in the nursery. Then she ages as the years pass. Finally, shown as an old woman beating on the walls with her cane trying to get her housekeeper to help her and dying as the cane drops to the floor. 
3. 3. Two women (with an undercurrent of sexuality that I missed as a child) share a room. There is a pounding on the walls during the night (remember the old lady?) as the pounding increases one woman cries out “Stop squeezing my hand so hard. You’re hurting my hand.” Then from across the room she hears her roommate “I’m not squeezing your hand.” As the roommate turns on the light it’s clear that she is not anywhere near the bed. “Oh God, who was squeezing my hand?” Scary stuff for a six or seven year old child back in the day. But, I love that movie
4. .I have other memories of my grandmother's old house in Altoona, Alabama. Not fiction. But, I don't want to go into that right now. So my love of the offbeat is also mixed with actual experience.
5. I'm sure it can be explained psychologically. Right? 😱As a youth I I really wanted to be a vampire. Eternally young and you could have any girl ya wanted. Zombies always bored me. No personality. They can't sit at a meal and tell you they never drink..wine. 🍷 They can't seduce a woman or talk about the children of the night. 🌙 No cool vampire bats or female vamps hiding in the basement. I swear zombies are more boring than werewolves. Which are actually pretty cool. 
6. 
   I love to read the actual conjecture of people like Jacques Vallee the French scientist the character in Close Encounters was based on. John Fuller writing about an alien abduction case called The Andreason Affair. Doctor David Jacobs talking about alien hybrids. The late Harvard Psychiatrist John Mack writing on the spiritual or interdemensional aspects of alien abduction phenomena. 👽
7. 
   I enjoy reading and watching all this and more. Facebook is a great way to research this stuff. I'm in a reincarnation Facebook group that researches spontaneous memories of past lives as well as the late psychiatrist Ian Stevenson's work with children who remember past life experience. 
8. You would be surprised once you let go of the "this can't be true" dogma of your religion or scientism that you have been force fed from childhood in many cases .The real world is at least if not more weird and mysterious as our fiction.
9.  So how much of this do I really believe? I mainly find it fun and interesting. So I believe very little. But then again. In some ways I believe it all. 
10. Peace. ✌👀👻👽

Always have. I have other memories of my grandmother’s old home in Altoona, Alabama that are odd also. But, I don’t want to get into them right now. So, my love of the offbeat is also mixed in with actual experience. I’m sure it can be explained psychologically. Right?

As a young man I really wanted to be a vampire. I mean eternally young and you could get any girl ya wanted. That may be one reason zombies always just bored me. No personality. They can’t sit at a meal and tell you they never drink…wine. They can’t seduce a woman or give a statement about their children of the night. No cool bats or female vamps hiding in the basement. I swear Zombies are more boring than Werewolves. Who actually are pretty cool.

I love to read the actual real conjecture of people like Jacques Vallee the French scientist who the character in “Close Encounters” was based on. John Fuller writing about the Betty Addreason abduction by aliens. Doctor David Jacobs writing about Alien hybrids and even the late  Doctor John Mack the Harvard Psychiatrist who also wrote on the alien abduction phenomenon.

I find all this and more to be vastly more interesting than the political and religious arguments on facebook these days. But, facebook is a great place to continue to research this stuff.

I am a member of a facebook group that researches along the inspiration of Doctor Ian Stevenson who used the scientific method to record and collect data of children who remember past lives. This  group focuses on spontaneous memories of adults. You would be surprised once you let go of the “this can’t happen” dogma of your religion or scientism that you have been force fed. The real world is at least as weird and wonderful and even scary as our fiction.

So, how much of this do I believe? I mainly have fun and also an interest so I actually “believe” very little. But, then again in some ways I believe it all.

Peace.

Always have. I have other memories of my 

grandmother’s old home in Altoona, Alabama that are odd also. But, I don’t want to get into them right now. So, my love of the offbeat is also mixed in with actual experience. I’m sure it can be explained psychologically. Right?

As a young man I really wanted to be a vampire. I mean eternally young and you could get any girl ya wanted. That may be one reason zombies always just bored me. No personality. They can’t sit at a meal and tell you they never drink…wine. They can’t seduce a woman or give a statement about their children of the night. No cool bats or female vamps hiding in the basement. I swear Zombies are more boring than Werewolves. Who actually are pretty cool.

I love to read the actual real conjecture of people like Jacques Vallee the French scientist who the character in “Close Encounters” was based on. John Fuller writing about the Betty Addreason abduction by aliens. Doctor David Jacobs writing about Alien hybrids and even the late  Doctor John Mack the Harvard Psychiatrist who also wrote on the alien abduction phenomenon.

I find all this and more to be vastly more interesting than the political and religious arguments on facebook these days. But, facebook is a great place to continue to research this stuff.

I am a member of a facebook group that researches along the inspiration of Doctor Ian Stevenson who used the scientific method to record and collect data of children who remember past lives. This  group focuses on spontaneous memories of adults. You would be surprised once you let go of the “this can’t happen” dogma of your religion or scientism that you have been force fed. The real world is at least as weird and wonderful and even scary as our fiction.

So, how much of this do I believe? I mainly have fun and also an interest so I actually “believe” very little. But, then again in some ways I believe it all.

Peace.

have always loved the offbeat and the ghost story. The flying saucers and the vampires.👽 I was a weird kid and I have always been a little different in the way I look at life. The thing is my love of horror movies and novels and flying saucers and science fiction ( though  not hard scifi.)More Bradbury than Asimov. Anyway, the thing is I have a fun and entertaining “get ya popcorn ready” attitude with an honest “What if?” curiosity.  Ironically, I get some of my love of the “unknown” from my religious conservative family. My mother who loved Country music 🎻and battled her own religious guilt was also the first person who took me to the drive in to see “Dust Till Dawn” Horror Movie’s at the Rebel Drive In featuring Christopher Lee and Vincent Price or Boris Karloff. Also, watching the The Cyclops and other movies featuring radioactive fall out and dangerous aliens and monsters on the old Dialing for Dollars afternoon movies.🎬

My maternal grandmother who was Church of God and extremely devout told the story of an aunt who really didn’t like her as a child. The aunt died and one night my grandmother said she was in the house alone. She heard a creek on the stairs and there was her aunt coming down the stairs saying “I’ve been waiting a long time for this.” Scared the crap out of me as a child. 

👻Was my grandmother relating a story or a dream? I honestly can’t remember now but it was scary. My paternal great aunt lived in a really old house in Walnut Grove, Alabama. Civil war era home. She would go upstairs and get an old fox fur or something. I was really young but if I wasn’t minding. She would get the fur and throw it down the stairs while yelling “The hobgoblin is coming Stevie.”  Yeah, I come from an eccentric bunch of people. 😈💀😱

My hometown/county has a beautiful waterfall. It’s called Noccalula Falls and the area belonged to the Cherokee and the Creek Indian Tribes. Sorry I mean no offense and I know Native American is the “correct” term. But, I’m using the language of my youth and the way I heard the story. It comes from my mother who’s father and my grandfather’s side of the family perhaps passed down. My grandfather’s grandmother was Cherokee or at least that’s what was said. He certainly had the high cheekbones and dark skin. 

The story goes that (and this first part is actual town legend and not a family story.) the Cherokee chief wanted peace with the other tribe. So, he promised his daughter Noccalula in marriage to the other chief’s son. Noccalula had a brave she was in love with in her own tribe. When she realized her father was going to force her to marry the other man she jumped off the falls to her death rather than be married to a man she didn’t love. My hometown of Gadsden actually has an ugly giant statue showing her jumping to her death. Awful taste by the city but I digress.

 Now for the story my family tells: On a clear night if you are quiet you can hear the Indian Princess weeping for her lost love. When the moon is full and you look under the falls you can see her sitting on a rock combing her long black hair while she weeps  for her lost love.

So, yeah I’ve always loved the offbeat. I enjoy scary stories and books talking about alien abductions and trips aboard flying saucers. I’ve had Sleep paralysis since my youth. More in my youth than now. You can google it. It’s a real thing.  

I loved my Weekly Reader in elementary school. I would order the ghost stories on the book order form. 📙I have always enjoyed a good scare. I read Salem’s Lot in the mid to late 70’s and became a Constant Reader as Stephen King calls his fans. I battled my religious background on that one folks. You have to be from the bible belt south to understand that one. So, I’ve always had this love of things that go bump in the night.

I had a childhood friend. She was my sister’s best friend. Tonya. She had ivory skin and jet black hair. We clicked I think because we were odd kids. We had a séance in the backyard because Tonya had lost an uncle to a fire and I think we were trying to see if we could reach him. I don’t remember for sure I’d have to ask my sister who remembers it better than I do.

My step father’s family had an old house in Center, Alabama that they say was haunted and a little Chihuahua  dog that could buzz like a bumble bee and ask to go outside. I know it’s weird but I remember the little fella doing a dog half bark half growl and I swear it sounded like “I want to go out maw.” There was an old attic in that house with some old books from the 1800’s.

Gawd, I sound like a John Grisham novel as far as weird southern families. 💀 But, I sometimes feel guilty that my own son who was born in Colorado to me late in life will never know the eccentricities of long ago southern adults.  But, maybe that’s a good thing.

I remember being scared to death by an old black and white movie from that long ago era. “The Haunting” based on the Shirley Jackson novel  “The Haunting of Hill House.”

"No live organism can continue for long to exist sanely under conditions of absolute reality; even larks and katydids are supposed, by some, to dream. Hill House, not sane, stood by itself against its hills, holding darkness within; it had stood for eighty years and might stand for eighty more. Within, walls continued upright, bricks met neatly, floors were firm, and doors were sensibly shut; silence lay steadily against the wood and stone of Hill House, and whatever walked there, walked alone."….Shirley Jackson.

Three things about the movie stand out for me. So much so that I watch it every few years during the Halloween season. As a child this freaked me out and this is how I remember the scenes.👀

1. The old statues in the garden appear to move. The character looks and then looks away. When she looks back again? They are in a different place. 
2. The child of the owner is shown as a little girl in the nursery. Then she ages as the years pass. Finally, shown as an old woman beating on the walls with her cane trying to get her housekeeper to help her and dying as the cane drops to the floor. 
3. Two women (with an undercurrent of sexuality that I missed as a child) share a room. There is a pounding on the walls during the night (remember the old lady?) as the pounding increases one woman cries out “Stop squeezing my hand so hard. You’re hurting my hand.” Then from across the room she hears her roommate “I’m not squeezing your hand.” As the roommate turns on the light it’s clear that she is not anywhere near the bed. “Oh God, who was squeezing my hand?” Scary stuff for a six or seven year old child back in the day. But, I love that movie. Always have.

Rants!

Things I don't put on my facebook wall because my wall is kind of like my den at home. It's a place for peace and talking about possibilities and hopes and sharing good books, movies and pop culture along with some jokes. But, my blog is like my man cave. It's a no bullshit zone. I settle into my favorite chair in my underwear and have a brew and enjoy life and talk about what I really think or what really has my interest at the time. I love some folks who like Donald Trump and conservative politics and I try to have a friendly facebook wall. I have some friends who are so liberal that it makes me want to burn my ACLU card if I had one. So, I try to enjoy facebook and share a laugh and interest. But, here? This is where I let my hair down. At least I would if I had any hair.

Quick mini social work rant: NO! But hell no your problems are not due to Mexicans coming to America and receiving thousands of dollars in benefits just for crossing the border. They also are not due to poor women having 18 babies (i actually heard this 2day) and receiving bundles of free money. Sheesh people grow up. Ya know if you would stop pounding the anti abortion drums then you ...oh wait that would be a sin. But, letting them starve and be sick once they get here? Not so much. Sheesh! Between the silly liberal "woke" chit and the heartless conservative selfish "not with my taxes crap" I just despair of the human race. Now. Deep breath. I'm done. Thanks for listening.

I’m working and a nurse an actual #$%&* nurse who should know better starts blaming illegals because an old veteran can’t get in a nursing home without paying or having the state seize his property for Medicaid. Now, I understand that it’s a shame when a person works their whole life and can’t leave land and bank accounts to their own children when they are at the end of life and can’t stay by themselves. But, Illegals? Really? If it were not for illegals the “state” excuse me while I belly laugh. Anyway, the state could afford to pay for free nursing homes for veterans. Really? Wow, so the nursing homes instead must be full of illegal Mexican old people getting free health care on the American taxpayers dime. Sheesh. When I explained that here in the great state of Alabama we have been Republican led for generations and a republican Gov’na Mistah Robert Bentley refused federal funds for Medicaid while funneling money to his mistress I was met by a blank stare. When I point out that GOP Led Aladamnbama is among the highest in infant mortality rates and lowest in education and has a high poverty rate I am met by a blank stare. Oh, but if I tell em Obama is outside with the black panthers about to take over the guvment. That they would believe. Sheesh!

Donald Trump misspoke from his written notes (and they got all over Obama over a teleprompter) and didn’t mean to say Putin is his daddy. But, Putin is his daddy. J Honestly, I try I really try. But, I have a problem understanding how my fellow southerners who have waved the flag and pounded the bible for so many years can support this pig with a straight face. The man wouldn’t piss on em if they were on fire. He took a Medal of Honor from an actual veteran and smirked with his fat mouth and said “I always wanted one of these” and put it in his draft dodging pocket and the conservatives cheered for him. Can you imagine if Bill Clinton had of done that? He mocked a man who was a prisoner of war and called other veterans losers for getting caught. He mocked a disabled man and then didn’t have the guts to own up to it. He sent his “best wishes” when Americans were gunned down. Honestly, the man’s a mental midget. His own wife (who at least was honest enough to admit she married him because he is rich) won’t even hold his hand in public. He has affairs with porn stars and pays em off but Frankie Graham (who has smeared his father’s good name) calls him a baby Christian. Trump however, has not really ever embraced Christian ethics or beliefs he just panders to the useful idiots of the far right.

Woke: I am so tired of little twats of about 22-25 years of age telling me I’m white splaining or privileged. I saw a little Asian college aged student crying on the internet because some jerk called her an (get ready for it) An Eggroll! OMG! She broke down. The horror! I also saw where a multi million dollar basketball player said it was tough to be a black man in America. Really? You live in a gated mansion and have servants and adoring people everytime you walk outside and never have to  deal with the rabble. Yeah, you got it tough. I’ll have to remind my white neighbor who lost his job and almost lost his home how good he has it because at least he’s white. I’ll have to tell the next client at work not to worry about not having rent or food or a vehicle or clothes for her baby. Because at least she’s not black like that poor oppressed multi millionaire athlete. The last time I looked the Asian’s and Hispanics and Arabs all came to this country for the same reasons my Shanty Irish Ancestors did. For opportunity. Now, black folks? Yeah they were brought in chains. But, the rest of y’all need to grow the fuck up! Getting called names? OMG! I’ve been called stuff that would cause some of these poor oppressed rich kids to go into the fetal position in the corner. The real divide in America is MONEY! If you have it you are privileged and can do whatever you want to do. If you don’t? Then you fucked.

Religion: I am so over religion. I do have my own beliefs and I’m not an atheist by any stretch of anybody’s imagination. But, this one size fits all religion is silly. Puh-leese if your God got kicked oout of school then you need to start spelling it with a little “g” because the actual ground of all being can’t be kicked anywhere.

Abortion: I do understand. I really do. The ultra libs want to act like taking a baby from the womb and stopping it’s heart beat is a holy rite of womanhood. On the other hand the ultra right want’s  to act as if once a baby is born unless it marches lockstep with them then it’s a libtard anyway and can be treated with disdain. Ultimately, it’s a woman’s decision about bringing a person into this world. Stop sugar coating it as a “right of feminism” or passage. But, understand that if you are going to cut social programs and not provide birth control and have a “let em eat cake attitude” then mind you own business.

Religion Part 2: You are not God and your scripture may or may not be correct so live your own life. Some of us are tired of some of you trying to run a country on 2 to 6000 year old translated writings based on Jewish dietary laws and long forgotten conflicts and myths. The bible isn’t one whole book. It was translated and passed down word of mouth and finally some guys from Rome in funny hats decided what you call “approved scripture.” I have found and still find much inspiration in the Psalms and Prophets but don’t try to run everybody else’s life on your religion.

 

Why I'm not an atheist or a religious fundi.

 A facebook friend from Britain who is also a gifted author and researcher posted this on his wall and it got me to thinking. Now, this wasn’t the whole thing and he is not an atheist at least not to my knowledge. But, it is the single most brutally honest definition of atheistic materialism I have yet read. He isn’t a materialist but was talking about the dogma of materialism. The quote:

  “You cease to exist.

What this means is that everything about you, all your hopes dreams, loves, hates, all are for nothing. You will never meet your loved ones ever again.

For billions of years you did not exist and for billions of years you will not exist. In effect something existed for a vanishingly small amount of time when taking into account the age of the universe, this something perceived something and then disappeared as if it never existed at all. It spent this small amount of time believing it had some form of inner existence, but, if modern science is to be believed, these “perceptions” were simply an accidental outcome of blind evolution; an “epiphenomenon” of brain processes.

There was no point to this life other than its short existence.

Morality and humanity have no meaning in this scenario. This life could have been lived in an orgy of brutality and nastiness or in a caring, loving way. The universe is totally indifferent to this. Indeed, in such a scenario the only rational approach to this short life is a life of hedonism and self-gratification and/or suicide, which is the only way that such a creature can really take any control in a deterministic and indifferent universe rapidly moving to a state of total heat-death.

Nothing matters and life is pointless. Then you die and that is it.”…Anthony Peake from a much longer post on life and death.

 

The above captures my feelings about atheism in its entirety and is the main reason that I’m not an atheist. I truly believe the universe is sane even if insanity happens within it. A pointless soulless universe in my opinion would not be a sane or even desirable universe. Neither from an evolutionary or spiritual point of view. Certainly not from a personal lifetime view. Mr. Peake also takes on the traditional heaven and hell of fundamentalist religion. While I agree that the static heaven or hell for eternity based on our few earth minutes also makes little sense. I no longer hold that view but I also don’t try to convert people who do. One of my views of God is If you can totally define God then you should write with a little “g” since the source of all being isn’t a creature in the created universe. If Satan is Lex Luthor to God’s Superman  then God isn’t God he’s god. But, that’s getting into theology and I don’t want to do that here.  However, there is still room to let Deity out of the box and retain the teachings of Christianity without falling in to the one size fits all of American (which I am) Evangelical (Which I’m not) teaching. Still I don’t think I can honestly use the term Christian in the evangelical use and be honest. I prefer Jesus Follower or maybe even just spiritual these days. Maybe just simply “I’m me and I have my journey and I don’t know all the answers would be more honest.”  

I recommend the novel the movie “What Dreams May Come” by Richard Mathewson is based on. The book and not the movie. An accounting of our life on earth and a sterile pointless heaven or hell? No, I agree that isn’t likely. But, if the afterlife is at least as fluid as this one then we have no reason to think we can’t go forward or backwards or sideways just like we do here.  I don’t prescribe to any guru or book or one size fits all explanation of life. But, the idea that we gravitate to the people and places our spirit is at home with in the next life makes sense to me. One day I will try a better explanation of my thoughts on the subject of life after death.  As for reincarnation I have some thoughts on that since I honestly do lean or gravitate towards that in a general or non dogmatic way.

as an adult with some past life memory and having meditated and found some possible patterns in my life I don’t think reincarnation has made me a totally different being and I do lean towards the concept although not the religious views of reincarnation.  To say it’s disconnected would be to say that just because I don’t remember spilling my baby food down my chin as an infant means it has no relation to my being now. Of course it does. I’m the same “I AM” for want of a better term. Now, where I was born and what I experience in this lifetime absolutely affects my way of dealing with life and my personality. But, the “I AM” is not discontinued.  I am now in my sixth decade of this life’s journey. I have had heart surgery and the little pains and things of my youth that I could happily ignore are now signs that my doctor says I have to pay attention to.

The road before me isn’t as long as the road behind me in this life. Somedays that’s hard to get my mind around . But, on the other hand it has given me a certain freedom. At work when the little emergencies pop up and OMG moments from Montgomery or local management I’m able to take a breath and breathe and even smile. It can run the powers that be crazy but that’s also a bonus. It’s also a strength when I hear people argue politics and just so stories be they conservative or liberal. It’s not that I don’t care it’s just that you have to take a step back and if a stand really needs to be made then you make it. If not then don’t waste your breath trying to convert somebody who refuses to be converted.

But, the main thing is my thought that the universe isn’t insane even if insane things happen. My hope is in my knowledge that it does matter and there is a place where I can become fully myself and allow others the same hope.

One of my favorite passages in the bible is Psalms 87:7. Depending on the version you read it may be worded slightly differently. But, I love what it means to me. “All My Fountains Are In You.”  That’s my greatest strength. Even in times of pondering my own mortality I believe there is a better more real place that I come from and that I go back to. A source which some call God and some call Spirit and some call consciousness and some call ground of all being. I no longer see that source in a Sunday School version but I still have my inner dialog and I know the universe is sane.

I agree with Martin Luther King Jr. “The arc of the moral universe is long. But, it finally bends towards justice.

Peace.

Life

Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting: The soul that rises with us, our life’s star, hath had elsewhere it’s setting, and cometh from afar, not in entire forgetfulness, and not in utter nakedness, but trailing clouds of glory do we come from God, who is our home: William Wordsworth   “Immortality.”

 

I love sports and good books and classic rock. I love beautiful women and good old shoot em ups at the movies. I enjoy watching the sky at night and seeing the stars, planets and satellite’s along with the moon which I seem to find endlessly fascinating. Coffee in the morning my wife’s smile before I go to bed my son rushing quickly through the house saying a quick hi on the way to computer mysteries and endeavors I know little to nothing about. Simple things like playing my guitar (however badly) and plunking at the piano. Putting in the Eagles on the cd player in my 20 year old truck or at times putting on Foghat playing “Slow Ride” as loud as I can and screaming out the lyrics and  feeling about 40 years younger for a few minutes.  Thinking about the most beautiful girl in the world from that era (no I won’t say who) and besides I’m a happily married fat little old man now and glad to be here.  

I think about my grandparents who raised me and the dark haired spitfire that was my mother and in who I still look at times and see just a little of that person in the gray haired little old lady who talks mostly about God and my sister these days.  I think about my Dad who I reconnected with due to the magic of facebook in these later years and all the years missed due to hurt and silly ego and the human condition. 

I lost a friend who was more of a brother than a friend this year to early onset dementia and finally his body just stopped. I wonder where he is now. I know he wasn’t always there during the illness and I like to think he is free now and fully himself again.

 I think of bike rides around Walnut Park which was the best neighborhood in Alabama City which was the best part of Gadsden, Alabama growing up. I think of hot asphalt and dirt country roads in the little coal town of Altoona, Alabama and girls and beer and a little smell of pot on hot southern nights. Hearing Queen or Nazareth or once it got cranked up Lynyrd Skynyrd.

I say all that to say this. I love life. I have seen good and bad. I’ve seen the time when I was so afraid to put my debit card in a gas pump because I wasn’t sure there was enough on it to get gas and seeing it declined would put a hole in my stomach and a funk on my soul. I’ve seen times when $100 was not a problem and if I lost it I would hardly miss it. I’ve seen empty cupboards and full pantries and I’ve felt the sky topping soul soaring feeling of that “new job” or finally a good paycheck.  This past year I experienced heart failure and complications from surgery that looked like it might take me out and I experienced healing from an incredible medical team in repairing the leak of the new valve that replaced the leaky old valve.  It gave me a different view of rich and poor. Although, I still don’t recommend poverty as a lifestyle I found out that good health tops all.

I have often felt over the years that this world is a pale reflection of my real home. With all of it’s wonder and love and hope. With the tragedy and sorrow and injustice. The lust and the desire and  the needs of life. I fought to stay in this world when I was sick. I struggled to draw that next breath and prayed my thankfulness when I inhaled and felt my lungs expand. Thank you Jesus, God the Holy Spirit and the whole universe. Thank you science and technology and evolution and all the ships at sea. It felt like heaven to breathe again and not feel my life force slipping away with every labored breath. So, I’m not knocking this world. This isn’t a self righteous rant of how I’m a pure spirit and have no fear of death. It also isn’t an admission of secret atheism and fear of physical death either. I learned or had it reinforced in me that health is the key to contentment. I can face death so much better when I’m well. It’s not the dying now that scares me so much. Like Woody Allen once said “I don't mind death. I just don’t want to be there when it happens.” Well I don’t mind death so much since it’s a constant in this world the same as birth. I just don’t want to suffer endless bad health along the way.

I am in my 6^th decade on this earth. I have some life experience and some lucid dreams and even what I believe to be past life memories. I have no desire to prove my theology to anybody else. I have no desire to listen to anybody trying to convert me to the fire and brimstone faith of my upbringing. I  been there and have the t-shirt. I also have no need and no desire to hear an atheist tell me that it’s a wonderful journey even though in a very real sense it means nothing at the end. It just all ends in nothingness praise Darwin and Dawkins. I have no religion these days except to treat people the way I want to be treated. I more often than not treat people the way they treat me. But, my belief is to treat everybody the way I would want to be treated.

I find great peace and spiritual and mental resources in prayer and meditation. I find that in my sixth decade of this journey I don’t try so hard to prove I’m right or justify myself in anybody else’s eyes. I also don’t demand anybody else justify themselves in my eyes. Do I still feel  some things are worth fighting for? Yes. But, I’m not much of a joiner or follower these days. I no longer believe in a one size fits all religion or political movement.

When it comes to social issues like universal health care and shelter and clothing and food I’m absolutely liberal. When it comes to abortion I’m reluctantly pro choice not because I think abortion is a holy right of womanhood. But, simply because unless you are going to provide care and shelter to the mother and the child until the child is completely grown then you are pro birth and that isn’t pro life anyway. Also, it’s the woman’s responsibility. I hate abortion but the truth is as some wise woman once said “If men got pregnant you could get an abortion out of a vending machine.”  I do believe gay people should have the right to marry and leave their belongings to whoever they choose as long as it’s consenting adults.

On the other hand I’m very conservative on some issues. I don’t buy the victimhood game these days.  Everybody want’s their 15 minutes of victimhood. Grow the hell up. I think Bernie Sanders would bankrupt the nation and if you can’t see Donald Trump is an asshole and has limited mental capacity then I’m sorry. You’re just willfully blind.

 If you have a penis you are a man I can’t help how much makeup and dresses you wear. If you have a vagina then you are female and cutting off all your hair and putting on a suit won’t change that. You have to go to the bathroom? It’s a freaking non issue and most of us know that. I never look in a stall to make sure the person using it has the right equipment and unless you make an issue of it I’ve never seen the police called to check on the biology of the person in the next stall. God, we strain at gnats and swallow camels in this society. So, if I have to choose I’ll be over here on the left with the liberals. But, I will still cringe at the self righteous identity politics and the silly culture wars of the left.

Still, I’m from Bama and I’ve seen the far right wing keep a whole state poor and fighting with each other while the politicians get richer. I’m sure right wing folks can point to Detroit or California to show what far left wing politics can do. So, choose your side I guess. But, don’t try to convert, bully or belittle me for not thinking like you do. I will give you the same privilege.

All in all I’m just trying to navigate life without harming anybody else along the way and being true to myself and my journey during this incarnation.

Peace.