Written by Maria Palumbo
Mother Mary came to me
Said my wretchedness is holy
Said the way I bleed and hunger and cry
I create a storm in an otherwise boring sky
And she tells me to stay this way.
Do not succumb to the pressure to be barely seen, heard, to speak so gentle the tiniest bird might out sing you.
In the supermarket.
Roar in the street.
Roar with every step I take.
For my love is brave, she says. I should be proud of what I can do with a heart. While she chose God. And that was an easy choice. But I have decided to fall in love with mankind. Now that is something.
To be brought to my knees and commit the most humbling acts of sheer love. Without knowing how it will land, where it will go. Putting the world deep inside me, and when I let it go, she is more alive than she was without me.
Mother Mary says desire in and of itself is holy.
That my innocence will never die. And they will only see in my who they truly are. So love deep and wide, but do not get caught up in it. Love pure and long, but never erase yourself for it.
Turn it up, or turn it off?
It’s all choice, right?
Do we walk into our fear, or do we hide from it?
Do we assist, knowing there are those who will do their best to stop us, or do we open our hearts and do so anyway?
If they tell you they won’t cause harm should you stuff your power, can they really be trusted?
The enemy can never be trusted.
We’ve got to face the facts …
It comes down to control.
Written by Maria Palumbo, https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=300901216
Love is not:
A series of small kind acts
Polite warmth and conversation
Keeping a strong face
Lavish romantic gestures.
Being able to sit alone in the dark with another human. Know there is nothing you can do to fix a thing and instead just stay.
It is witnessing all of the things that come up when you cannot change your love’s reality. And instead of quelling your pain over their pain with being “helpful,” simply breathing with them instead.
Love is wanting to be as close as you can be to every inch of them, because you cannot help but desire everything they are.
Love is being able to have fun in any situation. Like get-you-kicked-out-for-enjoying-life-way-too-much-fun.
Love wants you sober. Not the life of the party. Love wants to look at you and trust you will be really there looking back.
Love doesn’t care too much about your job. Or your mantra. Or your guru. Or your hair. Love is not impressed by the things we are told to impress people with. Love just wants you naked and free from all those things.
Love is feeling them even when they are not there. It is remembering them regardless if they can remember themselves.
Love is showing up, even if you are not asked to.
Love is having an authentic response without cruelty and also no longer cushioning the truth.
Love is forgetting who you are and remembering it, all at once. The stuff that could hold you back about your past, can’t work here anymore. It is both terrifying to feel the shift in your identity and also liberating.
Love is noticing where you both are lying. And calling eachother out.
It means the illusions of brokenness are shattered. Love expects you powerful. And treats you so.
Love knows you are not perfect. Love wants you especially when you are raw and undone.
Love is a series of seeing the other. The shadow and the light. It is tenderness and truth with these parts, at the right time.
Love is wanting to know where they came from, how they got here, where they are going. Interested in the person behind each trigger or moment of peace.
Love is endlessly curious. Never satiated with the knowledge of what makes someone tic.
Love is being able to laugh hard. Truly finding the absurd humor in most things— for the weight of love is light.
Love takes hundred percent responsibility for causing hurt, without becoming a martyr. In love each issue is resolved with all taking full ownership of hurts or confusion.
Love is feeling completely unprepared by the depth of what is shared. Feeling like a child. Acting like one sometimes. And proceeding forward anyway.
Love will show up when all else have abandoned you. They will not know what to do only that they love you.
Love is risking reputation, importance, and even the relationship itself, to fully adore the human in front of you and the being of your own soul.
Love is freaking out. Or staying calm. And loving just the same.
Love wants what is truly the most powerful mind blowing heart connecting relationship for you. Regardless if it involves them or not.
Love is saying the thing others won’t say. It is speaking up and creating relationship through each word shared.
Love doesn’t die or go away. No matter how much weight they gain or lose, how moody they are, how healthy or unhealthy. Somehow the flame of love keeps burning bright through every storm.
True love is a secret to all except children, the old and dying, and the mystics. The wise never truly know how deep their love can go, and spend their lives finding out.
Being connected is a huge responsibility.
As a human, our bodies are large antennae, amplifying the energies we ‘allow’ to flow through our mind, our heart. We are instruments of either the light or the dark, doing good things, or otherwise.
When we are in the midst of addictive behaviors, we open ourself, and become vulnerable to those who wish to ‘command’ our thoughts and actions.
Often, when we experience someone berating us, abusing us, doing things that destroy our inner value system, these are not person to person attacks … although they appear to be. It is the result of one party being controlled, and the negative is permitted, many times simply because a person is unwitting of the interference, and actually embrace the evil deeds, claiming the actions and thoughts as their own, thinking the harm they do is due to their power alone, not understanding they are permitting themselves to be used as puppet to perform deeds that they alone will pay and suffer for, when they are discovered.
What appears to be strong is actually weak. What appears to be weak, is actually strong, which is why those evil ones in the invisible world wish to have them squashed, their spirits shattered. They use the easily controlled to perform vile acts to gain its own desired end.
While the ones damaging believe themselves to be strong, and are often protected by the laws meant to stop them, the world believes they are strong. But appearances, what seems to be real, is not.
It’s a power play. Are you allowing your self to be played by them? Do you care? Is the rush of permitting your self to be vile an even exchange for your integrity, morality … for your very soul?
Have you forgotten love? Have you quick fighting for its prevalence?
What seems to be your own decisions may not be … it is crucial to understand whether the actual act, matches your heart.
Don’t be a pawn. Step into your power and know there is something far more powerful that the evil you are being pushed to perform.
Fight dammit! Fight like your soul depends on it, because it does.
You are a weapon, don’t allow yourself to be manipulated for hurtful deeds of any kind. It truly does depend on your inner fortitude… yours, and yours alone … in combination with the others who stand firm.
Goodness will prevail … where do you stand?
The late James Scott, who died around 1944 at about 110 years of age, walked in the forced Removal from the Alabama/Georgia region to Oklahoma when he was 7 or 8 years old. His parents died during the Removal. He was from Okemah, Oklahoma.
The following is his recollection of the Removal:
“One morning, when it was already getting cold, a runner came to our village out of breath, saying haltingly, “Talking papers. They are sending people with talking papers-people are already disappearing-what’s left behind is being stolen. They are sending us to a burial ground. They keep talking about judgment day. We need to either hide or mix with other tribes up north. These demons are shooting Indians if we resist. I have to warn the next village.” He left and, even though I was just a boy, I knew that something very bad was about to happen-A dark cloud hovered over us. I don’t know how many days went by. We started gathering provisions, we talked about other tribal towns, The earth trembled, and even the trees seemed to be shaking. The hovering dark cloud brought the evil men sooner than we expected. The soldiers started shooting. The whites rounded us up like cattle and put shackles on the strong men.
There was a silent cry-no words-so devastating-silent prayers-then low humming of the chant of communal encouragement. Gun butts were hitting mouths. That morning cold winds blew-like judgment day.
We did not know where we were heading. There were talking papers-more talking papers-The whites would keep on bringing talking papers, and tragedy always followed. Along the trail, they split us up. I lost my mother and father and ended up with an uncle. Little babies sometimes would have their head smashed against a tree. Strong shackled men were used for pulling wagons and chopping wood. Those who got sick were left or dumped by the soldiers. There was hardly any food-People were hungry, cold, and frost bitten. The whites roasted meat and the aroma made you want to die. Each time someone fell, they sacrificed, saying, “Take my blanket-I am going home.” The chilling wind never left us-we have seen blizzards-now we were in one. Even Strong Buffalo would not have survived such a winter. Somehow, the Creator was with us. Most of the time, children walked; However, sometimes they would be allowed to ride in a wagon with older folks. About the time we reached Indian territory. There were very few of us-mostly older children and shackled men. After our walk, there were no babies left; they killed the babies. Hardly any women made it. I only had one uncle left. We began with about 500 in our group and we wound up with 50 and we wound up near Okemah, Asilanabi, Greenleaf, The places where we finished growing up. These places were near some Christian Indians who had already got there before us. The last day – I was always looking for it, but it did not come. It took 20 years for the nightmares to lessen.”
WE WILL NEVER FORGET
PHOTO OF JAMES SCOTT
This is Jim Thorpe. Look closely at the photo, you can see that he’s wearing different socks and shoes. This wasn’t a fashion statement. It was the 1912 Olympics, and Jim, an American Indian from Oklahoma represented the U.S. in track and field. On the morning of his competitions, his shoes were stolen.
Luckily, Jim ended up finding two shoes in a garbage can. That’s the pair that he’s wearing in the photo. But one of the shoes was too big, so he had to wear an extra sock. Wearing these shoes, Jim won two gold medals that day.
This is a perfect reminder that you don’t have to resign to the excuses that have held you back. So what if life hasn’t been fair? What are you going to do about it today?
Whatever you woke up with this morning; stolen shoes, ill health, failed relationships, failed business, don’t let it stop you from running your race. You can experience more in life if you’ll get over the excuses and get on with living. You can have reasons or you can have results…but you can’t have both.