A Sunday Sermon

yes, i go to church on sundays. that is, when i can.
and lately, it's been almost every sunday.
i have to be honest - i'm a "lapsed" catholic, if there is one.
i've questioned my faith, some of the Catholic Church's practices, but not enough to be a heretic.

occasionally a priest's sermon would touch a nerve in me as so happened yesterday.
my sister nudged me when the priest mentioned something about family issues.
yes, our family has its share.
the priest was right in saying that some of the "crosses we carry" are self made,
self imposed.

i thought he was right in saying that we could resolve some of our issues by ourselves,
no need for third party intervention.
it's a matter of admitting or realizing our errors and doing something about it before it's too late for any resolution.
it's a matter of letting go of our self inflicted pain and accepting things we can't control or change.
and moving forward.

the sermon i heard yesterday was something i had to, i was meant to hear.
(we could have gone to a different church, but my almost 5 year old niece wanted us to go to this church, this particular sunday. and she has no idea of our family issues.)

it provided a moment of clarity, of looking at an issue or situation in a different light.
it made me consider "what ifs" and "why nots".
as well as reminded me that some wounds take time to heal.

just a sunday sermon.

Put It Out There

put it out there. and i don't mean or refer to your garbage. far from it, please.
i'm talking about your dreams, your thoughts - the good ones mainly.

it all starts with a thought.
most of the time followed by a "why not ?" rather than by a "why ?".
only later on will it be followed by "what made you think that ?" or "how did you think it up ?".
if you had thought about the follow up questions first, you'd end up not doing anything about your thought (or idea, or whatever you would like to call your epiphany of sorts).

but really, i woke up early this morning wanting to go to the bathroom. moments later my head just started churning out thoughts and you're reading (one of) them now.

put it out there.
sometimes you can and sometimes you can't. you sometimes have to hold on to a thought because it may not sound right or because of "timing" issues and concerns.
and sometimes you just have to put it out there and just go with the wind that takes it where it goes.

put it out there.
and go with the magic of it working the way you imagined it, whatever it is.
i've seen it happen. i've done it a number of times. geez, you've done it so many times.
that sudden instinct to do something, no thoughts required.
sometimes it's a hunger. sometimes it's an itch.
sometimes it's just something you have to do.
and sometimes they're not new imaginings.
or they may even be someone else's.

put it out there.
if you have to pray about it, go ahead.
i believe in prayers being answered. but be prepared.
not all prayers are answered immediately.
but they are, if you believe.
not in the way you want or in the way you imagined.
just be prepared.
life is filled with surprises - some pleasant, some not.
but it's all worth it.

put it out there. be surprised.

GO !

Sponges

i've noticed how people would sometimes ask me "how did you find out ?" or "how did you know ?" whenever i would tell them something they didn't know about or they didn't know i knew about.

you have time to do that ? is a common thing i would hear after i tell them i found out from the newspaper or read it online or heard it on the radio.

it's easy. i just notice things. it's all out there if you just paid a bit of attention, sometimes you don't even have to.

it's also sponge-like behaviour. we're sponges.
we have a tendency to pick up things by osmosis, just like plants.
it's how we were when we were kids.
notice the way you talk, or walk or what you eat and think.
you picked most of it up from the people you grew up with.
it's repetitive behaviour.
before you know it, you become like them or become one of them.

scary, but true. we'd like to think of ourselves as higher forms of being.
but we do things at a baser level.
we really have to think about how we do things or why.
we want to protect a way of life, of seeing and doing things.
we may deny it as much as we want to.
but when you turn on the radio or television, or read the front pages of the newspapers or your chosen webpage, you will see how much people everywhere are doing the same thing, operating at the same level of intelligence or intolerance.

we're all the same - sponges.

and wonder not when someone asks you why you think or act a certain way or why you know certain things and adhere to certain truths. you've sponged off your elders' way of life and thinking and watch out how your kids will turn out.

Serendipity

Serendipity.

just finished reading Mitch Albom's For One More Day. it's about one "ordinary" day anyone might yearn for to make good with and/or seek forgiveness from a "lost" loved one.

i learned about the book while reading someone's blog last week.

soon after i tried to get a copy on Amazon but put it off thinking it was just another unnecessary expense.

the one i just read was borrowed from the local library yesterday after i accompanied my niece to return and borrow some books. take note - i wasn't thinking about borrowing the book. i just found it while browsing while i was waiting for my niece.

this past saturday's local paper, the Austin American-Statesman, carried an article in its Life and Arts section about an austin-based writer named Edmund "Bud" Shrake.

in it, the article's writer (Patrick Beach), started his piece by mentioning Mr. Shrake's mystical experience which occurred in September 2001. he had surgery on a cancerous tumor in a kidney. after getting medication for his pain, he had what he calls an "after-life experience".

he woke up in intensive care. one of his visitors, a former nurse, found him "dead" and revived him with cpr. he was told that he was "dead" for several minutes.

during the time he was out, Mr. Shrake remembers realizing he had a soul. he found out that life is the gasoline that runs y/our engine and death is right there, just like your elbow. he also realized that the universe is made of bits of information and that the universe is no fluke.

Mr. Albom's book is about death and dying too. and on an ordinary saturday afternoon i just happen to read about the subject from two unrelated sources: one factual and one supposedly fictional.

what strikes me most out of these recent readings is what the other author (Mr. Shrake) had to say about the universe being made up of bits of information.

Serendipity.

makes me wonder less about why i blog or why i read other people's blogs.

Expressions

expressions.
that's how i perceive the blogs i've come across so far.
expressions of how their writers feel about whatever they wake up to, who they wake up with and what they eventually end up sleeping with (or on).

expressions of joy, of love, of fear, of sadness, of disgust, of anger.
we certainly have a lot to say if given the chance.
yeah, been reading a bit of the blogs out there.
some get to me in a good way.
some just turn me off, disgust me.
and so i walk away.

i'm sorry i can't satisfy the voyeurs out there.
i won't let you know about the people in my life.
or why, or how they are in it.
i will leave you with my own personal expressions.
that's all i will share and thank you for letting me share in yours.