holy mother of #%*$Q@)&$)@#&*$, only suitable for adult readers.
Posted on Jun 17th, 2009
by
synonym for light
after posting the following status tonight......
Dawn.... organic popcorn, organic butter, sea salt and a dash of cayenne. daily show, colbert then pay if forward. couch night.
and then proceding to actually watch The Daily Show and Colbert and then going over for a Rachel Maddow fix, I found the following comment from Laurie posted on my Gaia Grapevine.
From Laurie "Shhhhh, don't tell anyone that a Holistic Health Practitioner told you this, but if you stir a box of Junior Mints into that buttered popcorn ... OH BOY, HOWDY! I'm fairly confident it's like dying and going to heaven :)" (3 hours ago)
I replied.... (you can tell it's my voice, uneditted, because of the conspicuous typos and OMG Laurie, I'm sorry, but I'm tremendously bad at keeping small secrets, especially after drinking two mojitos made by Adam with too much spiced rum {ick} and too much lime, but I am polite and drank them both and said, yes thank you when offered another [just being polite, right???!] and initially forgot that you said Shhhh and then, right now, decided you were just kidding anyway.) as I was saying, I replied.....
oh Laurie, I'll tell you a secret---- the only thing you really want from those junior mints is the mint and possibly a dash of something sweet or chocolate. today, mint was delivered in our local, organic box of green things and my husband, who has never been drunk, felt the need to make mojitos, with the mint. we had popcorn and strong mojitos and then I tossed the chewed up mint leaves into the empty buttered popcorn bowls and when I picked them up to put them in the kitchen -- the smell inspired me to.....
continued...... the smell inspired me to, interrupt Rachel Maddow's commentary on Iran and my own commentary on the book Lipstick Jihad and say to my incredibly handsome husband, "close your eyes and smell this", "this" being the smell of buttered popcorn with mashed and moist fresh mint leaves. hahahaha. I thought I was the deceased, inspirational, imagined Chef from the "anyone can cook" fame of the animated film, "Ratatouille". One of my husband's favorites. :) I'm so tickled and nearly giddy to find..
continued... to find you suggesting a sort of mint and buttered popcorn together, this evening, after "discovering" the mix myself tonight. In the book I am reading, "Dreamland" the author talks about ideas floating around and no one's genius belonging to themself, but to anyone, for the doing or saying or writing and then, of course, Otter {Catherine}, has already written a blog on the very subject. I'll go find it and post a link for you. I have a feeling that this is actually the beginning of a very beautiful.....
continued... friendship. :) xoxox ~d
[Adam is now not speaking to me (at least for the next ten minutes) because he wants me to go to bed with him right now and instead I'm typing furiously {giddily and tipsilly} and asking him to remember the name of that damn animated, imaginary Chef {Gusto, thank you Adam} and going to get that link and typing this urgent email dispatch to Siona and Farland and Tink, dahling, and chuckling happily to myself and wondering if I can toss in the further details about how I posted a whole darn lot of the book "Lipstick Jihad" on my blog a few months ago and am looking back for passages in the book that might relate to what Rachel has just been reporting on and ummm, as I'm typing this paragraph I'm wondering how I might fare (fair?) as a woman living in an arranged marriage under Shari'a law (sp?) whose husband wants her to come to bed right now instead of posting an email/blog for her whipsmart grrrlll friends. (and any men/boys who might be inclined to read too)
life is a constant surprise to me lately.
ps. (the funny part of this blog post is over, the rest is very much sobering.) today, I went to the sentencing of a man who pled guilty to attempted sexual assault on a child under 15 years of age. the alleged victim was the peer of my son and the cherished daughter of a friend. a then (when the crime occurred) 12 year old girl who was found on the internet in a chat room by and enticed into meeting this 20 something (at the time of the crime) Iraq War Veteran, who had, according to his own testimony, been the victim of sexual assault as a child himself and who begged, seemingly sincerely to these skeptical eyes and ears, for forgiveness from the victim and her family and community.
while looking for the link to my above mentioned Lipstick Jihad blog, I came across the post with this song (see the last video in the post titled "Breathe" by Anna Nalick) and it seems appropriate for this moment, now, when I feel suddenly sobered by the memory of the moments in that courtroom where our society, our technology, our compassion, our justice system and our humanity all seemed to be on trial and I involuntarily held my breath when the defendent, dressed in a red prison jumpsuit and shackles, already having been convicted by the courts of another state and also the federal courts for similar crimes against similarly young and vulnerable victims, turned to lay his eyes on my young friend and stepped forward to address the judge. I was suddenly the warrior woman, suddenly wrathful and protective and almost, but not completey, unforgiving and destructive. I wanted to step in front of my friends' daughter and push that man away, forever, never to allow him to lay his eyes on this child, or any child, again and at the same time, I had an awareness of the broken child inside of him and the poison of war and isolation and represssed sexuality and talk of good and evil and black and white and right and wrong and boys don't cry or ask for help or admit evil thoughts that may have gotten him into that impossible mind/emotion set in the first place. He said that at one point he prayed to God to take that temptation away, that attraction to child pornography, to children. He said that he would rather die than to continue to harm another in the way that he had once been harmed. And yet he chose to hurt a child, and more than one child. He pled guilty today. He was sentenced today. He will be in US prisons for a minumum of 15 more years (for convictions in two Utah cases, one Federal case and one Colorado case). In a way, his prayer has been answered. He will not have the opportunity to hurt any more children for a long time.
Our childrens' rights to be free of sexual exploitation and, our rights, as women, to be free to choose our own activities, even just our own attire, without being called whore or harlot, seem intricately intertwined with the the rights of voters in Iran to elect their goverment representatives and to protest and dissent, intricately intertwined with the rights of women, in any country, to be educated, to work, to show their faces in public, to travel, even just to the market, without a male chaperone. In some Islamic countries today, the mere sight of a woman's exposed ankle can be considered enough provocation to incite a man's uncontrollable passions, lusts. Not so many years ago, in these United States, it was considered a woman's fault if her husband beat her, even to the point of death.
Women's rights are human rights. Children's rights are human rights. Today in the courtroom I felt that women's rights and children's rights had come far since those days, in this country, from the dark ages of calling a young girl who had been abused at the hands of a man a harlot and telling her it was her own fault, but I felt that we were far from justice yet, in the world and in our own country, and that my compassion for the victim and the convicted was equally inadequate in the face of the harsh realities that each of them have faced in this lifetime.
the microcosm and the macrocosm in world events seem to mirror one another in my mind and in my experience today.
I apologize for ending what was a light and funny beginning of a blog with such a difficult subject, but isn't that what usually happens when people get drunk.... on any substance, be it junkfood, alcohol, drugs or power? it ends in some sobering, painful, too ugly for the light of day reality that we have to look at anyway, yes, in the full light of day, and without another feelgood cocktail?
and I thank gaia for giving me this outlet for my crazy as hamlet thoughts.
~dawn
the song that is speaking to me so loudly this minute......
"life's like an hourglass glued to the table........ no one can find the rewind button now....
if I get it all down on paper it's no longer inside of me, threatening the life it belongs to......
oh oh breathe..... just breathe."
Dawn.... organic popcorn, organic butter, sea salt and a dash of cayenne. daily show, colbert then pay if forward. couch night.
and then proceding to actually watch The Daily Show and Colbert and then going over for a Rachel Maddow fix, I found the following comment from Laurie posted on my Gaia Grapevine.
From Laurie "Shhhhh, don't tell anyone that a Holistic Health Practitioner told you this, but if you stir a box of Junior Mints into that buttered popcorn ... OH BOY, HOWDY! I'm fairly confident it's like dying and going to heaven :)" (3 hours ago)
I replied.... (you can tell it's my voice, uneditted, because of the conspicuous typos and OMG Laurie, I'm sorry, but I'm tremendously bad at keeping small secrets, especially after drinking two mojitos made by Adam with too much spiced rum {ick} and too much lime, but I am polite and drank them both and said, yes thank you when offered another [just being polite, right???!] and initially forgot that you said Shhhh and then, right now, decided you were just kidding anyway.) as I was saying, I replied.....
oh Laurie, I'll tell you a secret---- the only thing you really want from those junior mints is the mint and possibly a dash of something sweet or chocolate. today, mint was delivered in our local, organic box of green things and my husband, who has never been drunk, felt the need to make mojitos, with the mint. we had popcorn and strong mojitos and then I tossed the chewed up mint leaves into the empty buttered popcorn bowls and when I picked them up to put them in the kitchen -- the smell inspired me to.....
continued...... the smell inspired me to, interrupt Rachel Maddow's commentary on Iran and my own commentary on the book Lipstick Jihad and say to my incredibly handsome husband, "close your eyes and smell this", "this" being the smell of buttered popcorn with mashed and moist fresh mint leaves. hahahaha. I thought I was the deceased, inspirational, imagined Chef from the "anyone can cook" fame of the animated film, "Ratatouille". One of my husband's favorites. :) I'm so tickled and nearly giddy to find..
continued... to find you suggesting a sort of mint and buttered popcorn together, this evening, after "discovering" the mix myself tonight. In the book I am reading, "Dreamland" the author talks about ideas floating around and no one's genius belonging to themself, but to anyone, for the doing or saying or writing and then, of course, Otter {Catherine}, has already written a blog on the very subject. I'll go find it and post a link for you. I have a feeling that this is actually the beginning of a very beautiful.....
continued... friendship. :) xoxox ~d
[Adam is now not speaking to me (at least for the next ten minutes) because he wants me to go to bed with him right now and instead I'm typing furiously {giddily and tipsilly} and asking him to remember the name of that damn animated, imaginary Chef {Gusto, thank you Adam} and going to get that link and typing this urgent email dispatch to Siona and Farland and Tink, dahling, and chuckling happily to myself and wondering if I can toss in the further details about how I posted a whole darn lot of the book "Lipstick Jihad" on my blog a few months ago and am looking back for passages in the book that might relate to what Rachel has just been reporting on and ummm, as I'm typing this paragraph I'm wondering how I might fare (fair?) as a woman living in an arranged marriage under Shari'a law (sp?) whose husband wants her to come to bed right now instead of posting an email/blog for her whipsmart grrrlll friends. (and any men/boys who might be inclined to read too)
life is a constant surprise to me lately.
ps. (the funny part of this blog post is over, the rest is very much sobering.) today, I went to the sentencing of a man who pled guilty to attempted sexual assault on a child under 15 years of age. the alleged victim was the peer of my son and the cherished daughter of a friend. a then (when the crime occurred) 12 year old girl who was found on the internet in a chat room by and enticed into meeting this 20 something (at the time of the crime) Iraq War Veteran, who had, according to his own testimony, been the victim of sexual assault as a child himself and who begged, seemingly sincerely to these skeptical eyes and ears, for forgiveness from the victim and her family and community.
while looking for the link to my above mentioned Lipstick Jihad blog, I came across the post with this song (see the last video in the post titled "Breathe" by Anna Nalick) and it seems appropriate for this moment, now, when I feel suddenly sobered by the memory of the moments in that courtroom where our society, our technology, our compassion, our justice system and our humanity all seemed to be on trial and I involuntarily held my breath when the defendent, dressed in a red prison jumpsuit and shackles, already having been convicted by the courts of another state and also the federal courts for similar crimes against similarly young and vulnerable victims, turned to lay his eyes on my young friend and stepped forward to address the judge. I was suddenly the warrior woman, suddenly wrathful and protective and almost, but not completey, unforgiving and destructive. I wanted to step in front of my friends' daughter and push that man away, forever, never to allow him to lay his eyes on this child, or any child, again and at the same time, I had an awareness of the broken child inside of him and the poison of war and isolation and represssed sexuality and talk of good and evil and black and white and right and wrong and boys don't cry or ask for help or admit evil thoughts that may have gotten him into that impossible mind/emotion set in the first place. He said that at one point he prayed to God to take that temptation away, that attraction to child pornography, to children. He said that he would rather die than to continue to harm another in the way that he had once been harmed. And yet he chose to hurt a child, and more than one child. He pled guilty today. He was sentenced today. He will be in US prisons for a minumum of 15 more years (for convictions in two Utah cases, one Federal case and one Colorado case). In a way, his prayer has been answered. He will not have the opportunity to hurt any more children for a long time.
Our childrens' rights to be free of sexual exploitation and, our rights, as women, to be free to choose our own activities, even just our own attire, without being called whore or harlot, seem intricately intertwined with the the rights of voters in Iran to elect their goverment representatives and to protest and dissent, intricately intertwined with the rights of women, in any country, to be educated, to work, to show their faces in public, to travel, even just to the market, without a male chaperone. In some Islamic countries today, the mere sight of a woman's exposed ankle can be considered enough provocation to incite a man's uncontrollable passions, lusts. Not so many years ago, in these United States, it was considered a woman's fault if her husband beat her, even to the point of death.
Women's rights are human rights. Children's rights are human rights. Today in the courtroom I felt that women's rights and children's rights had come far since those days, in this country, from the dark ages of calling a young girl who had been abused at the hands of a man a harlot and telling her it was her own fault, but I felt that we were far from justice yet, in the world and in our own country, and that my compassion for the victim and the convicted was equally inadequate in the face of the harsh realities that each of them have faced in this lifetime.
the microcosm and the macrocosm in world events seem to mirror one another in my mind and in my experience today.
I apologize for ending what was a light and funny beginning of a blog with such a difficult subject, but isn't that what usually happens when people get drunk.... on any substance, be it junkfood, alcohol, drugs or power? it ends in some sobering, painful, too ugly for the light of day reality that we have to look at anyway, yes, in the full light of day, and without another feelgood cocktail?
and I thank gaia for giving me this outlet for my crazy as hamlet thoughts.
~dawn
the song that is speaking to me so loudly this minute......
anna nalick - breathe (acoustic)
"life's like an hourglass glued to the table........ no one can find the rewind button now....
if I get it all down on paper it's no longer inside of me, threatening the life it belongs to......
oh oh breathe..... just breathe."

Help




Dawn, dearest. I am waking up with that kind of a feeling on my bones as well. I am bone-weary of feeling like 'we' the underclass have to somehow convince the 'powers that be' that we are worthy of focus and attention, when said underclass is carrying the Caring Load of Society… that thing that keeps the species going. Talk about messed up priorities, good God! That spoke to the woman in me. Please don't get me started about the next generation or the Child in me… It's incredible we survived this long with this attitude to humans…
Ok, so with that I encourage you to join Wise Women Speak - if for no reason than to ramp up the numbers and to get into a space where we fortify each other for the long haul ahead. That's on Facebook where I found your link here [thanks for posting!].
And today I set about embracing 'Reality as the Norm' instead of playing the game that disrespect of those who give and sustain life to the world is acceptable somehow. It is like throwing gifts back in God's Face, if I may be so bold. [Can't help it lol]
Thank you for letting it go, dear Dawn. You've gone and stimulated my Truth spilling out for today. So I thank you again.
With love and respect and care,
Best, Sherrilene
hi Sherrilene,
it's 3 am and I'm still awake. at this late hour I don't feel in any way wise enough to belong to a group called “wise women speak”. I do appreciate the invitation. I just don't have what it takes at the moment for even any of the groups I already belong to.
I also have a hard time with the word underclass. I just think people should all think of one another as humans and not this class or that class or oppressor or oppressed. part of my point, and maybe I didn't get it across well, is that both the victim and the defendant/convicted person in the courtroom today, were humans. I did have a strong desire to protect one from the other, but my heart saw the victim, also, in the perpetrator. I heard a person describe that man as “evil” and I do think that what he did was terribly, terribly wrong, but I have a very hard time with the word evil. Even our seemingly worst enemies are human, if we stop seeing the humanity in them, perhaps we lose a piece of our own humanity??
I don't know. I'm very tired now. It has been a very long and thought provoking day and I feel such a tremendously deep sorrow for the hurts that we humans inflict upon one another.
Thank you for coming to visit Sherrilene and for taking the time to comment.
Love, respect and care back to you.
~dawn
Hey no judgment. And for certain I share the view that we're all battered in this climate we live in. I used that term because I can't ignore the fact that classes exist and we unintentionally maintain them by putting our attention to specific sets. This impacts on you as a human being in a personal way; it sure does me as a person just attempting to live a good life!
I am an absolute humanitarian and humanist, as people know. I can feel sympathy and empathy for whoever. But I watch as the emphasis remains on bailouts and crap like that and I am just sickened with it. I just decided to express.
And I have had a very good night's sleep, so no excuses for me lol
But anyway, this is just my opinion from my position as a Carer in a dominantly non-caring societal structure.
Off to get some exercise with my dogs.
Bless and be blessed,
Sherrilene
I have a family connection to someone who was abused by her stepfather who was convicted and served a very short (18 mo) sentence for the (sexual) abuse. Just recently heard two stories that made me reflect on this issue and find that I really can't wrap my head around any part of it: there was a television interview about Sean Hornbeck, the boy who was abducted when he was 11 and held captive for almost five years, rescued when his abuser also kidnapped another young boy who got them out. My immediate reaction was that anyone who commits that level of crime against a child should get an immediate do-over, no appeal, better luck next time (I have mentioned before that I could not be trusted with a star trek disruptor gun. Many people would get do-overs.). I do have compassion for the obvious fact that this man (Devlin, Sean's abductor) must have had events in his own life that destroyed his humanity. Doesn't affect my wish for a disruptor gun.
Last week I also heard a story about this boy who was sexted pictures by his girlfriend and because he had turned 18 before she did was convicted on charges of sexual misconduct with a minor. He will be a registered sex offender for the next twenty years of his life. Because his girlfriend, a year or two younger, sent him hot pictures. I feel that I need quite a large disruptor gun to handle the entire court system…
I think the issue that's running through this for me is that there is a difference between the truly ugly things like child pornography, kidnapping, rape, the kinds of things that victimize people, and the fact which our society doesn't like to acknowledge that adolescent humans are genetically primed to be interested in sex. It's our fear about that causes us to ruin the lives of 18 year old boys just because we can. It's why we balk about teaching them about safe smart sex and fun sex, or about replacing soda machines with ones that dispense condoms in our schools because hey, soda is good for you, right? It feels to me that our huge discomfort as a culture around sexuality and especially around the sexuality of adolescents fuels both sides of the issue, leads us to behave really badly toward sexually active adolescents when we should be helping them out with information and support and joy and clarity - and leads sick, twisted adults to obsess about children at least in part because it's so taboo to acknowledge that they experience sexuality at all even though their hormones are raging like they never will again, and in part because the repression itself makes it a hot button. (I do realize that might be the world's longest run on sentence, sorry.) I often fantasize about living in a culture that did not have it's head quite so far up it's frightened, denial-prone, judgmental ass. But alas. I live here and now.
On another note, I love a good Mojito. The only other thing I love with mint is the way it's used in Indian food, mmmm. I'm hoping that some Indian food is going to be involved with my son's wedding which we're going to this weekend (since The Bride is Indian on mom's side and is having a Mehndi party on Friday night) and I hope that they're having wild, crazy, smart, playful, uninhibited sex as often as they can…I told Adrian that it was going to be so great that now they can have sex and because he's funny and adorable and generally just cool, he said, yes, we can finally move the beds together. I'm so happy for him and them.
Maybe they'll even have some Mojitos at the party…
Tink, I love you. And I love a fine Mojito myself. First tried them in Cuba where the hiding from reality persists and insists also.
Pardon me for not feeling to play-act anymore!
It's insulting to a thinking human being. It has been for some time.
Blessings and prayers for some reality. Thanks. Sherri
For starters … I can't begin to imagine how any of you can think coherently in the wee hours of the morning! I would fall asleep mid-sentence (mojito induced, or not). Now on to two totally different subjects:
MINT
I love it any way I can get it! I run a diffuser in my office that has a synergetic blend of lavender, grapefruit and spearmint essential oils. It keeps my head clear and energy high.
SEXUAL ABUSE
Under most circumstances I am sweet, loving, kind and thoughtful.
Under most circumstances I am clear, concise and articulate.
Under most circumstances I exercise benefit of the doubt.
Under most circumstances I use heart-based judgment, am rational and level-headed.
However … when children, elderly people or animals are used in cruel ways, all bets are off! I, too, could not be trusted with a disruptor gun.
It's 8:30 in the morning, my feelings are all over the place after this,so I've got my nose about a centimetre from my coffee,smell so often works in bringing me close to that place where all seems o.k.
Otter's post …well amazing comes to mind,and then i thought why am i not leaving a comment on her original post….will think about this for awhile.
Anytime i see a blog from Dawn or a comment from Jeannie well my internal ears/eyes pick up and i have pre-delight,a feeling of delight pre read,wow you both rawk….spelling it this way to keep the rock way for otter's post.
Mint it is used in everything here,esp a salad made with tomatoes and cucumbers and onions and olive oil and lemon…..lemon another smell that I think literally and figuratively gives me a lift,I always straighten up and out with lemon a guaranteed cure for internal and external slouching……I am all over the place,drunk on a cool breeze wafting through the window and the smell of early morning summer in the city.
Popcorn is one of those foods that in order for me not to get a gag reflex must be popped the old fashioned way,I get the microwave popcorn smell induced nausea,which i imagine is just as effective as a shot of ipecac,or charcoal.
child abuse makes me feel nauseated too,and sad beyond words,I mustn't delve too far into these thoughts this morning I feel fragile and totally in the place of no compassion for those people who exploit sexually young children ( seventeen i do not consider a young child esp with the discovery of their sexuality with another person around their age and the discovery is a mix of hormone induced stupidity and charm).
Ages ago we were having a discussion with the psychiatrist on call that evening about this very thing pedophilia and how very few if any pedophiles change this heinous mindset.
The mom in me sits with these icky thoughts at times like if you touch a child,my child i could actually wack you,the heinous side of me comes out and I…well I can see myself doing things that i wouldn't normally think of doing…it goes further than hate……already writing this my heart is beating faster….smell coffee smell coffee
yet as a nurse I have treated patients that we knew had a criminal record for sexually abusing young children,and others for sexual abuse of adults as well….and maybe it's the smell of the hospital but I remained professional and judgement was far far back in my mind,and this,dare i say it compassion was in it's place,not for what they chose to do, or what they are,but i hold on to who we are ,really tightly,it keeps me close to who i am and staves of what i am when I feel myself flowing into anger and fear and hate.
It gets me to thinking about smells as a child how delightful the smell of chocolate is and mint,and raspberries and love,the smell of out mothers hair and our fathers shoulders how it smells like comfort and strength and integrity….how soul changing it must be to smell fear everyday,and hate cuz they have definate smells for me,how hard it must be to come into this world and not be loved and abused and how the most heinous of people came from somewhere and it always seems to be from a place that smells like a nightmare……still?
I wish I had the words to respond as articulately and brilliantly as Jeannie and Laurie and Sherrilene have. I too have a problem with the word evil. I'm not sure if I'll ever reach any inner resolution about it. I know that our culture does repress adolescent sexuality in ways that often seem unnecessary. In public schools it's frowned upon and at my school it is almost never even discussed openly in any sort of teacher-student dialogue, except in the sex ed classes. and then it's all about curtailing desires and burgeoning hormones, never about respecting them and acknowledging them in ways that are honorable and kind to oneself and others. geez. how thoroughly different “society” (and I have problems with that word too. what the hell does it mean?) might be in this country if we did have those sorts of dialogues more frequently. maybe they're happening and I just don't know about them.
Thank you, Dawn, for your insight and energy. I learn so much from you and from what people say in response to you. : )
Lovely Dawn.
Mint and buttered popcorn are going to be code, from now on, for the quirky spirit of the universe.
I struggle so much with stories of sexual abuse, in part because so, so often the perpetrators are themselves abused children, just grown up and in possession of now-powerful bodies and abilities. I do not believe this should exonerate them, of course not, but it hurts my heart to see how those legacies are passed along, and I can't help but think that there must be some sort of broader healing that we can't yet understand–rather than this punitive justice that does little (the bare minimum) for either the abuser or the abused. And I think this impossibly complex interconnectedness (I cannot be free unless all are free) relates so intimately to what you wrote about the rights of us all.
I have been mired in this myself recently, though, or have mired myself in it–that is, the interrelatedness of feminine and masculine power; of responsibility and authority; of microcosm and macrocosm. I think there is something immensely empowering about it.
(And I have to wonder, too, given the holographic theme here, about what it means to the world when your personal microcosim self unspools these luscious drunken thoughts? ;)
Siona -
“I cannot be free unless all are free.”
Your peaceful voice is like a soothing balm. It served to smooth my frayed ends that had managed to come untucked.
it's almost 1pm the next day. I woke up at 9 ish with a terrible headache the same one that I went to sleep with, related, at least a little, to the mojitos last night I'm sure. I read these comments and listened to that song again and cried and cried. as I cried my headache eased.
I need to reread all these comments. I cherish this space for discussion, for sharing of feelings and recipes and thoughts. Sometimes, when I read the comments below a popular blog or news story on a non-Gaia part of the internet, I am overwhelmed by the lack of respectful, thoughtful discourse. Here on Gaia I feel as if you have all held a sacred, safe space for me to be allowed to share my sorrows and joys while offering other perspectives at the same time.
Siona wrote “I can't help but think that there must be some sort of broader healing that we can't yet understand–rather than this punitive justice that does little (the bare minimum) for either the abuser or the abused.”
This space, this discussion, must be part of that broader healing. Breathing is also a part of it.
I appreciate you all so much.
mint and buttered popcorn. ah. this morning it's yerba mate and omelettes made with tons of greens and friendship.
Dawn, where do I begin after such a “rock my world” post as this, and the amazing posts which followed. The only way I can get my head around circumstances like child molestation and genocide is to look at it from a karmic stand-point. On face value, I have the normal gut reaction to people who perpetrate “evil.” I become livid… . heck, I'm from a pretty redneck part of my country, so some of that mentality rubs off. But, when I get over being pissed off, I think, we all have choices. Even if someone has been molested as a child and becomes a pedophile, he (or she) still can choose to witness those desires and NOT act on them. If they do, the Universe keeps score karmically. People have overcome tremendously difficult addictions to heroin, etc. through surrendering to the Wisdom their Greater Spirit.
Whatever thing we crave to fill our emptiness must pass the karmic litmus test. If it harms and diminishes ourselves or another soul - don't go there. If it fills and uplifts us (or others) with love - go there. Period. (some people might argue that that's a subjective point of view - it isn't - we know when we're harming or uplifting ourselves or others - it's only our justifications which can muddy those “moral” waters).
(on a lighter note … mint with popcorn, I shall have to give that a try, as we have a ton of mint growing in our garden … and, as for being pulled away from a Gaia post by an amorous spouse … :-) Dawn, gosh you're wonderful!