Namaste my friend, I greet you

How do I meet you, where you want to be met?

How do I speak to you as you want to be spoken to?

How do I hear you as you want to be heard?

Do I need to anticipate your words and thoughts, before I put my own on the page?

I am struck, today as many days, by who will be our next statistics.

Reading the news, I realize, you are removed from me. Are you the heart, the soul, the courage I call to with these words?

Are you who I write to without knowing as I read stories or hear stories in and on the news, more “numbers”, more “statistics”, God forgive me, you are removed from me.

Because today I am ok.

Today I am here, in a country I love, in a place where I am adored, in a world where the best of all dreams have manifested. To me the best of all dreams is what I inhabit, the love of a select few, so pure; yet, not without its moments of impatience. Within and around this world, I have food, a roof, electricity, I have the ability to pay bills. I have feet, legs that carry me to my car to start my day, I have a career, esteemed some would say, but that is not the pivotal signifigance, the pivotal signifigance is that I have and embody, at least to this day, the wherewithal to carry on.

Who would I be without it?

Where would I be?

And despite this awareness of fortune and luck, I read the news, devour the news, surf for different versions of the same story, wanting, panting over the search, the journey for the truth to figure out how it is any of us could treat each other as if we were not part of the “us”.

Can I see a mother in the news grieving, struggling despite the news to carry on, because really, what else is there to do?

I wonder at the ones we mark as misfits as this global world closes into itself, where will they go? Trapped where they are not wanted and don’t belong; yet, marked from exit? And suppose, just suppose, we are wrong in our adjustment of perception, so much so, that we brand the innocent guilty? Can we live with that?

I know, statistics can meter out that the price of a few innocent lives are worth it to capture the maybe guilty ones…but something deep within my heart cries out, screams and says, suppose, just suppose, it was you or I? or a beloved child that we knew, as well as we can know anything, who was and is good, what then?

I have never spent much time on the depth of literature or biblical studies, not that I don’t have degrees, learning or education, it is simply that my mind seemed to discard that which did not ring true with the collective human heart.

I don’t care. I simply don’t care what the Bible has to say, I think the truth for humanity lives within us and resonates so true and so pure from the most beautiful part of our hearts and souls, that truth of that nature is hard to disavow.

I think our society has succumbed, has bowed itself to the inevitability to evolution on an industrial and technological level. Really, I have no better choice, no better solution, I know not what a better world would be for us, I do know this, we are culpable, day after day, in the moment exiting sleep and upon awakening, that is the breath within which we embrace the best version of who we are and we shrug it off, most of us, and don a suit of clothes, to play charades for the better part of our days.

I do not have the one answer, the one path, the signs or the miracles that point the way.

Sometimes though, what doesn’t work, can point the way.

We spend so much time afraid of each other, who has what, who will do what, that we cannot live.

What would happen if 98 percent of the world chose differently? Chose to have a voice and use that voice and live in whatever best version of the Divine we could embody?

Is it really so far fetched?

Isn’t that truly part of what we search for, this life cycle of questions and answers?

Can’t we just accept there are many things we do not know, but despite that, acknowledge there are things we can agree upon to honor each other?


15 thoughts on “Namaste my friend, I greet you

  1. S.E., you sound like soul who has lost his/her way in life. From where then have you lost your faith? Was it a church? A synagogue? A mosque? Or perhaps from a house built buy a religion de jour. Does it really matter…is it even relevant?

    I was in a taxi in Washington DC on my may to the airport last fall. For reasons I can’t recall, perhaps it was the obvious “foreign sounding” name on the posted license, I was compelled to ask the driver from where he came. “Eritrea” he said. The look on his face was clear – he was astonished I knew where the heck that was (the horn of Africa). I also knew (but did not say) something of the horrible conflict his small nation had with the much larger Ethiopia. During the ride, he shared some insight into his journey that ended in this nation’s capital. I remembered being moved, but in hindsight, it was not that more impressive or trying than most immigrants to this country – including my own family. So here he was, an immigrant …driving me (another immigrant) to the airport, each in our own way working to support our families.

    Stepping into that cab, it was not obvious where this man was from – but his faith was. He carried it like a badge – or perhaps you would have thought it was a burden. His religion was not mine. But the cores of our beliefs, the aspirations of generations of our families were the same. Arriving at Reagan National, I thanked him for sharing his story. We parted; he keeping to his religion and I kept with mine yet we both agreed that, in any language, God is good. Religion however, like politics the world over, is another matter. So S.E., it matters not from which “house” you lost your way. Your words betray you… all is not lost, it’s clear you have not yet lost your way from God.

  2. Namaste my lovely cyber-friend,
    from my heart.

    Yes. We can just accept there are
    many things we don’t know and
    simply agree to honor each other.

    I’m there wholeheartedly.

    We are here on the web, releasing
    our voices, in the effort to
    make a difference.

    That’s the reason I’m here, and
    I know that’s why you’re here

    It is a pleasure to honor others
    that are putting forth the energy
    and effort.

    I’m with you.

  3. (Jumping up and down…) I’m a misfit! I’m a misfit! And it isn’t because I have a red nose..

    It’s because normalcy is sooooo dull.

    Here I was, reading your wonderful post, thinking ‘SE is in Love with Life, recognizing in awe the Gratitude you were radiating… then read the comment. It really threw me for a loop!

    Gee…you sure don’t appear lost to me! Guess I must be blind. Or maybe I’m just lost in the same forest.

    Maybe if we allowed ourselves to ponder it for a bit, we’d realize that there are more of us misfits then there are people who fit into the narrow band of what is accepted? The ‘popular’ thing nowadays is to be a Nerd.

    I know it may surprise some of us but being on the ‘other’ side of normal, is just as distancing socially, as is what is considered ‘sub’normal.

    Among the ‘misfits’ of Society is where I live. And have lived for the past 6 years.

    I live in a small town. A very small town. Tourists passing through call my town a ‘ghetto’.

    Many years ago, this town was bustling. But I didn’t know it then. That was before all the rules descended about logging. No more making mountains bald.

    Now I support stewardship of our resources. I don’t like the looks of bald mountains, either.

    But what happened to this community and the people living in communities just like it, as a result of progressive environmental policy, hasn’t ever been addressed.

    When the economic rug was pulled out from under this community, there was no net to catch anyone. Those that could, left, fleeing to where there were jobs. The rest stayed. The elderly. The very young, with small children to support. The feeble. The retarded. And the incapacitated.

    The community pulled together.

    The sign coming into town says ‘Welcome as you are!’ and here, it’s really meant.

    80% of the people never graduated high school. Their lives used to be based on forestry skills. That’s the kind of education they needed, so that’s what they valued. Chuckers, pullers, hookers…all very demanding jobs. Then there’s living in the remote forests for months at a time. Like the fishermen who fish the Bering Sea stay out for lengths at a time. That’s where one of my frends from here found a job, so he cold support his family. Watch the show ‘Dangerous Catch’ and you’ll see what he does for a living.

    The parents of the kids that are now high school age never had an education nor saw any reasons or benefits from it. They were caught in a world turned upside down and were left on their own to deal with it by the rest of the country. The schools are so poor, they cannot afford to hold any child back, no matter if they know the material or not, because if they did, they’d lose federal funding. So kids are graduating high school that haven’t passed a subject since the 4th grade. Then entering a job market where what most dream of, is a job that pays minimum wage.

    I’ve lived in Oklahoma City. I’ve lived in Houston. I’ve lived in Chicago. And I’ve lived in Pittsburgh. And NEVER before in this lifetime, have I ever lived in a community this loving.

    This Compassionate.

    This Accepting.

    This Tolerant.

    This Understanding.

    And this Genuine.

    They even embraced me, a ‘crazy lady’. I finally found a place I fit in. With the poor, the wretched, the ignorant and the rest of the other misfits, that Society ran over in our mad dash to abstraction and technology.

    I found out what makes us different.

    It’s Self Respect.

    The majority of people in my town don’t have much. No one has ever expressed to them that they are precious. That they are of Worth. That their lives and their dreams matter. No one has ever told them how rare and how valuable, their Virtues, their strengths of Heart are.

    Until I moved here.

    And every day every where I go, I keep sharing how grateful I am to live here, with people like them. I let them know where I’ve lived. I let them know how truly wonderful people everyone is, who lives here.

  4. Where to begin? Where to begin, she asks, wringing her hands, pulling her hair from her head?

    Lost until I’m found, found until I’m lost…TP: have to admit, you threw me for a loop too, but in the end of your profound comment, you too seemed to throw yet another curve ball, I didn’t seem so lost after all, as you yourself recognized, it was clear I was not lost from God.

    Now, I received more than one comment, not all reflected here, questioning T.P. your use of the word “lost”…I spent a long time today in awkward moments thinking what did that mean?

    But I know what it means, I am lost, yet found, as Romancing the Crone pointed out in her pieces of the Goddess of Thunder, we are all and nothing, we are dark and light, we are the radiations of gray where there is no gray at all, we are the seekers and the found, the victims and the prey, the pursued and the pursuers, we are the beginning and the end, we are simply, the cycle. Am I lost? Heck yeah. Without a doubt, I long for the answer, the one, but the more I forage, in the forest as Sue so aptly puts it, the more I lose sight of the forest, and mostly even sight of the trees and see instead the patches of moss, one bug beneath a leaf, one leaf, one vein within the leaf, I see all and nothing.

    I am all and nothing.

    To ask to spend our days here, day after day, believing this is it, suppose I knew no better, and sat on a congested highway and believed that was my destination? I was never to move again but live within that space? But no, I draw on learned experience, at least my learned experience raised in America, to know there is another road, another path, another highway, so long as I am breathing, I will continue to move.

    So where does that leave us? Do I have an unshakable conviction in God?

    I don’t know.

    Would I still be seeking if I did?

    Yet, even as I type these words I know in my bones, in the surges of warmth that radiate and surge out of nowhere coursing through my physical body yet not a part of my body, that God is within that and my mere unknowing does not negate His existence.

    Yes, I did feel to be anything but Catholic for a long stretch of time would land me in an inferno, I’m past that, I think, but all of my energy may not be cleared, at times in this search when I stumble, I may be afraid of facing an unforgiving priest in a darkened cubicle, stumbling through my prayer for forgiveness.

  5. MotherWinterMoon & Sue Ann:

    “Yes!” I say, punching my fist into the air, “namaste.”

    May you both continue on your paths recognizing the commonality, the need for acceptance.

  6. Oh Sue Ann…how I long to live in that town of total acceptance. Starting first with myself, of course. I’m glad you found such a place…and are among people who welcome you just as you are – as we all are – despite all they have to handle in life. Maybe because of it. Some of the most generous people I’ve ever known are ones who have almost nothing in society’s eyes. Once when I was out of work a homeless woman I had become friendly with offered to ask her brother to help me!

    Thank you SurfaceEarth for your thoughtful post – as always.

  7. ((Ronnie Ann)) In my heart I had been longing to live in a place where there was still ‘neighborly’ in neighbor. And we ended up here. ‘Here’, is where King County(Seattle and surounding area) bus all the poor people and homeless found on the streets. Because it costs less to take care of everyone here. Sometimess…ah heck…most of the time, I question who is really poor?

    Tourists come through here in droves on the way to the shores. Come the weekeends and most of the people living in the metro areas can’t wait to get here.

    Then there’s being surrounded by Rainforests. Have to watch out while driving through town. Deer are often seen crossing the streets, coming down from the mountains to drink at the rivers. Then there’s all the salmon you want for free, given out at the reservation every year.

    We lost our puppy once and I know this is going to blow some of us away…Not only did the newspaper put an ad for our lost puppy in for free but, an ‘all points bulletin’ was broadcast throughout the county for all sherrifs and municipality officers in the county to be on the lookouts…,for our puppy.

    First year we were here my children got to ride in a float in the Christmas Parade with real reindeer. Their uncle was Santa on the float.

    And here’s one for the record books…my upstairs neighbor brought over a friend of hers, who let me hold the mammonth tusk that he had recently found while escavating in Alaska. Sitting on my couch holding a tusk from a wooly mammonth. It sure made me feel young!

  8. My heart is warmed by what you write, Sue Ann. Uch…the puppy story brought a tear to my eye! Thanks for sharing this with all of us. A model for what could be if people just let themselves be as they really are deep inside. Namaste.

  9. ((SE))

    Ker thunk…picking myself up off the floor.

    You said Catholic!?



    Thank You. Sincerely, from the depths of my Heart, Thank You.

    I haven’t been so tickled in a long, long time.

    As I read your post I thought of the blogs I had recently written on a very well educated and devote man’s blog, commenting on the Pope’s recent edict. You see, I was raised a cradle Catholic.

    One of the things I know about being raised Catholic, is that we’re not taught to actually read the Bible. Are we? We’re taught The Bible. Not taught to read it for ourselves. Then there’s the fact that the catholic version of The Bible is the St. Joseph’s version, not the King James.

    I’m so old I remember saying the Mass in Latin every Sunday. I took Latin in high school as mu foreign language, so I could understand what I had been saying all those years. BY that time I had already decided I was damned. Because in my Heart I KNEW what I felt. I felt NO love for Jesus. Thought him an idiot. Humanity wasn’t worth it.

    Damed already because of what I knew in my heart and where I may be able to put on a fine face in front of Priests, I wasn’t fooling myself. Not the ‘me’ inside that watched every thing I did and ran an almost constant critique quite a bit similar to Simon Cowle. I jumped in feet first to the study of everything I wasn’t suppose to study.

    I covered every subject of the Occult by the time I was 30. Occult actually means ‘hidden’, by the way. And the most extensive library in the world on the occult, is in the Vatican. I found everything in the ‘occult’ to point me back in the direction of The Bible. So, for the first time in my life, I actually read it. Both versions. Several ‘updated’ versions of each version. All this was happening at a time when the lost scrolls were being published. I read those, too.

    I studied history, so I would understand the perspective of the days, the symbolisms and taboos. I was on a trail tracing ideas. I went to find the root of the Damnit tree. The one that kept producing the dam berries that were constantly splattering on everyone.

    “Mea copa, mea copa, mea maxima copa.” Through my fault, through my fault, my most grievious fault.

    “Even though I Am unworthy, I ask to receive.”

    What I commented about the Pope’s statement was that it expressed Bias, Prejudice, Partiality and Arrogance in the form of ideas of superiority and said

    This is not what Christ would say.

    I also said that in accord with the Nicean Creed, the very foundation of the Catholic Faith, an Absolute is an Absolute. The very first fealty sworn by every Catholic is to an Absolute. There is only One God and this God is All. Then I expressed that thiese attitudes of bias were a nullification of the concept of an Absolute.

    “Can’t be All That Is, Was and Ever Will Be” and NOT be anything and everything. It doesn’t make any sense an ‘always’ that’s not.

    I said I couldn’t very well sell the idea I carried and served the Lily while I was cramming crowns of thorns on my head and everybody else’s I could at the same time. It would be lacking in Integrity.

    I called the Pope an empty vessel, that obviously worshipped a lessor God then Christ.

    And the ‘argument’ I used was completely sound.

    I don’t accept a person who expresses none of the substance of character, none of the qualities of character OF Christ, as any sort of representative of Christ. The Pope may calim he beliees in the ‘Brotherhood of Christ’ but he certainly isn’t a member of it.

    Always embraces all ways.

    Take the ‘negative’ charge off all our experiences. Every single one of us. And see in PURE experience, how very rich we have always been.

    Mea copa…yes, I did it! I claim response ability. I AM Alive! Every moment is a Present! Whether happy or sad. All of us are Gifted!

    Guilt and Forgiveness are mutually exclusive concepts. A Mind filled with Guilt is a heart that has known no Forgivness. ‘Evil’ can’t be corrected but lunacy can. Why do you imagine I introduce myself as a Complete Idiot? I am made perfect by and through my imperfections.

    You may be interested in these in particular on my blog. ‘The Language of God’; it isn;t as you might imagine. Neither is ‘Understanding’ and ‘Knowing’. I’m practicing in how many different ways I can keep saying the same thing.

    Always embraces all ways.

    You many find that instead of ‘disillusioned’, you’ve been ‘enlightened’. One is a more loving self imagine then the other. It’s a free choice.

    I take you back to ‘the stations of the cross’. One of the steps along the way is ‘renunciation’. The church’s mass has hidden much veiled in symbolism.


  10. Is that called restore or destroy?

    Did I compete with cathothicism or did I act in cooperation with it?

  11. You have given us much to think about as you think through these thoughts. We are truly all connected, however the trick is that very few accept this and there in lies the large percentage of the woes of the world.

  12. ((tobeme)) You’re absolutely correct! But there is a key…

    the moment we look within our Hearts, is the moment we find our common ground.

  13. (((Ronnie)))

    (((Sue Ann)))




    I am upon the ground, unwilling to get up because I like the view.

    I want to write pages about this, how I feel, what questions and answers it causes me, all of these comments, sharing of moments, lifetimes…the search is on, though, isn’t it?

    The Search is on.

    Namaste my friends. I need to sit with your words.

  14. Oh my…I didn’t expect such verbose replies. In hindsight, I should have expected as much. As my namesake learned over two centuries ago, a few simple words can indeed ignite a revolution although I assure you all that was not my intention. Mea cupa, mea cupa, mea maxima cupa – yes, I too am old enough to remember services in Latin.

    What I attempted to convey, was the impression I have received – apparently unintentionally – from reading and (most often) enjoying your blog posts. I found many of your words very expressive and insightful, yet somehow often searching for something elusive; an answer; an explanation; the reason for some inexplicable event. Is this not what drove humanity to god? And when the answers were not forthcoming or transparent enough for man and woman, did humanity not invent religion to provide us the answers? And for those lucky or enlightened few who become suspicious of the answers and rigidity received behind the segregating doors of the churches, synagogues and mosques, do they not appear “lost” and in searching of something elusive when they leave?

    Mea cupa…I remember that so well. Back then, women always had their head and forehead covered when attending services. When her father passed, my grandmother, as was expected for women in those days, dressed in black mourning attire (full black veil included) for the remainder of her life. When she and my grandfather passed, my aunt did the same. By any measure, this was not that long ago – the 80’s. It was not far away – the metro area of New York City. If my grandmother were to pass you all on the street today, dressed as she did entirely in black, whispering her prayers …”mea cupa, mea cupa, mea maxima cupa”…what impression would she leave with you all?

  15. Greetings T.P.! Your Grandmother would leave me with the same impression I wrote about in a blog titled ‘Lucy’. Lucy was my Mom, ridden by doubts about her worthiness all her life. I would be Embracing and Compassionate, immediately sending Love from my heart to surround her.

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