Truth vs Dogma

Truth vs Dogma.

Truth vs Dogma

I used to know The Truth.  Truth with a capitol letter walked with the swag of dogma.  Dogma presenting with a snide grin and accompanied by narrow mindedness and insufficient facts that draw a bead on truth but even then might miss the bulls eye as it rips the target.

The eyes of truth tremble in a kaleidoscope and you cannot scope it out.  The vain attempt to get the truth as if you were a reporter.  You give up the search for Upper Case Truth but find that even lower case is an illusive character.  You’ve chased both cases all your life, allowing always for new input, which simply erases or smudges what is known.

Put on your roller skates and follow truth down the sidewalk on his/her gender neutral skateboard.  Soon you are bored with repetition and are jolted awake as Truth leaps a wall and dives into bubbling waters to swim beyond your ken.  You know nothing, the ken of no thing.

No one can know the whole truth and nothing but the truth so help you god and the judge will not even mention your goddess so you’d just best not go to court with this truth issue binding your tongue.

Truth is a perception in a moment.  Moments should hold Truth aloft to praise and admire but you know you would admire truth at your own risk.  You slump down in your chair, admitting this truth search is risky business.  Still you wander out under the fir trees, search under garden rocks and watch sow bugs roll into tight wads of hidden truth you will never figure out.

Out in the open baring your truth-grasping kite  to the wind, or inside with your nose in a book, you do not notice truth laughing at the top of the cedar tree.  Only the wind or full moon light will tell you that trees are truth keepers, silently rooting and listening to whispering breezes and drumming rains.

Should the truth rain down, you’d probably pop up an umbrella and then filter it for contamination and still you will only find a nugget of its essence which might be sufficient for some but never enough for you.

When it comes to you, this moment of truth, true knowing, will you be aware?  Some day you may hold a handful of truth and toss it aside, thinking it is grime.  You will wash your hands of truth.

Drop your dogma in the garbage disposal and polish your trifocals because truth might be just around the next corner.

“Flowers for Algernon”

Flowers for Algernon, the novel first published in 1966 by Daniel Keyes, is one of my all time favorites.  A brilliant commentary on intelligence, assumptions, social expectations, science and how society deals with different ethical and moral challenges.  I hesitated to see the movie “Charly”*, based on the book.  Few movies can ever exceed the written word.  So, I wondered what it would look like in the theatre with more restrictions but also more intimacy than film.

Last night we went to see Flowers for Algernon staged by Bellingham Theatre Guild.  Clever staging with few props allowed the audience to see Charlie* evolve from a happy person with low intelligence to a post surgical man with ever increasing intelligence unable to fit into any social situation. 

Lucas Naylor’s portrayal of Charlie Gordon deserves a standing ovation.  His speech and body language mirror Charlie’s IQ with remarkable credibility.  This was basically a one man show with minor support characters.  We hear Charlie Gordon’s shift in consciousness through a series of progress reports, initiated after he agrees to experimental surgery based on lab experiments with rats; the successful and now intelligent rat being Algernon.

The relevance of this work today is striking with the rise of Alzheimer’s disease and how we react to the loss of intelligence and the ability to cope in the world.

I was surprised to read that the book has been banned from libraries in both the United States and Canada and pleased to know that it is taught in schools worldwide. 

Bravo to community theatre for taking on this controversial subject matter.  That’s what theatre is all about. 

 

*The book spelling is “Charlie” and the movie “Charly.”

 

 

Impulse Buying

I have a list scrawled on the back of a business card.  JoAnn’s to buy bags to put books in when I sell them tomorrow.  Not just any old books.  THE book.  My novel just published under the cover title “Catching My Breath.”  Authors & Artists Afternoon, my first publicity event, at the Barn in Sudden Valley.  If it’s raining I want to put the book in a bag.  I buy bags plus two and a half yards of glorious glittery fabric for a belly dancing veil.  OK.  That was on impulse.

Then I go to Goodwill and buy pants to wear tomorrow.  They’re brand new and will look good with my new shoes which I pick up at the next stop at the Shoe Repair Shop in the mall.  New shoes never just come home and go dancing.  First we stop and drop off the right shoe because my right leg is an inch shorter than the left.  I get the right one built up.  No impulse buying.  (I’m not a mall shopper and scurry in and out.)

Then to the Country Store, you know the one down there on Meridian and Birchwood?  For cat food.  Hamilton is quite picky about what he eats.  Well, let’s just say he won’t eat most canned cat food and I’ve found one he can tolerate.  Between my car and the cat food aisle is temptation.  Shelves and shelves of plants!  Wonderful bushes, fabulous trees and amazing prices.

I forget I have a cat.  I sniff and touch and peruse the herbs and annuals, wander among rhodies and dogwood, admire Japanese maples and …wait a minute, did I say dogwood?  Really?  I backtrack.  No label.  A young man comes to help as soon as I look confounded.  He calls in the horticultural expert.  She confirms it is a dogwood and that it is indeed sixteen bucks.  For a very healthy large specimen.  Of course I buy it.  Plus three viburnum.  At such a great price I can’t even tell you.  You wouldn’t believe me. 

All of this qualifies for IMPULSE buying.  But it’s for the garden.  That’s how I garden.  I’ve spent winters planning gardens.  Now, I create in the moment and the result is playful and wonder-filled.  And definitely impulsive.

The “real” impulse comes at the check out counter.  I see a display of ladybugs.  Little red net packages.  Really?  I haven’t bought ladybugs in years.  I pick it up, peering to see if they’re actually alive and moving.  Yes.  They look sleepy but eager to come home with me.  I buy a thousand ladybugs.

They tickle my fingers as I release them to the aphids and other fine tasty morsels in my garden.  Too bad they don’t like slugs.  I text Michael…just by speaking.  I’ve just learned to use this aspect of my smart phone, which will probably always be smarter than I am.  I press a  little microphone symbol and speak words that are perfectly spelled.  Even “sluggo”.

That’s my impulse of the week.  What do you impulse buy?

Oh, yes.  I did remember to buy cat food.

World Tai Chi & Qigong Day 2012

Robins bounce along the grass.  Ravens call in the chi.  Sun shines, though heavy clouds lurk over Mt. Stewart. Ducks jabber amid the reeds along the lake.

This is the fourth year that Sudden Valley Tai Chi will participate in the worldwide event.  John usually brings the big gong to start but he is worldwide now.  I bring my new black Rin Gong Bowl.  Everyone gathered takes a turn feeling the energy of sound.

Pam begins with Eight Pieces of Brocade.  I lead us in Tai Chi 24.  Yoko joins me to lead Tai Chi 37 and 108.  We end with the Qigong Standing Like A Tree and then the Qigong closing.   And the sun still shines.  For the last three years on this day, we have practiced in the rain.

Potluck with this group is a feast as usual. 

One breath flowing worldwide, one ancient art form serving humanity to bring harmony and inner peace.  May it be so.

What’s it all about…?

If you check Fondis a map, you might find Fondis, Colorado, but you still won’t find the town that is the setting for “Catching My Breath.”

Three authors write about three women, each struck with tragedy, and each finding a solution to rise above the victim role and find her place in the world.

In “Transformations” author Joanne McLain tells Gwyneth’s story, a woman who’s husband and child are killed and how she survives the bottomless pit of despair. Her helpers seem magical. The language is lyrical.

C.J. Prince, author of “Canvas Angels”,  introduces Dannah Davidson, a struggling artist raped by her ex husband. Dannah dreams of angels and paints them but she doesn’t believe in them or the tarot cards her friends read when trying to help her. However, it is with the help of her friends who guide her that Dannah learns to stand on her own two feet, making wise decisions and finding her way out of the abyss of nightmares.
In “My Brother’s Keeper”, William Thomas tells the story of teenage Lisa who lurks in the shadow of her football star older brother in the high plains town of Fondis, Colorado. If she reveals the damning secret that binds them together, will anyone believe her? Lisa does find her way despite the pain of her situation.

 All three stories are woven together by location and can be found at Amazon.com under the title “Catching My Breath.”

S L O W D O W N

The illusion of speed and synchronicity and overlap with no time to breathe.  The computer knows best.  How often do you say that?  Never?  Umm hmmm.

But it is the computer now that stills me even as the sweet G# tone of the Japanese Rin Gong Bowl drifts past my ears.  The vibration of speed makes it impossible to meditate.  Life itself is the meditation.  Remembering to breathe into it, flow, embrace, observe, accept.  The tone continues reminding me not to be riled.

I’m reading the poetry of Emily Dickinson and “Jane Eyre” in my spare moments, writing mostly promo for the publication of “Catching My Breath”, the novel finally published and the blink of my eye when it went from Albatross to Hummingbird.  Time warp.  The business cards with the cover art arrive days before expected.  Amazon lists the book a week prior to that anticipated. 

I’m not even excited; just baby-stepping along in the rain and doing what comes next because it flies in my face.  Oh, yes, notice that.  Oh, yes, a press release is a good idea.  Oh, and sign up to read at Village Books and send out emails and …..

And the cat continues to disassemble the house and sleeps on the computer and purrs his magic into my belly so I know the promise of contentment.  Yes to this day as the laundry rumbles in the dryer and hyacinth fall down, rain drenched.  The organic produce driver stops to take a photo of my flower garden and it is barely abundant.  Maybe he takes a photo of the NO COAL protest sign…or the Kwan Yin.  The flowers continue to droop and do not resent the statues collecting moss.

This day be well and joyful…just for this moment.

Blessings brighter than the sun, sweeter than the moon, embracing as the call of owl at midnight.