Tag Archives: spirit

The Conquering Spirit

Air, Fire, Water, Earth, and Spirit

Air, Fire, Water, Earth, and Spirit

I heard the winds of petitioning change howling ‘cross my floor

With courage bound beneath my wings, I opened up my door

The zephyr stole the tendril rooted as a graft for something more

Then whispered inspirations of hope to lift me up to soar

The torch of passion lit a match within my questing flame

to engulf the hearts of lovers true so they would know my name

The fuel that sparked me from the hearth that offered me fair game

has rallied blazing scars of power, on which to stake my claim

I felt the waves of transitional change sprinkling on my skin

The enterprise crashed over me, before I knew to swim

The tidal pools they pull me down beneath the spiraling spin

But the riptide it allows me surf; to shore it brings me in

My feet were planted firmly down beneath the molding clay

which were planted in the sanctioned soil that sent me on my way

The rocks beneath my nomadic feet gather no moss today

The earthen field I stand upon gives gardens of rosy bouquets

I can’t but I can

I can’t tell you where to find your peace of mind

or to hear the voice of the Universe coursing with power

or to notice the song of the world’s orchestra as it plays

or even to taste the brisk of sharpened words.

I can’t show you the color of your balanced spirit

or tell you the tale of your sacred birth

or cherish the moment of truth you witnessed

or embrace the love you so rightfully deserve

I can’t marry you to your passion for life

or point you in the direction most profound

or take away anything you’ve learned

or dictate your growth rate in any form

Loving you Always

Loving you Always

What I can do is:

hug you

reassure you

encourage you

believe in you

support you

hear you

see you

love you

17,167.4 days

That’s a lot of days to walk around the sun. 47 years for the math challenged (Dude, really, I used Google instead of using a damn calculator!) As I read through the Facebook reminders about my trip, I see many kind words and good wishes. I really love that. It reminds me that I made it around again trying to outshine the stars.

What I’ve come to love the most is when I get feedback from the people I frequently deal with that shows me how I am perceived by others. I know it sounds flippant to say it doesn’t matter, it does but it doesn’t. However, it does give me a valid self check about what I’m doing that not only feeds my spirit but helps others along the way. I truly feel blessed.

Inspiring

When I think of my personal definition of inspiring, I think of the people who teach me more things about the kind of person I want to keep working towards becoming. I wrote several times yesterday that I was inspired by the greatness of my Grandfather, aka Bapa, either directly or indirectly through his children, my aunts and uncles. When I apply the word to myself, I’m not really sure how that works. I do things to make the world a better place because I was taught that. I stand up and defend those who can’t because I was taught that. I love with all I have because I was taught that. Nearly all of that came from the Coleman side of the family. The rest I had to learn on my own.

To think of inspiring others from my life, I think of all the horrors I’ve seen. I think of all the struggles I’ve met and overcome. I ponder the battles I’ve had to fight in order to make it as far as I’ve come and I can see where that would shine the light for others too. I’m blessed to still be here. I’m blessed to know you too.

Laughter

If there is one thing without a doubt that could be said about me is that I love to laugh. I love to laugh so much that I commonly laugh at my own jokes or the absurdities that I come into with each new adventure. I love puns. I think farts are amusing. I love spoonerisms, knock knock jokes, high and low brow humor. George Carlin was one of my very favorites because he was a thinking man (Nothing sexier in my book). I love Ellen DeGeneres because she’s brave and incredibly witty. Robin Williams was a man I identified with so deeply, I seriously, all jokes aside, mourned for weeks. I knew when his light went out.

I’d rather be the butt of a joke than to let an opportunity slip by that held the potential to make my sides ache, my eyes leak, and snorts to come flying out of my nose. I love to tell funny stories because when I can make people laugh, there is nothing more satisfying than knowing I touched them in such a primitive way because I know for a fact we all laugh in the same language.

Being You

This one rather tugs at me a bit. I asked several people what exactly this means. I hear, “Mare, just keep being you.” “I love that you’re so you.” “You keep doing what you’re doing.” And there I am screaming at them with a blank look on my face, “Who the fuck else would I be other than maybe a wealthier version of me. I could handle that.” I tried for years to be someone else. I WANTED to be anyone else but me. One day, I woke up and said, “I’m going to chuck it in the fuck it bucket.”

I say what I want as politely as is necessary, sometimes to the point of being brutally honest, but I won’t lie to you. I try love and compassion first because those work best in nearly every situation. But, I also will not allow anyone to walk on me. Four of my favorite quotes are, “Nobody can make you feel inferior without your permission.” Eleanor Roosevelt; “Be the change you wish to see in the world.” Gandhi; “Be yourself. Everyone else is already taken.” Oscar Wilde; and “Be pilgrims for justice and fools for love.” Rev. Jake Morrill’s Sunday service closing.

Hugs

Hugs. Hugs! Hugs? Human contact is so crucial to our survival that babies who are not touched, hugged, or cuddled enough are commonly considered infants with a failure to thrive. It’s the cruelest form of neglect I can think of when it’s one of the easiest things to give. A simple hug to reassure another human or creature that they are not alone in this world. I warm, compassionate, loving moment that gives them a place of safe haven if only for the time of the hug. It’s a transcendent feeling for me when I am allowed access into someone’s personal bubble to give them love. It makes my eyes well up with tears to think of the beauty I find when I’m granted that permission. I love hugs. We should hug more often.

Light

I’m told that I bring light. When I was born my mother knew something I didn’t. My birth name is sealed away but I will confess to you that name out of reasonable disclosure. My name was Helen Elaine. I was named for two very important people in my mother’s life that brought her light. Both names have the same meaning of Light. I kid you not.

I changed my name legally in 1996, after my Gram passed away, to Marilyn. Nobody ever calls me that. I’ve always been called Mare since I disclosed my desire. My birth name always felt like someone else’s shoes. It didn’t fit me. It was an unruly unfashionable clunker of a name that hid far more darkness than a name should. I didn’t change it out of spite. I changed it out of self-preservation.

With the advent of Mare Martell (Martell is my birth name and although I abhor the man who handed it down, he will not win. I will honor COLEMAN under the banner), I was given rare opportunity to reinvent myself. Only, it’s not rare. Anyone can choose to bring the light. Anyone can shine but most choose not to. They let people like me do it and I’m okay with that. I’ll bring my light from my darkness. Mare, yes I’m speaking third person, can be anyone I need her to be. THAT is my light. She’s a brilliant chameleon and I love her dearly.

And that is my summation of my 17, 167.4 days around the sun. Thank you for making it through. Love, Light, Blessings of Peace,

Mare Martell

These Are My People: Theresa Wiseman

A beautiful spirit cloaked in kindness.

A beautiful spirit cloaked in kindness.

There is a legend from the ancient fires

That when a body dies, the soul does not expire

But it continues through the ages, grace upon graces

Changing its location, wearing different faces

When two souls their paths abide

Return to gather in eras of needed tribes

The powers that be return them there

So they may uplift, gather in prayer

That they may break bread and commune together

Hold the umbrellas through storms and sunny weather

And sometimes it’s seen as a gracious boon

That one knows the other never too soon

They see the smile, the movement in grace

They feel the love returning from their own face

The one from where the legend of ancient fires sprung

And they know that the cycle has once again begun.

Walkers of the Sky

The Force was strong.

The Force was strong.

The pitch of cloudy moonless nights are harrowing

Despite the switch-back trail chosen to navigate

Maneuvering childish thoughts jagged and narrowing

You said, “Bring the child back home.”

The misty breathy wisdom cites a frightened wraith

With parental patient guidance blessed wisdom

Exhuming trust, from brittle bones, from a wild-haired waif

You said, “Return the child back home.”

With coward’s yellow pungent stench un-protecting

Winter’s breath of springing fallen truths disarming

The summer child sees comfort’s spirit connecting.

You whispered, “You’re safe. Come home.”

Don’t catch “The Gay!”

I fully support LGBT (Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender) rights as both active participants in society and as human beings. I support their right to marry whom they love. I support their fights against discrimination.

I come to you as a human being. I am not a perfect person, nor do I profess to be. I struggle to keep my judgment in check. It’s so easy to point fingers and call one another hypocrites. It’s easy to look at someone and tell them they are wrong. It’s easy to reflect on my own life and color pretty shades of happy all over the pages I messed up by my poor choices. But what is even easier, it seems, is to do so in the name of religious intolerance.

I have seen on my Facebook feed posts about intolerance and injustices of the world. I see people hating others because of their sexual orientation. I see people hating because of the color of skin (Yes, even now.) I see people tearing down the President. I witness people spewing hateful messages because of gender. I see people calling each other names so vile that they taste bitter to speak them aloud. I see people projecting their own beliefs out into the world whether they are hateful or not, most commonly under the guise of religion.

In my belief system, the Lord and Lady in their duality are everywhere. They hang in the trees, they breathe the wind, they flow in riverbeds, they dance among the stars. The sense of serenity that I feel when I am out in nature is as good for me as a guided meditation or deep contemplative prayer. While I pray, I’m reminded constantly that happiness, tolerance, kindness, and especially love are my ways to finding my peace of mind, heart and soul. To achieve balance in both male and female aspects of myself, I need to be immersed in the joy of life. I need to be tolerant of other’s beliefs.

There are laws in my faith as well. One of our most important laws is, “Harm none.” That means myself and others. That means leaving nothing but footprints in a forest. That means helping someone who asks for it. That means giving and taking. A harmonious balance between the light and the dark sides of my inner self have to join equally for me to feel whole. To me that means opening my heart to infinite possibilities done in the name of love and harmony. To me, even when I’m sad or feel broken, I know that I need only pray. This allows the love energy to flow freely.

In the Christian faith, Jesus is asked, “What is the greatest commandment in the Law?”

His response, found in Matthew 22:35-41 says, “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’[a] 38 This is the first and greatest commandment. 39 And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’[b] 40 All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.”

The words are deep and profound. In the words of Rev. Linda Looney, “Jesus’ message of inclusivity and love seems very radical. It WAS radical because of the impurity laws of Judaism, the absolutes, the impossibility of keeping every facet of the law. THAT is what we were saved from – the impossible law that was absolutely IMPOSSIBLE to keep, therefore it made people sinners for not keeping the law.”

Jesus didn’t say ‘Love your neighbor unless he is gay.’ or “Love your neighbor as long as they worship the same God.” He said to Love them as yourself. It would seem to me that there are a lot of people who can’t stand themselves out there in the world. They’d rather worry about what consenting adults do in their private lives than to feed the third world countries. They’d rather ridicule and spout hatred than to follow God’s command through His Son Jesus Christ.

This has caused me many years of contemplation. When I began to love myself, I realized that people around me are struggling with the same stuff I do every day. Just like a gay man or a lesbian or a straight person, I worry about bills, kids, schools, work, chores, etc. Just like a Christian, I pray for peace and love to rule the world instead of anger and viciousness. What face do I perceive when I pray? I see the face of the Goddess. I see the face of God. I feel the balance as if everything I ask for will be so. Not like a magic wish factory, but as in peace of mind. I don’t feel alone any more. I feel comfort from my day to day life from Father and Mother God/dess. I feel love for all creatures great and small.

I’ve heard people say to me, because I speak my mind, “Well, I’m a Christian and you aren’t.” As if that’s reason enough to reject another human. I say to them, “Well if you were such a Christian, why aren’t you living the life of Christ?” Jesus was all about loving one another. He loved his disciples so much (and they him) that they walked around all over the place teaching together. Why aren’t we more like that? It seems that Christ’s lessons are used only when it is convenient.

Jesus says, ALL your heart, ALL your soul, ALL your mind. If that commandment, the one Jesus says is the most important, is to be honored, how can there be any room for intolerance? How can there be room for God when the heart is filled with such hate towards my fellow man? How can I be truthful to my spirit when I’m unwilling to follow His lessons and commands?

In 1 John 4:8 it says: “Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love.” It is my interpretation that if God is love then wasting time with anger and hate towards the LGBT Community takes away from the glory of God. It takes away the potency of His words. It degrades and defiles Jesus by not following His instructions to love one another.

What love is capable of can be found in the story of my mother and myself. For years I held on to anger that I felt towards my mother. I was certain that she was the single-most horrid mother in history. I painted a horrible picture of her. Although some of it may have been true, it was only in my perception that was true.

My mother and I were estranged for 17 long years. We didn’t start speaking until about two years ago. During the course of our conversations, I came to a deeper understanding of our relationship. On her 65th birthday, together we burned a venomous letter that I had written that had, in part, caused the distance between us. As that letter burned in the bucket, I looked at her face. I saw my face 20 years from now. I saw my own blood flowing through her veins. I saw hope and love. I’d been so quick to toss blame. We’d soiled something that shouldn’t have been an issue had we followed the lessons we were taught.

The sense of peace, hope, love, and respect that I feel for her is stronger than it has ever been. I saw her for the first time as a human being, just like me. I saw her with kindness in my heart rather than anger. I was able to take the lessons I’ve learned and follow another important lesson that was taught to me at her knee. Jesus taught the lesson about judgment. His words were meant to show that there is a better way to do things.In Matthew 7:2-4 (NIV) 2 For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.

3 “Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? 4 How can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when all the time there is a plank in your own eye?

No matter what I am faced with, I know that if I follow the simple laws of harming no others, of loving one another as I love my Lord and Lady, of holding onto my judgment and letting things be as they are, of offering hope and care wherever it is needed, then I am doing my part. I have been told that I am the most Christian non-Christian. I’m proud of that. I don’t reject the teachings I was brought up with, nor do I reject my fellow human beings despite their age, race, gender, sexual orientation, or any other criteria. As for me and mine, we will bide by the Law of Love, not hatred. I will love my brothers and sisters in spirit no matter what their beliefs or choices. In that way, and with deepest respect for those who object on the grounds of religion, I wish you nothing but peace and love in your hearts.

Peace to you and yours.

A meal with friends

If you're a vegetarian or vegan, that steak is metaphorical.

If you’re a vegetarian or vegan, that steak is metaphorical.

My dear friends,

I invite you to my table where you may not like everything set in front of you, but if you nibble just a bit, perhaps you’ll discover that we like the same things but not spiced quite the same way. I want us to walk away from the table with heavy sighs of satisfaction, not frustration or the silence of an empty plate. I need you to rub your belly then your hands together and eagerly anticipate the next course to come. But first I need to establish some ground rules for this conversation so that we can see each other in a new light, candlelight perhaps with the soft glowing edges and the warmth of good natured humor served like gravy.

My friends, I gather you today to first offer you my hands. I offer you my hands in service because you’ve offered yours to me or to others. I’ve seen the example you set and I wish to embrace your hand with my own. I wish to mimic that which I have learned at your knee. I wish to give to those who have less than I do. I wish to hug those who need comfort. I wish to press my hands against the faces of those I love, you and my neighbors (even when this is far too difficult to do) with gentle caresses of: “I’ve been there too.” “I can help you.” “Let’s do this together.” I will share my hands.

My dear ones, I bring you with me to give a part of my spirit to each of you. I offer you my spirit so that you know you’re not alone. I offer you that place you can put your woes and troubles without having someone try to fix you or the situation. Even though I may try, I know, as you do, that I can only offer support while you learn how to live your life. We all do this. We all try on things our spirit can’t handle and mine has worn many hats. I will shine for you when the night in your heart is so dark and you feel you’ve lost your way. I can be your lighthouse. I can because you’ve asked. I can be your champion because you require it of me. And when you’ve used what you need and what I can give to you, we will continue on our paths, better for the adventure we’ve shared spirit to spirit, step by step. I will give you parts of my spirit.

My beloved ones, I am delighted that you join me at the table of love. I offer you my friendship wearing the face of devotion that love gives me. I do, however, need to remind you that I am, like you, human. I will do my best to give to you the love my heart has for you. Even if I don’t understand, if you come to me with troubled heart, my arms will open to shower you with encouragement because love, to me, does that. It shows me that I am beautiful. It shows me that I am worthy. It shows me that I have more strength than I imagined. It shows me that even with all my lumpy bumpy bits, I am destined to become the best version of me just as you are to become the best version of you. There isn’t a linear timeline to dictate when you will be this mythical you or the fantasy me. Sometimes we are everything we’re meant to be, other times we are striving to gain our footing. I will love you through it because I need/want/have to and I may/may not have regrets about it, but that’s my battle, not yours. I will give you love.

My sisters and brothers, this sounds like a zombie idea, and maybe it is, but I will gift you my intellect. My ideas, ideals, thoughts, knowledge, and wisdom are yours to rifle through like a high-end second-hand sale. My ideas because they may help you stride forward in your world and people don’t forget that. My ideals because Utopia can only occur if we continue to strive for an unobtainable perfection that I see with my Spirit Eyes from the Otherwhere. My thoughts because sometimes they share with me a place that seems wacky, outrageous, and naked as a jay-bird but filled with mischief and delightful daring that presses forward into the mundane world with colorful prances of pretty playgrounds the world is renowned for owning. My knowledge because I read less than I should but more than others. I try hard not to just scratch the surface on things that interest me because it’s when you’ve dug down through the facts and seen both sides of the story that you can figure out the truth in your own mind. You can make your own decisions. I will try to help by maintaining as accurate of a log in my mind to share with you. If I don’t know, I will find the answer or we can seek it together. We can learn from/with one another. My wisdom I also offer because I’ve made a lot of bad decisions that gave me perspective on so many of the defined nouns and yet they are but a drop in the bucket of what this world has available. I query everything and everyone to discover the secrets it/they hold(s) and I’m rarely disappointed. I invite you to share your intellect with me. I will gift you with what treasures my vessel has accumulated so we can fill one another with knowledge.

And if, as I intended at the beginning of our “meal” together, we push back with a burp and smile at one another with a peaceful parting of ways, then that we’ve broken bread together makes my heart happy. I wish for you peace, blessings, and the pursuit of your own bliss, for when we are together in whichever capacity we are kind enough to share, then I know we will both and all be better for it. Please pass on the bread of life sugared and spiced exactly right for you and for me. Peace and light to you my dear friends. I wish you a fond good life.

I See You

Kaleidoscope_13I see you. You are not invisible to me. When I look at you, you wear no clothes. You wear no physical form. There is a ball around your body that lights up when you’re around people you like and dims when you’re not fond of them. The ball has colors and patterns that are spectacularly blended to me. I see you.

You’re a kaleidoscope of vivid colors that ebb and flow depending on how you move the liquid essence that you float in unwittingly. Where there is pain, I see the darkness. Where there is love, I see the light. Where you reside is usually a central color that tells me everything I need to know about you. I am a voyeur of sorts but not the creepy kind. I will not jump from your closet unexpectedly one night. I will meet you on the terms you’ve established. Because I can feel your intent.

I’m sorry if you feel I’ve invaded your privacy. I don’t know how to turn it off. I don’t really don’t want to because it’s served me so well. It’s proven invaluable to me to seek others of the light. It’s proven invaluable to me when I know I can’t trust a person because they are too consumed by material things to know they’re spiritual beings. It’s guided me effectively to incredible experiences through people with knowledge so deeply profound that I sometimes weep with gratefulness while others cause me deep caution.

It’s a feeling of authentic appreciation of identity that can only bloom with the watering of confidence when I see people that fit into their spirits; That “get it”. When I see someone working actively to grow into their spirits, I can forgive almost anything they do because I witness the evolution of color as if a perfect painting were in the works and I get to watch the brushstrokes fall on the canvas. It’s glorious to see. My gift allows me the privilege without effort.

There are also people who are not exactly dark and not exactly light. They are in a flux between worlds. The material world grabs their ankles and wrists tugging them away from their destiny. Their spirit self does a watoosie trying to find footing, trying to fill in the blanks. There are some that stand in this disarray and cry out that they don’t know who they are or that they don’t know what they’re doing. Nobody knows for sure what we’re doing. We just come up with a plan and see how it pans out. If we’re lucky, we have guides to show us the way out. I am one of those guides but I don’t know everything.

It is increasingly difficult when I feel as if I am carrying/dragging them towards the light. They start off saying, “Oh yes! I really want to do something different and I really like your ideas. Let’s go on this journey together.” I comply and we have long talks deep into the night. The kind that feels like it is the most important conversation I’ll ever have. For that moment in time that glimpse into the moonlight or the daylight it truly is. The intensity can’t be matched because it is so relevant. It is crucially real. But they fall back asleep and forget that we’d every spoken the conversation. With some, that shine so brightly but fear themselves, I keep trying to wake them up because I believe they need to be; because they said they wanted to be.

I don’t say anything to people who are dark. I don’t squeal with delight when I see them. Their wounds run far too deep for me to do anything other than shine a light at the end of their tunnel and coax them from sleep if they’re ready. There have been times when words came out of my mouth that weren’t mine but were intended for a particular person. Just like that, it’s as if a small miracle, sometimes large, happens but it isn’t mine. That’s when my light can reach into that dark place and help bring them home to the light where they belong. Those are the people that shoot past me like a rocket grinning from ear to ear on the tides of self-discovery and I cherish each one that finds that place. I do not gift them because it’s already theirs as it is yours. I may just nudge the light a tad to the right so they can see they’re really okay.

But I can’t carry them. I can’t wake them up. I can’t do that. I can’t pick someone up and force them to embrace their colors. It is ALWAYS the individual choices that color their spirits. It is ALWAYS their responsibility. I learned this and other rules of engagement when watching the masterpieces I encounter.

I can’t tell people what color they will become but I can tell them what color I see. The colors don’t have traits as much as they have emotions attached to them. When I see the colors and I really like them, I have to wait. I can’t immediately bond with them because rarely, but it does happen, they are wearing someone else’s colors. Like maybe they had a bad interaction with someone so it clouds their spirit or they’ve just received great news and are wearing that instead of their normal vestments. It’s the wolf in sheep’s clothing that causes me to ease my steps.

The physical being, the way you wish people to see you comes second. When I see someone that matches their physical self with their spirit self, it’s a feeling of home. It’s a feeling of such personal integrity, I think, “YOU! You’re there!” Sometimes it surprises me so much to find an authentic person that I actually say that out loud. There are many people who come close to matching but, it’s like they choose the wrong pair of socks or the wrong shade of happy. It’s just enough off for me to recognize that they’re missing parts of themselves or aren’t aware they are. It is my experience that it’s typically the latter.

The physical being does matter. I don’t wish you to have the wrong impression. I do see it, but not until I’ve peered through the spirit. When I tell someone that they are beautiful, I see them as I’ve described to you. I wish I could paint each person so they could see their beauty too. As if, if I could create them on canvas, they might appreciate their own divinity that seems apparent to me. But instead I’ll follow the advice of my kind Uncle Les who said, “Mare, whatever you do, keep doing it. The world needs more of it.” So it is written, so it is done.

These Are My People: Oshun Avani

http://www.monzeeki.com/ New York, New York Photographer Monzeeki

http://www.monzeeki.com/
New York, New York
Photographer
Monzeeki

Just for today,
I will honor the knees at which I kneel
Taking preservation in wisdom dripped
From oceans of tears and millions of stars.

Just for today,
I will offer my actions without expectation
To those who suffer poverty in all ways
In their bodies, in their actions, in their spirits.

Just for today,
I will be grateful as I prepare my meals
Mindful of the preparation in my hands
Filling plates with sustenance, love, laughter.

Just for today,
I will hold a my tongue from anger
Keeping tolerance at the forefront of my mind
Defending against injustice with a considered heart.

Just for today,
I will hold the brothers and sisters of my spirit tribe
With compassion and kindness in the Light
That guides us to one another in graceful exchange.

These Are My People: Ben Stotler

Yule 2008

Yule 2008

I know that you love me.
I feel it on my skin, in my skin, like my skin
In my spirit, through my spirit, with my spirit;
Snaking its way through my body
Like my breath and blood.
Unashamed to explore the recesses of my reflections
Sorting through my sacred spaces like a wild child on a spending spree.
Moving forward even when encouraged strongly to turn back!
Turn back and don’t look at that pile of filth, of lies, of dastardly deeds
Stacked in the furthest corners that I disguise with masks,
Masks that vulgar people disregard with acceptance.
You refuse my please with tenderness and compassion.
You gently pull back the world I keep hidden beneath my bravado.
You don’t cringe.
You don’t run.
You just coax me from beneath my veil,
Encouraging me to seek the day with a new, braver face.
That which is my own, truly my own.
Because of this trust you’ve established with me
In an agreement of lifelong complexity,
I comply with the oxymoron of trepidational courage.
And this, my love, is how I know without a doubt that you love me.