Independent Voices Wanted!

We are taking SurfaceEarth into a new direction – one we hope will develop into something more expansive and more inclusive at the same time.

In keeping with the rules of our friends here at WordPress, this new direction necessitates we relocate this blog to our new hosting partners at WebYea. We thank our WordPress friends for their support and especially for their help in our move. Our new site is a work-in-progress, but please do let us know what you think. As always, your comments are very much appreciated!

On the new Surface Earth, we hope to cultivate opinions from everyday non-professionals and avant garde journalists across the surface of the earth. Voices not typically found in the mainstream media are especially encouraged to contribute their views on our new site, and by doing so, expand what it means for us all to be an informed citizen of the Earth. Ideally, this will develop into an on-going collaboration and an opportunity for those contributing original thought and opinion to build and enhance their own voice or brand name.

Surface Earth . . . Namaste

Filed under: Blogger, Blogland, Blogroll, News, Thoughts, beginning, blogging

The Christmas that almost wasn’t…

We were standing on the edge of the horizon, funny, but from up here, we looked over the horizon and down. It didn’t need to be that way, we could choose a different perspective, but some of our Earth habits remained. Looking down, we noticed a growing shimmering, a cloud rising and expanding, trying to obscure the view, luckily, we have never needed our eyes to see. That’s not to say we did not use them anyway.

Beneath the cloud, there was a pulsating orb of darkness. Not evil, sadness. The sadness was creeping in all directions, filling the space around it, and beneath and within was a family.

A mother wrung her hands as she looked out the window, practicing her smile. It’s not that she didn’t know how to smile, it had just been a very long time since she could do so without having to perform. We knew this woman, she had been flagged as a child as one that could keep the light. We watched her, it was all we were allowed to do, her forgotten contract was to march through the darkness. We loved her so very much when she looked at the moon and smiled and thanked her, calling her Mamma Moon, when she sang beneath the stars, off key, but singing nevertheless, the same songs over and over again. She would play in the forest, inventing games, not recalling that the games were real. She was lovely to behold, she gave forth a pure light, energy, that could not be dimmed.

The years went on.

You see, part of her contract was to remain true to her heart, despite what might be delivered along the way. We watched her light, it would dim at times, but never dip so low that we were afraid. We needed her light, she was a pinpoint across a map finely drawn long ago.

She was tempted, sorely over the years, to turn her back on those that had closed the doors only to knock again, asking for help. She had bleak moments, we always knew but it became more poingant depending upon what song she sang. When she asked in her songs to be heard, when she sang of the promise, we always knew she was still on track.

One day, the songs ended.

Some of us recalled, from prior lives, that everyone can change. They can paint and stop painting. They can write and stop writing. The only thing they can’t do is love and stop loving because love is never ending. They can only be mistaken with the word.

Christmas neared, the woman’s favorite time of year. She was not very hung up on either the history of Christmas or the present day madness, she loved the love, she loved the very joy of people wanting to do something for one another. Then, it seemed, her threads broke, the ones she had knotted and repaired and reinforced, snapped. She was on the edge of losing her love of Christmas.

We spoke among ourselves, we knew the rules. We could not show her or give her a glimpse of what is. It was horribly frustrating because even a mere glimpse would restore her light upon remembrance. We volleyed back and forth, giving reasons for and against, but we knew, God asked us, please, don’t go against this promise, the promise I gave her, that only she could summon forth the time to remember. If we interfere now, she will not know, if she could have remembered through love.

Filed under: Culture, People, Spirituality, Thoughts , believe, blog, Christmas, Heavan, hope, Humanity, Life, love, story, Writing

Judgment

To judge or not to judge? Is that even an appropriate question?

To judge connotes disregarding the flaws, the weakness, the humanity in others.

To not judge, may suggest, to those struggling to survive, allowing others to take advantage.

Is there a bright line rule?

Is it possible to live in the spirit of pure love, whose necessary components are a lack of judgment and forgiveness?

Filed under: Uncategorized , A better world, Humanity, judgment, love

Children

When I think of the word, children, I feel a warmth of hope and love. My mind’s eye visualizes sunshine, light, meadows of flowers, playgrounds, health and wellness. Sadly, as we all know in so many different ways, the greatest treasure of this Earth, children, do not always get to enjoy what I have described.

There are many, many organizations that help children. Many people silently helping children, whether it is a kind smile, a laugh, anonymous donations. The source of helping children is endless, and in so doing, we help ourselves.

Today, I want to feature one Organization, Hagar

Take some time and look at what they have achieved and the stories there are to be shared, through the misery came hope, courage and amazing, amazing heartfelt action.

Peace.

S.E.

Filed under: Uncategorized , Children, Hagar Organization, help, volunteer

Hot water from the well

Filed under: People, Philosophy, Spirituality, Thoughts , awareness, Collective Consciousness, Consciousness, healing, Humanity, Kindness, Life, love, Spirituality, surface earth, Thoughts, Writing

Precious

Precious, defined conventionally according to Urban Dictionary, in part, as follows:

Something that means more to you than anyone could understand. It’s value and worth can’t be defined and you’d do anything to keep it. Beautiful and delicate.

Now, I understand. Something, someone worth more than can be defined. And that is the courageous young woman protrayed in Sapphire’s novel, Push, and now converted for a major motion picture, “Precious”. Not sure I like the entire definition linked hereto, we here at surface earth don’t like the word “obese”, it seems like a silly definition for those that weigh more than some others.

Regardless, I read the N.Y. Times Magazine article, “The Audacity of Precious“. The article asked if America was ready to hear this story, why, because it is true in many different ways and a large percentage of us walk by with eyes closed? Also, to be noted, a play on President Obama’s “The Audacity of Hope“. (Don’t get us started, at least for the moment, when people, news organizations, refer to our President as “Mr”. Come on, bitter grapes? He holds the highest office, can’t be that hard to address the gentleman as President.).

Is America ready to wake up? That’s what I wonder. I also wonder at my own perpetual sleep. Where was I, when Precious (fictional, but please, so many like her), was battling such odds? Where am I today and where is she?

We can sit and blame, point fingers, watch Fox News and hear supposed intellectuals scream at each other, but what happens as a result? Not much.

Aren’t we all part of the same web, the same consciousness, the same universal heart?

Should not my heart have broken when Precious or a young lady like her character lived through these moments? Should I not have been unable to breath as I was otherwise engaged in my daily living? If so, that would be conscious living, an inability to ignore when others suffer.

I am rambling my friends, but what are we doing? As a society, we should be able to do better at the beginning levels, if we see a child on the outside, jump in. Doesn’t mean we have to have an overreaching arm, it means in our moments involved, we don’t let a child sit in the back, we don’t let other kids in “our group” dis another, we don’t subscribe to it, we don’t breath it, we don’t allow it. In doing so, can’t we weave a safety net and pick up more than we would if our eyes were closed and we sat on our hands?

I had a hard time reading this book, almost put it down several times, but you know what? I struggled with reading the truth, the truth, I was not the one that had to endure living it.

Don’t give me any gods, any religious institutions, any walls or parameters where I can sit and ignore this happens to children who become adults and are ignored by their fellow man. Well not by all, read the book, there are those that ultimately, were not asleep at the wheel, and continue to be awake and pull the load for the rest of us.

May God bless them, and my I someday evolve to have 1/100 of the heart and courage of the young lady portrayed.

Filed under: Uncategorized , Author Sapphire, Humanity, New York Times, Precious, Push, Spirituality

Shattered Glass

I am the glass shattered
On a clear
Winter day
Appearing as ice
On an otherwise
Unbroken surface

I am the dove
Holding her sound
Against
The weight
Of the gray sky

I am the mountain
Beneath the sun
Holding the tendrils
Of winter
To not unleash
My power
Upon the plains

I am the air
You breath
Whether or not
You call me
She

*image credit: Adobe

Filed under: Blogroll, People, Philosophy, Thoughts, blogging , blog, Life, People, Philosophy, Poetry, Thoughts, words

Reads……

Here are two recommended “reads”.

Obviously, the world is chockful of books recommend to read, but today, I want to share two:

1. Half the Sky

Why? Because the book “is”.

How many times do you spend a moment asking what can I do? This book is replete with organizations we can help. The book is a must read, but as you go through, you can see what resonates, and choose what works for you. The only thing we ask is that you don’t think too much and you do jump in and act. Most of the time, we (me) are drawn to these stories because on some level, we know as we get ready for the day, wave at the yellow school bus, pack lunches, have meetings, have lunch, agree as to what is ever so important, there are things on invisible levels that are occurring and because we don’t see them does not mean they don’t exist. Again, jump in, this book provides more than enough avenues for us to help each other.

I reviewed the site for “Half the Sky”, I tried to capture the endorsements, Angelina Jolie, because we like her, despite society’s attempt to bring her down, I mean really, what’s the point? She’s real. George Clooney, and more importantly, sorry George, Greg Mortensen, the author of Three Cups of Tea, the story, the book that has rocked this nation and has made it REQUIRED reading in high schools. Short: the endorsements bear witness to the enormity of what they speak: EQUALITY, RESPECT, KINDNESS, COMPASSION, LOVE.

Is it really so hard to comprehend?

I throw down my hat, I am a litigation attorney in the U.S. that can only tell you this, aside from the ones we protect on humanitarian and civil liberty issues, the rest is garbage, the stuff we should be able to figure out ourselves, peaceably, without the use of middle-people. The day may come though, when enough voices raise, when we don’t need attorneys (including me) and we trust and care for one another.

2. Girl Mary, by Petru Popescu

…because he portrays Mary as a female, as a beating heart, as one heck of a contender.

Filed under: Uncategorized , Angelina Jolie, George Clooney, Girl Mary, Greg Mortenson, Half the Sky, Humanitarian, Petru Popescu, Petru Pospescu]

Choking the Matrix

I think it’s time for a bit of a rambling post.

Let’s take two different and yet somehow related issues:

1. Streaks of misfortune; and
2. Decision to maybe stop reading/watching any mainstream media.

You may ask, as I did, what could these two things possibly have in common? Well, it’s a long meandering discussion, not quite a conclusion.

Let’s say for instance you believe, on what basis doesn’t matter, that the space around us is becoming choked with negativity.

The TV signals, the cable signals, the phone signals, the texting, the twitting tweeters, the emails, the blogs, the constant pouring out of media, media, media and advertisement into the vortex which surrounds. Do we really think it is invisible and without effect?

The signals pass by us when we are awake and asleep, passing geographical boundaries drawn on an ever changing map, passing gender boundaries, cultural and religious boundaries also. Passing over, intersecting, overlapping belief systems centuries old. Yet, we only think of it as communication. (What we can’t see, can’t hurt us, right?)

Yet, as I drive down the street, how do I not know that someone’s email transmission is hurtling straight through me and altering my own energetic path?

Whether we agree or don’t agree as to the form of negative thought, emotions, intent, etc., the reality is, negativity exists. If I hurt, I know it is true, because I feel it. If I am angry, I know it is true, because I feel it. If I am negative, I know it is true because I feel it. Yet, I don’t look for proof of it, I don’t require a statistical analysis, I don’t require to hold it in my hand, because I know it to be true.

So also do I know that the information we send through invisible networks is true. It appears on my t.v., it appears on my phone, it appears on my computer. Where then, is the substance?

Where do the moments of grief, sadness, anger, frustration, loss, negativity, the sum total of the mass of those emotions, reside? Do they all get delivered into the inbox? Does only a fraction of the emotion get delivered and part remain with the sender and the other diffused particles scatter catching others unaware, an unintended and unexpected blue moment? (p.s. never understood why we insult the word blue in such a way).

I think we are choking the air around us. When CNN or FoxNews blares, Alert! Alert! Alert! and then you find it is just another piece on Dave Letterman, you have to wonder, what are we receiving? 1. The intention to create sensation; and 2. the hopes and dreams of the staff that created the piece, bringing in their own liFe stories, needs, desires and frustrations; and 3. a willingness to disregard where else we maybe should be heading as society. That is a short list, but I ask you, where does the essence, the energy, of numbers 1, 2 and 3 land?

If I have a day, when the oven starts to malfunction, the washer broke, the windows are leaking and walls disintegrating and then the microwave inexplicitaly begins to smoke, do I say: 1. hmm, guess they are all at their life expectancy; or 2. I’m receiving some bad energy and need to re-balance? (Do we dare mention buying the microwave, bringing it home, only to find out it is defective? No, let’s just skip that for now.)

At the expense of sounding mad, I’m going with #2. There’s too much bad energy being drawn in.

I believe the air around us is becoming dense, the emotions we are flinging into the invisible realm are starting to reflect back, after all, even if we can’t see it, our words are going somewhere, they are disrupting and altering space on their travels, how can we possibly believe otherwise?

Filed under: Uncategorized , Collective Consciousness, Energy, HUMANTITY, Life, matrix, Thoughts

Zathura & Me

There is a particular scene in the movie, Zathura, that came as close as anything has to my mental wanderings of what it would be like if my soul and my human self were to meet each other in the same moment.

At the end of the film, the “older”, (I say that gently, older compared to an adolescent), male character that has been battling the forces with the children, reaches out and touches the one brother on the shoulder, his younger, shadow self.

I wonder, is that what it would be like? A fun house mirror reflection looking upon itself?

I’m afraid you will have to watch it to see what I mean….(actually, it is a wonderful film, so I take that back, I’m not afraid to recommend that at all.)

Filed under: Uncategorized , film, rambling, soul, thought, wonder, Writing, Zathura