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Make yourself at home. Put your feet up. Grab your favorite beverage and prepare to enjoy the reads.
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Showing posts with label anger. Show all posts
Showing posts with label anger. Show all posts

Friday

Must Cancer Patients Be Positive?

When we come into this world we act out as freely as we want to. As time goes by, we get messages from others that to freely express ourselves is not okay. Whoever said one must be a "good" (insert name of disease here), patient? What the hell is that anyways? If we are "good" does that mean we get to stay on this planet longer?

I know that there is a LOT of rhetoric about "keeping a positive attitude" and not "being negative" will help one to have good health and survival. Oh and don't forget organic vegan lifestyle. If you didn't eat it before how is it going to take over and heal you? Maybe you like that style of food. But, wouldn't a hot fudge sundae be nice?

If it's true that not thinking positive, having a negative attitude, not eating certain foods, then I would have been gone a long time ago, because I was a very "bad" cancer patient.

My inner child was pissed off. I went against the rules every chance I got, kicking and screaming and swearing at nurses (well, some of them deserved it) and telling people out loud that I had the forbidden "C" word and I was going to die.

Whoa! But those doctors were wrong. Maybe I was close to dying (had two Near Death Experiences), but no one can predict your future, really. Not even a doctor.

I was obsessed and talked about the "D" word to whoever I could get to listen. Most would get out of it, but some were cornered and I probably scared them to death. That was a time when the C word or D word was not discussed.

I wrote out my will, I don't know how many times. Well, that is, every time I had a recurrence. I really didn't have much to leave, some books, some artwork, some poems, some favorite things. I wrote it out with pencil and paper from a 3 ring notebook; one time leaving my art to my sis, next time to my brother. There was something cathartic in it for me.

Realizing I didn't want a "funeral", just a "wake", a party maybe, where people would play all my favorite music, (wrote that in the will, too) and I went around making people feel uncomfortable when I told them, "Don't buy flowers for me after I am dead, Give them to me now, so I can appreciate them." What a bad girl I was. I can laugh at it now, but I was pretty indignant back then. Why put hundreds, maybe thousands of flowers on a casket that is put into the ground the day they are arranged? It seemed so selfish to me. Love me now, not when I'm dead!

So, when we come into this world and we are cute little babies, we can get pissed off and scream our heads off and let everybody know just how unhappy we are. And we get away with it. We know what we want and when we want it, like, I want that milk, NOW! and yummy that is really good!! and then we are happy for a while, and then later we are miserable again, or sleepy, or giggly, or sad.... yet free to express whatever we feel. And people love you and care for you and for your feelings.

All I am saying is, I hope you will give yourself the right to feel however you want to feel and don't let anyone else pass judgment on you, and most of all, don't pass judgment on yourself for not being a "good" patient. Be whoever you are!

If it is true that your time on this planet is coming to a close, then why not do what you want? Well, maybe, not use that bludgeon you were thinking of. But, maybe take a stick and beat up the sofa. Listen to the music you want, eat popsicles and pizza or cereal for dinner and pudding for breakfast, wear all mismatched clothes or draw tattoos on your arm or get out your old Barbies and dress Ken in Drag or your old Legos and build castles. And, yes, protect yourself from those who are still stuck in their old ways, if you need to. You have no obligation to keep them in your life. It's your life after all, whatever is left of it, even if it goes long term. Clear out all the things that do not matter to you. It's very freeing to let go.

Take care of that little baby you once were who expressed yourself so freely. And in the meantime grab up all the love you can get for that which is inside you feeling empty and let it fill your heart until it is overflowing. You will be very surprised as the overflow floods those around you, and whether or not you get healed of the disease which might kill you, your heart will be healed with the fullness of love as it grows like a jungle garden. Your love and others intertwined in the leaves healing each other.

Monday

America, the Ugly - Independence Day Rant

Someone I know posted something on Facebook that I found offensive. I was so angry, I posted a very careless sarcastic comment. The statement she posted was:

"We have illegal immigrants who are staying here on a military facility while homeless veterans are outside the gate with no shelter and no food."

My sarcastic comment was: "Yeah just kill those kids and be done with it!"

I steamed and fretted about it for an hour or so. Then, also thought better of my comment, for the sake of the relationship between me and the person who posted, as well as the fact that someone might actually take me literally and agree! Heaven forbid.

So, I went back to the posting. No one else had responded yet. And I then posted the following.

"I'm sorry. That was rude of me. I just get so sick and tired of the hypocrisy of statements like that. Yes, we need to care for our homeless, veterans or otherwise. I go to my local homeless shelter regularly to donate clothing. I hand out money on the street corner. Not much, but a dollar is a dollar.

These children seeking refuge from us are starving, sick and courageous for traveling all that way to seek asylum in our country that has a statue of liberty with a statement on it. “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free.”

Either we are proud Americans willing to stand up for the human rights that we supposedly believe everyone should have or we are hypocrites and believe it is only for US citizens.

Note: I got a little personal here and have changed the name of the person I was addressing.)
How quickly we forget our own history. Griselda, what's the history of your mother's people? How did they get here to the land of the free? Do you know?

I know my own family history going back for generations. We came here for the same reasons those kids are coming here. Did you hear about the one they found dead yesterday?

Do you have friends who were refugees from another country? I do. In fact, the father of my grandchildren came as a child refugee from San Salvador. I have friends who came from Russia as children. They are now grown up and committed American Citizens. I have a young friend who escaped from rape and torture as a child. She now takes care of a little old lady and bicycles 20 miles round trip daily to attend college classes to make a difference in our lives. A dear friend who came to our country served in the military and sacrificed his life during the Viet Nam era. My own son's grandparents came into the U.S. and never applied for citizenship. Does this make all those people unacceptable members of society. I would be very surprised to know others would think that.

I cannot believe how cruel, insensitive and un-christian people are towards these "Illegals". I'm ashamed of our countrymen."

Note: This is the end of my rant. Sometimes I am so ashamed to call myself an American. 

Friday

America, the Ugly - A Rant

Someone I know posted something on Facebook that I found offensive. I was so angry, I posted a very careless sarcastic comment. The statement she posted was:

"We have illegal immigrants who are staying here on a military facility while homeless veterans are outside the gate with no shelter and no food."

My sarcastic comment was: "Yeah just kill those kids and be done with it!" Sadly there are people who might really feel that way!

I steamed and fretted about it for an hour or so. Then, also thought better of my comment, for the sake of the relationship between me and the person who posted, as well as the fact that someone might actually take me literally and take action! Heaven forbid!

So, I went back to the posting. No one else had responded yet. And I then posted the following:

"I'm sorry. That was rude of me. I just get so sick and tired of the hypocrisy of statements like that. Yes, we need to care for our homeless, veterans or otherwise. I go to my local homeless shelter regularly to donate clothing. I hand out money on the street corner. Not much, but a dollar is a dollar.

Photo: Breitbart
These children seeking refuge from us are starving, sick and courageous for traveling all that way to seek asylum in our country that has a statue of liberty with a statement on it. “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free.”

Either we are proud Americans willing to stand up for the human rights that we supposedly believe everyone should have or we are hypocrites and believe it is only for US citizens.

Note: I got a little personal here and have changed the name of the person I was addressing.)

How quickly we forget our own history, my friend. What's the history of your mother's people? How did they get here to the land of the free? Do you know?

I know my own family history going back for generations. We came here in the 1600s for the same reasons those kids are coming here. Did you hear about the one they found dead yesterday?

Do you have friends who were refugees from another country? I do. In fact, the father of my grandchildren came as a child refugee from San Salvador. I have friends who came from Russia as children. They are now grown up and committed American Citizens. I have a young friend who escaped from rape and torture as a child. She now takes care of a little old lady, and bicycles 20 miles round trip daily to attend college classes to make a difference in our lives and hers. A dear friend who came to our country, served in the military and sacrificed his life. Just like those who came before us to America, our own ancestors!

I cannot believe how cruel, insensitive and unchristian people are towards these "Illegals". I'm ashamed of our countrymen."

Note: This is the end of my rant. Sometimes I am so ashamed to call myself an American. 

Wednesday

AUNTIE ANGST

She stood in the grove 
emptying her heart
into the darkness,
crying out to the trees.


Oh, hear me! Help me!
I am your little child,
a crone before my time.
My youth has been stolen from me
betrayed by the revolutions of the earth
My heart beats only acid through my veins.
like cities choked with carbon dioxide.
I am the desolated forests of the summer fires.
Nothing left but ashes.

Yet, the crone limps away
beneath the moon, tottering...
the pain of over-ripe decline
prematurely stabs
like some ancient soldier
hacking at the enemy
with a heavy sword.

She sits, quietly breathing,
ignoring the pain with resolve.



I smile... talk... laugh with others
and no one knows what is gnawing
like some unseen dragon
crunching my bones.
The physical pain is bearable,
even the searing fire in my veins.
But the pain in my outraged spirit
is wailing and ranting across the galaxies
as it hurls itself further out into the cosmos
searching for peace 
and a shred of hope.

~~~~~

Digital art and poem by Elizabeth Munroz

What is fear?


I sense much fear in you. 

Fear is the path to the dark side.

Fear attracts the fearful.
Fear leads to anger.
Anger leads to hate.
Hate leads to suffering
~~~Yoda


Thursday

Redeeming Pain


Deep within
lies a slimy,
pathetic Monster
writhing with pain.

We all know him
His own worst enemy, is he
only conscious of misery,
he cannot see beyond himself.

pain lingers about him,
like so many tangled wires
jumbled in static
giving off fumes

Pain is his cousin
who never goes away
only to be dealt with
in twisted anger

victimized, ostracized,
unreachable, untouchable
unworthy of redemption

he refuses to break through
his self-imposed barriers
believes he is helpless
against the invisible foe

Pain is unacceptable
not a legitimate entity

pain has planted
thorny swords of barbed wire,
prevented easy access
pain wrapped in self loathing
cannot move or grow

tears of self pity,
cover him like unshakable slime,
his fears convincing him
the pain will not desist.

self-flagellated
wounds ooze thickly
He tells himself
"it's all I am meant to be,
just pain"

A most despicable Beast,
unworthy and shamed,
is but one who needs
tender healing, love nonetheless.

Dear Beastie,
I come to you,
my hand outreached to comfort,
yet, you stab me with your lightning bolts,
unwilling as a cowering porcupine.

You can only unleash your pain yourself, I see.
Did you know I was once like you?

By soothing voice, I sing to you.
By soft-coated whispers,
I encourage you to breathe,
and unwind the chains
you have wrapped about yourself.

Hiding in the poppies
locked you further away,
brought increased harm and alarm
No remembrance of who you are.

And so, I calm my pain focused mind,
my aching heart, my stress-filled body
to accommodate your need for undivided attention,
your need for redemption of your false beliefs
to embrace what I once thought was the enemy

Without your spiky Armor,
you appear quite harmless.

With your oozing wounds placated,
your tears dried away,
you are quite a cuddly creature
and purr readily when petted

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Art created by Xavier Rodriguez