An Explorer's Eyes -Additional Coffee Thoughts.

 

It was my first day in an anthropology class at Oakton Community College. The teacher handed us a paper with a story on it for us to read. It was on some explorers finding relics and describing in their field notes what they came upon - they spoke of vessels of worship, reflective panels, stone basins, and altars all around. It wasn't until the very end the reader realized those explorers were from the future, and those relics were your everyday world. Perspective is important, especially looking back in time, you cannot understand motivation if you don't understand their eyes, and intangible hurdles and opportunities they had. 

Even what has been written in stone will one day erode into dust. 

I think this is something we don't incorporate into our day to day and even though we are big on growth and evolution. Could be why we keep misfiring, collectively and individually - as one feeds into the other. 

How will they describe us? Our relics? Look at we all do and then have wars over it all. Twisted. Then we stand our ground in refusal to consider a new approach, I know ..I am stubborn, too. It really is as basic as all of that -everything we are dealing with whether it is a neighbor giving you grief or an overgrown politician throwing a temper tantrum.  We're all the same in the core and that is being stuck on a hamster wheel of known, even if it is bad for us. 

We are afraid to look at history keeping in perspective man's eyes at the time, what they saw and yet were still ignorant about, and we hold their descriptions and our perceived assumptions of motivation, to heart and to the extreme we are willing to commit a mortal sin to please a God we all claim only wants us to love another. 

And we teach that to our children. 

I am not one to tell you what your faith should be or even if you have to have one - that is the most intimate relationship you will ever have as it lives in your soul with every breath - how you carry it is your choice as long as it is not to silence another's who is doing no harm. 

I was brought up to wear my crucifix under my shirt and close to my heart. I did that for a few decades before my own frustration with man's handling of the church caused me to walk away. During those years I did gravitate to The Sacred and The Scarlet as I lacked unconditional nurturing. I was a sensitive child in the midst of secrets, trauma and gaslighting. I am thankful I had them, their stories of true love and life giving to wrap me in comfort when I needed it most. It doesn't matter if I look to them with the heart of an innocent devout child or the. eyes of a curious student dissecting history, the story, their bittersweet aches, hold beauty. 

No matter where I am in my spiritual journey - holding my rosary, reading some ghost stories, or watching documentaries - the message they carried when you look at them from all perspectives, were they both were forces of love and empathy to be reckoned with -how many other females have stood such test of time? Anytime history held the presence of a woman long enough for us to learn about them, you automatically know she held space - no matter how man's paint brush landed those splotches. 

Their presence lingering is mother's love spilling over to all who have ever felt left out for whatever reason, hurt no matter the blow, or just a reminder their heart beats - you know by how compelled we are by their stories, even if half told by a man's eye, yes Henry VIII- I'm talking to you ;)  

I think that is what is endearing me most to finding out about Fr, Peyton entering my young life when he did - his devotion to Mary, and mother's pure love- it truly is what keeps our planet spinning and Mother Nature breathing. 

We need to paint that gift of life with truer and kinder paint brushes. 

Some additional Coffee Thoughts for a Valentine's Day - why not?

Be Well 💜💜💜

Thank you for being patient with my journey.

Above image created with Canva.