I am a citizen of a nation of laws. I am a naturalized citizen and as one who came here because of parents who believed that a better and more secure life would be available to their children, I am sympathetic toward all those who sacrifice much and come to the States with the same ideals in mind for their families. I know what courage it takes to leave your life behind to follow a dream. I am sympathetic toward the plight of parents who send their youth to study or work in a country because they believe in a nation that instills a sense of belonging by respecting individuals of all race, sex, color, creed and origin, whether deprived of human dignity or abundantly blessed. My grandparents did it. My parents did it. I did it. Many of you did it.
America is a nation of laws. When the laws (Amendments) were written, there was no law about illegals and there definitely was no question or doubt as to one's allegiance to the country. It was a given. The 14th Amendment makes it clear that a child born in the United States is granted U.S. citizenship except if born to parents who are both foreign, illegal, alien, tourist, etc. I am unsympathetic toward those who do not abide by the law. I am unsympathetic toward those who come to this country, who take for granted the privileges offered them (such as freedom to strike/boycott, to voice their opinion in public forums, to be catered to in their native tongue, to become educated through high school and then college) at the expense of the law abiding citizen. This is a country that shares such and many other privileges with legals (citizens) and aliens (illegals) alike with no questions asked. I am unsympathetic toward those who benefit from these privileges and yet create ruckus and furor over government which is trying to find solutions for its citizens whose rights and privileges are being exploited. I am unsympathetic toward those, regardless of race, color, sex, creed or origin who do not respect the laws of the country that feeds their families, that educates their children, that promotes humanitarian values and tolerates the practice of ones own ethnic and cultural traditions.
I am a citizen of the United States of America. I am sympathetic toward the laws of this nation.
This I humbly speak.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Freedom of Soul
I was rushed. I was driving between errands.
"Why do I have to comply all the time?" asked my Soul. "I am my own spirit. I have my own life. I want to be free."
"You are free," I said, somewhat taken aback by her forwardness.
"No, I'm not. You haven't given me the green light to do whatever I want," she said.
"What do you want?" I asked.
"I want to be free to do whatever I want, if ever I want and whenever I want."
"What's stopping you?" I said over my shoulder.
"You. You're stopping me. You're holding me back. "
"When? When have I held you back? And how am I holding you back?" I was getting defensive. "Don't I always tell you to 'do whatever you want... the opportunities are endless?'" I reminded her, and with a silly grin, I recalled an old nursery rhyme. "Tinker, tailor, soldier, sailor, doctor, dentist, actor, lawyer, rich man, poor man, beggar man, but NO thief." I laughed.
"You know that's not what I'm talking about," she said seriously. "I'm talking about guilt. I'm talking about feeling obligated that I have to comply to make YOU happy. " She was serious. Then she whispered softly, "I don't want to let you down."
My poor Soul. Her gentle spirit was troubled by an inner conflict. It was not so much what she was doing but what she was being that troubled her. I pulled over to the side of the road. This needed my full attention.
"Listen," I said. "Your freedom to be whoever and however it is you want to be...happy, sad, good, bad, weak, strong, caring, uncaring, friendly, distant, cheerful, grumpy, joyful, resentful.... is a choice you make as you develop yourself. Within you is an inalienable right to be free from coercion. I have no doubt that within you is the capacity to reach for the best that's for your own good."
"Yeah, but why do I feel guilty doing something that I know you may not approve?" She was still struggling with her conflicting emotions.
"Guilt is not a bad thing," I said. "Guilt is a learned response. It is the scale that measures your conscience against what you have been taught as 'should' or 'should not' do. If used as just that, guilt is not a bad thing. But more importantly, there is no should or should not. There is only your freedom to choose."
"And you, what about you? Do I ignore you completely if I am free?"
"If you choose to, you can. I am only the provider of tools with which you can seek your journey, have your conversations and ask all your questions in pursuit of your happiness. My joy is in your freedom. I am here to protect that freedom and 'enforce' the laws that will guard it. "
"You know, you're preachy," she said, very matter-of-fact.
"You had it coming," I said.
My Soul. She is of me and through me, yet she's entirely her own. I can only house her, nurture her with my best thoughts, cultivate her own source of joy and guide her through her journey to enlightenment. Our dialogues serve to remind me that she is my scale of conscience. My Soul doesn't know it yet, but of the two of us, she will be the stronger.
"Don't we have somewhere to be?" My Soul broke the silence.
I had to clear my throat before I spoke. "Not any more, we don't."
"Good! Let's just sit today out," she said.
"Your choice," I said.
"Ah, I like the taste of my freedom!" she said with a twinkle.
"So do I," I said. "So do I."
"Why do I have to comply all the time?" asked my Soul. "I am my own spirit. I have my own life. I want to be free."
"You are free," I said, somewhat taken aback by her forwardness.
"No, I'm not. You haven't given me the green light to do whatever I want," she said.
"What do you want?" I asked.
"I want to be free to do whatever I want, if ever I want and whenever I want."
"What's stopping you?" I said over my shoulder.
"You. You're stopping me. You're holding me back. "
"When? When have I held you back? And how am I holding you back?" I was getting defensive. "Don't I always tell you to 'do whatever you want... the opportunities are endless?'" I reminded her, and with a silly grin, I recalled an old nursery rhyme. "Tinker, tailor, soldier, sailor, doctor, dentist, actor, lawyer, rich man, poor man, beggar man, but NO thief." I laughed.
"You know that's not what I'm talking about," she said seriously. "I'm talking about guilt. I'm talking about feeling obligated that I have to comply to make YOU happy. " She was serious. Then she whispered softly, "I don't want to let you down."
My poor Soul. Her gentle spirit was troubled by an inner conflict. It was not so much what she was doing but what she was being that troubled her. I pulled over to the side of the road. This needed my full attention.
"Listen," I said. "Your freedom to be whoever and however it is you want to be...happy, sad, good, bad, weak, strong, caring, uncaring, friendly, distant, cheerful, grumpy, joyful, resentful.... is a choice you make as you develop yourself. Within you is an inalienable right to be free from coercion. I have no doubt that within you is the capacity to reach for the best that's for your own good."
"Yeah, but why do I feel guilty doing something that I know you may not approve?" She was still struggling with her conflicting emotions.
"Guilt is not a bad thing," I said. "Guilt is a learned response. It is the scale that measures your conscience against what you have been taught as 'should' or 'should not' do. If used as just that, guilt is not a bad thing. But more importantly, there is no should or should not. There is only your freedom to choose."
"And you, what about you? Do I ignore you completely if I am free?"
"If you choose to, you can. I am only the provider of tools with which you can seek your journey, have your conversations and ask all your questions in pursuit of your happiness. My joy is in your freedom. I am here to protect that freedom and 'enforce' the laws that will guard it. "
"You know, you're preachy," she said, very matter-of-fact.
"You had it coming," I said.
My Soul. She is of me and through me, yet she's entirely her own. I can only house her, nurture her with my best thoughts, cultivate her own source of joy and guide her through her journey to enlightenment. Our dialogues serve to remind me that she is my scale of conscience. My Soul doesn't know it yet, but of the two of us, she will be the stronger.
"Don't we have somewhere to be?" My Soul broke the silence.
I had to clear my throat before I spoke. "Not any more, we don't."
"Good! Let's just sit today out," she said.
"Your choice," I said.
"Ah, I like the taste of my freedom!" she said with a twinkle.
"So do I," I said. "So do I."
This I humbly speak...with freedom
Friday, May 21, 2010
My Own Day, Everyday
The timer on my outdoor lights was off. The lights came on too early in the afternoon and with the longer days of spring and summer, they needed to be set forward. Today, I did just that.
As I punched the numbers to move the clock forward, I thought what if I really could move my personal clock and skip a day or two, or even better, rewind my life by a day or two or three? Or what if I stopped the clock of my life at this perfect moment? I started to consider the options.
If I stopped the clock now, the day belonged to me. The beauty of the blue sky was mine. The sun with its first shower of light glimmering through the branches of the olive tree was mine. The sparrows nesting above my front door. All the birds in the trees. Even the neighbor's cat stretched out on their front porch was mine. It was such an exhilarating moment. I considered stopping the world right there and making today go on forever. But then again, I love life. How would I know what I'd be missing tomorrow, or the day after if today was forever?
Next, I considered the option of rewinding my life. Certainly, the course of my life would be different if given the chance to apply all that I know now, to my life the way it was then. As tempting as it was, if I couldn't do things perfectly the first time around, would I be able to do it right the second time? Or would I need a third time and a fourth? The more I thought about it, the more I rejected the idea. I am not one for perfection when it comes to the process of life. It's not my style. Remember, I'm the one who refused to go to a wedding rehearsal because "life is not a written script," I said. As tempted as I was at the thought of being able to "right" the "wrongs" of some of the things that I did, and as much as I may want to get a chance to "right" the "wrongs", everything that has happened in my life from events to people brings me to the place where I am right now. The events and choices I have made are woven together into a tapestry of intricate pattern that is my life. Assuming my life is a tapestry from start to finish, then like all stitchery, I have a wrong and a right side. If I turn the tapestry of my life thus far over to the "wrong" side, to the back where all the knots and adjoining threads are hidden, I see the beauty of redemption...a gradual decline of mixed up and messier threads as the tapestry of my life progresses over the years. The design on the back side is slowly becoming less messy and perhaps over time, the beauty of those random pieces of thread that work together will resemble the unique pieces of stitchery that, unless looked under extreme scrutiny, appear the same front and back. Nothing less than beautiful!
I finally got the clock right on the outdoor lights. I walked under the sparrows' nest and through my front door and entered into real time. Today, like everyday is a new day. It is a day to do things right, make good choices and decide wisely. It is a day to live with joy. Everyday, without turning back time, I have the opportunity to clean my slate and make it count.
The next 24 hours was mine.
This I humbly speak.
As I punched the numbers to move the clock forward, I thought what if I really could move my personal clock and skip a day or two, or even better, rewind my life by a day or two or three? Or what if I stopped the clock of my life at this perfect moment? I started to consider the options.
If I stopped the clock now, the day belonged to me. The beauty of the blue sky was mine. The sun with its first shower of light glimmering through the branches of the olive tree was mine. The sparrows nesting above my front door. All the birds in the trees. Even the neighbor's cat stretched out on their front porch was mine. It was such an exhilarating moment. I considered stopping the world right there and making today go on forever. But then again, I love life. How would I know what I'd be missing tomorrow, or the day after if today was forever?
Next, I considered the option of rewinding my life. Certainly, the course of my life would be different if given the chance to apply all that I know now, to my life the way it was then. As tempting as it was, if I couldn't do things perfectly the first time around, would I be able to do it right the second time? Or would I need a third time and a fourth? The more I thought about it, the more I rejected the idea. I am not one for perfection when it comes to the process of life. It's not my style. Remember, I'm the one who refused to go to a wedding rehearsal because "life is not a written script," I said. As tempted as I was at the thought of being able to "right" the "wrongs" of some of the things that I did, and as much as I may want to get a chance to "right" the "wrongs", everything that has happened in my life from events to people brings me to the place where I am right now. The events and choices I have made are woven together into a tapestry of intricate pattern that is my life. Assuming my life is a tapestry from start to finish, then like all stitchery, I have a wrong and a right side. If I turn the tapestry of my life thus far over to the "wrong" side, to the back where all the knots and adjoining threads are hidden, I see the beauty of redemption...a gradual decline of mixed up and messier threads as the tapestry of my life progresses over the years. The design on the back side is slowly becoming less messy and perhaps over time, the beauty of those random pieces of thread that work together will resemble the unique pieces of stitchery that, unless looked under extreme scrutiny, appear the same front and back. Nothing less than beautiful!
I finally got the clock right on the outdoor lights. I walked under the sparrows' nest and through my front door and entered into real time. Today, like everyday is a new day. It is a day to do things right, make good choices and decide wisely. It is a day to live with joy. Everyday, without turning back time, I have the opportunity to clean my slate and make it count.
The next 24 hours was mine.
This I humbly speak.
Monday, May 17, 2010
Meet My Id
Id and I were in the midst of an argument. I had said "be grateful, feel blessed, things happen for a reason," and that triggered the point of no return. We'd come too far to stop now.
"There is no reason, no 'look on the bright side' argument to this," said Id. "Things happen. You're either lucky or unlucky. Stop looking for a 'goodness' reason in all things. Accidents happen because they happen."
For a moment, I had a flashback to a favorite line from the movie "It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad, World," where Mrs. Marcus says with a know-it-all attitude "...These things happen? They only happen because this whole country is full of people who, when these things happen, they just say these things happen, and that's why they happen." That's it. Period. End of argument. Maybe for Id, it was the end of argument, but not for me.
"Yes, accidents happen because certain factors in the process of life come together at that particular moment in that particular way resulting in a particular outcome which you wish to call unfortunate. It may not be unfortunate unless you wish to make it unfortunate." I had to speak.
"Do you mean to tell me I am creating my own misfortune?" asked Id.
"In a way, yes," I said softly. I had to be gentle. My Id, much like me, is passionate about life. But we differ, my Id and I. " If you see yourself as the victim of a situation, then that's what you are. See yourself as being in that situation because you choose to be, and soon you'll see that life proceeds from your intentions for it. Life is a process of elements and factors, and the result of your thoughts about it, positive or negative, is a choice you make," I repeated.
"So, let me get this straight. I'm standing in a crowd watching a parade and a bird flying overhead drops a load and out of all the hundreds in the crowd, the crap lands on my head, and you're telling me I'm supposed to look on the bright side and be grateful because lucky me, there's got to be a good reason behind this because I just got crapped on!?" Id was mocking me.
"Precisely!" I beamed, ignoring his sarcasm. "Out of all the hundreds in the crowd, what are the chances that the bird would land a load on you!! How lucky you must be to be singled out. Imagine if that had been a gold coin that fell from the sky. Would you have considered it fortunate or unfortunate? So the point is to accept these things as a process of life, as a small piece of a larger mosaic and your struggles of fortunate and unfortunate will cease." I stood my ground.
"Accidents happen," Id mumbled.
"Yeah, but nothing happens by accident," I chuckled.
"There is no reason, no 'look on the bright side' argument to this," said Id. "Things happen. You're either lucky or unlucky. Stop looking for a 'goodness' reason in all things. Accidents happen because they happen."
For a moment, I had a flashback to a favorite line from the movie "It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad, World," where Mrs. Marcus says with a know-it-all attitude "...These things happen? They only happen because this whole country is full of people who, when these things happen, they just say these things happen, and that's why they happen." That's it. Period. End of argument. Maybe for Id, it was the end of argument, but not for me.
"Yes, accidents happen because certain factors in the process of life come together at that particular moment in that particular way resulting in a particular outcome which you wish to call unfortunate. It may not be unfortunate unless you wish to make it unfortunate." I had to speak.
"Do you mean to tell me I am creating my own misfortune?" asked Id.
"In a way, yes," I said softly. I had to be gentle. My Id, much like me, is passionate about life. But we differ, my Id and I. " If you see yourself as the victim of a situation, then that's what you are. See yourself as being in that situation because you choose to be, and soon you'll see that life proceeds from your intentions for it. Life is a process of elements and factors, and the result of your thoughts about it, positive or negative, is a choice you make," I repeated.
"So, let me get this straight. I'm standing in a crowd watching a parade and a bird flying overhead drops a load and out of all the hundreds in the crowd, the crap lands on my head, and you're telling me I'm supposed to look on the bright side and be grateful because lucky me, there's got to be a good reason behind this because I just got crapped on!?" Id was mocking me.
"Precisely!" I beamed, ignoring his sarcasm. "Out of all the hundreds in the crowd, what are the chances that the bird would land a load on you!! How lucky you must be to be singled out. Imagine if that had been a gold coin that fell from the sky. Would you have considered it fortunate or unfortunate? So the point is to accept these things as a process of life, as a small piece of a larger mosaic and your struggles of fortunate and unfortunate will cease." I stood my ground.
"Accidents happen," Id mumbled.
"Yeah, but nothing happens by accident," I chuckled.
This I humbly speak.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Poetic Passion
"I'd rather spend one moment with you in the presence of God than a lifetime of being alone with wisdom." (Words of a Greek song heard at a concert)
Since God and wisdom are one and the same, in plain English " 'tis better to have loved for one moment than to not have loved at all."
Sounds better in Greek, don't you think?
Ah, the poetic passion of Greeks!
Seems the country is also bearing the brunt of their passion, be it through corruption of government or the unrealized expectations of the people.
This I humbly speak.
Since God and wisdom are one and the same, in plain English " 'tis better to have loved for one moment than to not have loved at all."
Sounds better in Greek, don't you think?
Ah, the poetic passion of Greeks!
Seems the country is also bearing the brunt of their passion, be it through corruption of government or the unrealized expectations of the people.
This I humbly speak.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
What is Love?
The room was noisy, the atmosphere cheerful and appetites were starved for want of food set before the delegates at the dinner buffet. The event was an end to a busy day of meeting of the minds of ladies, bishops and clergy representing their parishes.
"What is love?" asked the bishop at the dinner table. "How would you describe it?"
Ordinarily, such a universal question would create a quick and impulsive response from all genders and ages. But this was not an ordinary table. Seated was the bishop, priests, women, married with children and without, a single young girl, a young man and I.
"Love is that feeling of need, an unquenchable want for something that cannot be attained," said 'C'.
"In other words," said 'E', "unrequited love. "
"That's not unrequited love," said 'B'. "That's lust. Lust and desire, they hold on, they clutch what you have."
"Much like conditional love," said 'A'.
"Yes," said 'E'. "Conditional love is based on fear. True love cannot have conditions attached.For example, take the unconditional love of a mother toward her child."
"Uh-huh," chimed 'D'. "Love doesn't constrict. Love lets go. It shares, it soothes, it comforts."
"True," said the bishop. "So let me rephrase the question. What is perfect love?"
"Love is perfection of goodness and understanding and mercy and compassion," said 'F'.
"Love can be blind," said 'A', "and yet be perfect in the eyes of the beholder."
"How can it be perfect when blinded by love creates a false reality about whom you love and why you love?" asked 'B'.
"Love encompasses awe, mysticism." This from 'F'.
"That's stricken or smitten by love and not true and perfect love," responded 'B'.
"Love," said the bishop, "in its perfection, engages mind, body and soul in unity. It requires wisdom."
"But youth doesn't wait or know wisdom. Youth gather knowledge, pass through experiences, cherish hopes which as a rule can only later be fulfilled. So they're at a disadvantage, given your explanation," said 'C'.
"Perhaps, yes. But it's not to say that those experiences do not lend to the 'I' in you. They lend to find your bearings as an 'I' and the life of your entire being, mind, body and soul, is constantly enriched as you gain wisdom," explained 'D'.
"The older we grow, the more we begin to love the wisdom revealed by life. The more love of life wisdom increases, egoism and expectation of gaining something from our wisdom decreases, " said the bishop.
I smiled. It was my turn.
"It is the sum total. The everything. The Alpha and the Omega," said 'I'. "Love is the ultimate in selflessness of mind, body and soul."
This I humbly speak from my heart.
"What is love?" asked the bishop at the dinner table. "How would you describe it?"
Ordinarily, such a universal question would create a quick and impulsive response from all genders and ages. But this was not an ordinary table. Seated was the bishop, priests, women, married with children and without, a single young girl, a young man and I.
"Love is that feeling of need, an unquenchable want for something that cannot be attained," said 'C'.
"In other words," said 'E', "unrequited love. "
"That's not unrequited love," said 'B'. "That's lust. Lust and desire, they hold on, they clutch what you have."
"Much like conditional love," said 'A'.
"Yes," said 'E'. "Conditional love is based on fear. True love cannot have conditions attached.For example, take the unconditional love of a mother toward her child."
"Uh-huh," chimed 'D'. "Love doesn't constrict. Love lets go. It shares, it soothes, it comforts."
"True," said the bishop. "So let me rephrase the question. What is perfect love?"
"Love is perfection of goodness and understanding and mercy and compassion," said 'F'.
"Love can be blind," said 'A', "and yet be perfect in the eyes of the beholder."
"How can it be perfect when blinded by love creates a false reality about whom you love and why you love?" asked 'B'.
"Love encompasses awe, mysticism." This from 'F'.
"That's stricken or smitten by love and not true and perfect love," responded 'B'.
"Love," said the bishop, "in its perfection, engages mind, body and soul in unity. It requires wisdom."
"But youth doesn't wait or know wisdom. Youth gather knowledge, pass through experiences, cherish hopes which as a rule can only later be fulfilled. So they're at a disadvantage, given your explanation," said 'C'.
"Perhaps, yes. But it's not to say that those experiences do not lend to the 'I' in you. They lend to find your bearings as an 'I' and the life of your entire being, mind, body and soul, is constantly enriched as you gain wisdom," explained 'D'.
"The older we grow, the more we begin to love the wisdom revealed by life. The more love of life wisdom increases, egoism and expectation of gaining something from our wisdom decreases, " said the bishop.
I smiled. It was my turn.
"It is the sum total. The everything. The Alpha and the Omega," said 'I'. "Love is the ultimate in selflessness of mind, body and soul."
This I humbly speak from my heart.
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Meet my Soul
"I know what you're saying, " I said, "but I believe that..."
"Ok. Stop right there," said my Soul. "We can't go on with this conversation."
"Why?" I asked her.
"Because you said 'I believe,' and when you use the word 'believe,' you speak with such firm conviction it leaves no room for an exchange of ideas. Belief is beyond reproach. It digs deeply inside oneself to discern what one truly commits to."
"Then how am I supposed to express my opinion or thoughts on the subject?"
"Just like that...give your opinion. Your opinion is open to discussion because it is created on the basis of accumulated knowledge. Your belief, on the other hand, is your credo, and your credo is based on a conviction of faith. It manifests as the ultimate reality. How do you think wars were started? " she continued.
"Because of MY belief?" I asked in disbelief.
"No, not yours, but of beliefs of unshakable faith. Belief is founded in religion. Unshakable. Belief is rooted in faith, and faith almost always implies certitude even when there is no evidence or proof. So how can I have a converstaion with you when you state 'I believe?' You allow me no room for an intellectual exchange that could lend credence to either side of the conversation." She pouts.
My Soul is young. Do I tell her that religion is NOT about believing things? Do I tell her that religion is about behaving differently instead of deciding whether you believe in God or an ultimate deity? Do I tell her that the cause of our present woes is not religious but political, due in fact to religious illiteracy? I decide to let it be. Besides, I wasn't going to take a chance at starting a war!
So , this I humbly speak...... with faith.
"Ok. Stop right there," said my Soul. "We can't go on with this conversation."
"Why?" I asked her.
"Because you said 'I believe,' and when you use the word 'believe,' you speak with such firm conviction it leaves no room for an exchange of ideas. Belief is beyond reproach. It digs deeply inside oneself to discern what one truly commits to."
"Then how am I supposed to express my opinion or thoughts on the subject?"
"Just like that...give your opinion. Your opinion is open to discussion because it is created on the basis of accumulated knowledge. Your belief, on the other hand, is your credo, and your credo is based on a conviction of faith. It manifests as the ultimate reality. How do you think wars were started? " she continued.
"Because of MY belief?" I asked in disbelief.
"No, not yours, but of beliefs of unshakable faith. Belief is founded in religion. Unshakable. Belief is rooted in faith, and faith almost always implies certitude even when there is no evidence or proof. So how can I have a converstaion with you when you state 'I believe?' You allow me no room for an intellectual exchange that could lend credence to either side of the conversation." She pouts.
My Soul is young. Do I tell her that religion is NOT about believing things? Do I tell her that religion is about behaving differently instead of deciding whether you believe in God or an ultimate deity? Do I tell her that the cause of our present woes is not religious but political, due in fact to religious illiteracy? I decide to let it be. Besides, I wasn't going to take a chance at starting a war!
So , this I humbly speak...... with faith.
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