Friday, December 25, 2020

Christ-mas Day ruminations from a covid monastery

That was emailed to me yesterday by Shirrel Rhoades, of Key West, who published my trilogy book, A SOUTHERN LAWYER WHO BECAME A MYSTIC, which Amazon carries in paperback and kindle, and which you can read for free by clicking on this link to the first part of the trilogy:

I have told a few people the trilogy is my "last will and testament". But, it didn't stop me from continuing to shoot off my mouth. 

From a Facebook friend this Christ-mas Day, I joined the discussion:

It's not this black & white. If you have family members, friends, loved ones who struggle with mental illness you don't just walk away because they're inconvenient or making your life hard.

That's the hard part, its not black and white, not so easy. Walking way might be healthy for me, but not for everybody..

But it isn’t always possible to walk away....but an intimate walk with God can help endure the difficult.

Well in Theory this is of course ideal no, but when your son has a hair up his nose and withhold your grandchildren from seeing you for no good reason, I'm not walking away from them no matter how much it hurts

Chari P. Casto and neither you should walk away hang in there maybe use a different tactic ‘ You trap more flys with honey than you do with vinegar “

Nothing or no one makes me laugh or smile anymore. Covid stole all of that away. I am emotionally exhausted..

Sloan Bashinsky
Although I did not read the novel, THE RAZOR'S EDGE, I saw the film adaptation, staring Bill Murray, who played a seeker of old, lost, secret, mysterious knowledge. His most precious belongings were rare books on those topics, as he wandered and hoped to find more such books, until one day he ended up in a Buddhist monastery in very high mountains, where he did  monk apprentice things like sweep and scrub floors, stir cauldrons of cooking food, until one day the lama sent for him and said it was time for him to go up on the mountain and contemplate. The seeker starts to leave, and the lama hands him his satchel of precious books to take with him. The seeker is then seen at the mouth of a cave, sitting before a small fire, looking out at the vastness before him, until finally he opens the satchel and takes out the precious books and opens them one at a time and tears out the pages and feeds them to the fire, until all the books are burned and he knows it's time for him to end the retreat and return to the world. 
Back in Paris, the seeker meets a woman, who belongs to a pimp and is hooked on heroin, or opium, or something like that. The seeker falls in love with her while he tries to rescue her, which after a while it seems he has done, but no. Her pimp is furious, the seeker finds her with her throat slit, and then begins an agonizing contemplation in which he wonders if what life really is about is getting fully immersed and doing his very best without knowing how it will turn out, and that's enough? 
I have had my heart broken many times, which perhaps made it stronger. I have gotten deeply involved many times, which often did not turn out happy. There have been many bright moments. Covid has not been fun, but I have had several great visits with my older daughter and her husband and one of their daughters, who live close enough to me, for me to visit them at their home in Mississippi. where I now am. 
I have a good friend who lives alone, has lived alone for quite a while, has awful medical troubles, has no car, cannot afford a car, is a shut in, only sees her visiting aide and next door neighbors and doctors her aide takes her to see. 
I have another friend who ls homeless, sleeps nights in places she hopes police will not find her and take her to jail for a month. She has medical problems, to make it more rugged for her. 
I have a friend who has little money, which leaves him living with his family, who think he is insane and should be on meds.
All three of those friends have ongoing experiences with angels, have angel-induced dreams and visions, sometimes about me, so they are pretty special to me. 
My beloved niece recently died at age 41 of a very aggressive cancer and now is enjoying herself in Heaven. 
I am embroiled in a very difficult matter involving my father's estate, in which I have had to nudge, push, sometimes yank some of the other people, who perhaps think I am crazy and should be on meds. 
Nearly all of that and my relationships are conducted by phone, text and email. 
Covid has changed everything, perhaps kinda like being stuck in a monastery. Hopefully, it will pass, but I wonder what kind of place America will be if Covid does pass? It's not the America I knew a few years ago. I fear for the safety of my daughters and their families.
I have never lived in a monastery, but I can't help but wonder how a monk, who does live in a monastery and does not get roughed up by life in ways my children and their families and my friends and the seeker in the RAZOR'S EDGE get roughed up, can give us advice?

No comments:

Post a Comment