Monthly Archives: May 2015

Eternal Continuum (Part Two)

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a central point
lurking somewhere
between nothing
and all—
and infinitely far
from understanding
either…tumblr_nlxdr5BkKB1s2z59jo1_1280blind to nothingness
from which
we flashed
at the call
of Fiery Lips
and numb
to the infinite
glories that engulf
and hold us.

this point unchangeable
this chameleon point
containing all contradiction
and inconsistencytumblr_np01taszo51s5neh1o2_1280

(desire to be a friend
the bent to manipulate friends
the being of a neighbor good
the compulsion to walk away
cold hearted without helping)

this point,
this tipping point
has honour enough
to erect the head
of the poorest bum,
and shame enough
to bow the shoulders
of the greatest king.

that Point,
that Mediator
of Merciful Hope

(drying the tears of a broken world
reviving the Image of the Divine within
overcoming the enemies
of our Death and Sin)___6021929_orig

Sure, grounded
obviating and containing
all contradictions
in this point

that point provides
the only grounding
and offers hope
for the contradictions
within, and more
than mere hope
for escape.

That point redeems the tension this point is.tumblr_njx55hxpLn1sypuuko1_400

We have born
the image of
the man of dust.

We also will
bear the Image
of the One
in Heaven

overflowing
with
thankfulness.tumblr_noy7d6hyuJ1s5neh1o1_1280

Privilege and Captivity: One and the Same

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This morning I am somewhat morose over an experience that I had this week.tumblr_mws19657NM1t3vrj3o1_540

I am struggling to deal with the ways that people tend to gravitate to ideas and appealing causes, tend to be drawn to words that are spoken with passion and purpose…

…but when the Incarnation time comes, they turtle…back into the shell of comfort, or familiarity, or least resistance, or something that they falsely call peace when it is actually the mere absence of conflict.

You did realise that, didn’t you? Your destiny? To become an Incarnate word? To take that core passion, meaning, burning intention, determination, whatever it is, and actually become a living, breathing, triumphing, failing, enduring persevering example of it!

But oh the cost…and pain…confusion and sorrow (But One has gone before and blazed the trail).tumblr_np0qu3m6mq1qk2poao1_1280

There is a paradigm in our culture (that stems from a greater problem, but that is another post another time) and it holds us ALL captive…except some of us are captive in barbwire bonds, and some are just captive by walls inescapable…and can move about, partake of comforts that make it more bearable being a prisoner.

That latter quality is called privilege. When you have it, words that wound and destroy are seen as not such a bad thing and meant only as jokes or slang.

When you don’t have it and protest words that wound and destroy,  you become the object of the privileged speaker’s ire and irritation at being called out…and finding yourself alone in this sort of battle is sobering and difficult.

When you have privilege a raid on your personhood is like going to the beach and taking a bucketful of sand…when you don’t have it, a raid on your personhood is like a flood that washes away precious topsoil and leaves a devastating wasteland in its place.tumblr_nowtpbDLaj1s4cmmwo1_1280

This week I encountered a man on social media who used diminishing and objectifying vocabulary to describe how he became aroused as a teen-ager regardless of what the women were wearing.  He purported to be a supporter of women, an opponent of Rape Culture and an advocate for women as subjects and not just objects of the lusts of men.  He seemed to value being somewhat flip and “hep”, because he used this term to describe lusting after a woman:  “Bone Out”.

Bone Out.393121_400888443273074_63734520_n-934x

Constance, if you are reading this as a human being who has spent time in male spaces where they believe themselves to be alone with themselves and no female people present, you will recognize this term as slang for masturbation accompanied by fantasizing over whatever poor unfortunate woman has the burden of being his fantasy object, and in this fantasy she will do, be, say, or act out whatever it is he wants (or thinks he does).  You will also know that after you are finished “boning out”, you will have unconsciously internalized (in varying degrees) some of this fantasy as “how women really are” and “what women really want”.

Constance, if you are female…how do you feel inside when someone who purports to be an advocate advocates for you while talking about “Boning Out” and blatantly says that it doesn’t matter what you wear, it is going to happen?

Well, I called him out on it…first with a somewhat rhetorical “Wait, whaaaa?  What did I just read?” (or words to that effect, I cannot quote them because I blocked this person after our next exchanges).

Aaaannnnddd, what do you think this advocate did?  Check himself, and say “Oh wow, sorry ladies, I apologize for my slang, and I really do see how in trying to make a point that dress codes are irrelevant I inadvertently revealed that I was gonna lust after you whenever I wanted to”…hmm?  Seems a gracious response, yes?  Or do you think he got huffy, aggrieved and touchy, blame shifting any objection to what he said over to the objector?

DING DING DING!!!  And you got it!  The latter!tumblr_n6a43xqvY01qfi7p6o1_1280

Now keep in mind that this thread was vitally active with intelligent women who were making informed and insightful thoughtful comments and expressing their hearts over how these dress codes are designed to oppress and other women and keep them in places of exclusion in the paradigm.

So I commented further and sought to point out that his vocabulary was coarse at best and lowered the level of discourse and destructive at worst because of the way it objectified and sexualized women.  I tried to point out that he had obviated his support of abolishing dress codes by flat out stating that he would lust after a woman regardless of what she is wearing!

Let that sink in.

He then went on to defend his position that school attire should be like work attire:  “business appropriate”…and that is not a bad idea, by the way (the fact that many people do not want to go into business not withstanding)…and yet still couldn’t see that the problem was not the dress code!

The problem is in the attitude of males who believe it their right OR their inescapable biological destiny to lust after women for the sake of their own satiation sexually.  So we know that this person would “bone out” over a woman in business attire, or snowsuits, or bikinis, or the latest chic shade of grey.

Scattered throughout his man-splainin’ were jabs at me, turning it back on me and basically claiming to be intention-wise such a champion of women…and he doubled down on his slang with scatological vocabulary and a tone of anger in his words that I took as his clear intention to intimidate me into silence…tumblr_nowl3btjDz1sooy9go1_1280

and he also doubled down on his blindness and tone-deafness, by making comments about his propensity to get aroused over whatever women were around.  He did not own this as his own issue!  He said that women give him a chubby!

So Constance, you women out there…be it known that you now have a new role: to be a Giver!  YAAAYYY…um no yay, because you are now a giver of chubbies.

Oh, and “chubbie” is a cute word which is used to cutify the male erection…I suppose calling it a chubbie was supposed to make me coo like it was his mischievous unruly puppy that makes messes here and there but will be oh so loveable if I just pet it and feed it.

I know these things.  I lived amongst them.tumblr_mxqdlbSkej1qft4nwo2_1280

No matter what you are doing, whether you realize it or not, you are a giver of chubbies to men.  And what are these poor fellows to do, being such a downtrodden oppressed group, except to take this gift and…yeah.

Well, I appealed to my sisters who had been speaking so lively and true…was I wrong?  Was I out of line?  Was everyone just so impressed with his wit, his scatological riffs more reminiscent of Richard Pryor than Dice Clay?  Would they let me know?  Or, if I was right, would they come to my side and help me try to educate this man?

I also decided to draw the interaction to a conclusion so far as my end was concerned because in social media an artificial connection exists that does not lend itself well to “Iron sharpening Iron”…you have all been there I am sure…emotions rise up and swamp intellect and good will is washed away and insult and invective become the implements of war in Sarcasm’s hand, until blood and entrails are the media for the pictograms that death carves into the scene.  And all that carnage between two Image Bearers who have never met, never knew each other even existed 10 minutes before, and have no idea who and what the other person is…

…the wrong that is inside us just gushes out like a geyser…

…why does it almost never happen otherwise when there is a sharp difference of opinion or misunderstanding?  No, better to just end it, after all the beginning of a quarrel is soo much like starting to relieve one’s self:  once it is going, it is nearly impossible to stop until you have voided your bladder, and then it’s too late, you have defiled everything in the stream of your waste.

And also, I blocked this person, because I have stepped in it before with men just like this guy who then become relentless in hunting me down and virtually assaulting me online, and rest assured they make sure that I know that I am transgender and what they think of it…as if I had not ever known or heard.  And when you are told that you will be ambushed and killed by people that others think is a great guy, well it messes with your heart.tumblr_mwk6uksqQj1sl15wgo1_1280

And no, this guy did not say that to me…at least not that I know.  Because I blocked him preemptively.

This all happened on someone else’s domain, and I did not feel the freedom to deconstruct his arguments and address them one by one…and I truly believe that he was so angry and defensive it would have made it worse.  I also did not think to copy them all before I blocked him so that I had a record, and I do not want to unblock him in order to do that…

…so these are my recollections…but really…these are the things I felt and experienced…

and they left me feeling bruised and insulted…

…and isolated.tumblr_mqhjbp8dZ61qer2oto1_1280

No one else said anything…what was so obvi to me was either not true, wasn’t visible, or was so scary that no one else would step forward and stand with me.  And that is what was the most deeply discouraging, because then I wonder if I had been a cis female would someone have spoken up for me?  Was everyone silent because I am transgender, and openly so?  Is my courage like trying to put out a volcano by carrying teacups of water to the violence one by one?

If I am silent, it continues.  If I speak, it attacks, and continues.

Well, I am speaking.  Here…on Grace Notes…and I am saying it is not okay for men to hide behind the notion that their arousal from being around women is something they cannot control…I know about this first hand, and it is indeed possible to not do this!  I am saying it is not okay to talk both sides against the middle.

And that way?  At least I can live with myself.

Do JUSTICE
Love MERCY
Walk HUMBLY

In sorrow and tears,
Charissa

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Eternal Continuum (Part One)

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“What does it mean to be human?”

That’s like asking
what does it mean
to mean something!

Plumbing depths of humanity
and falling past microscopic random flaws,
thru macroscopic cosmic starbursts,
thru eternity’s barrier of sound and senses,
to find yourself again placed heretumblr_norohiwnQL1sppftyo1_1280in perfect setting

like golden apples in rings of silver pure
between micro and macro verses…
placed intentionally and sure,

well, the implications are far-reaching and intricate,
and I wonder at the cure for

a mind untamed
a soul intellectual
inhabiting together
a body become
an appetitive beast
a divided creature furtive
and creeping corpulent
and crepitating with
crepuscular compassion
and cruelty
all at once.380712_400888633273055_1393352173_n-620x

Is the dividing line
of mind and body
the line dividing
good and evil
that cuts through
the heart of every
human being?

and what is that?
Being human?tumblr_np0l2kYa261qkb10mo1_1280

The Pools of Illusion

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Your bellies drag the ground,
crouched and coiled and waiting,
unsprung and deadly potent,
filled with waters, poison
imbibed, ingested, indulged,
you lurk and lay in waiting
to pounce on me defenseless,
beside dark pools malignant
 with memories, dreams and reflections
that sit off kilter, cracked,
those springs of tales seductive
retold and twisted…clockwise

(remember that we used to live
anti-clock-wise?  You recall?
Remember how that was?
Can you even do it now…
re-member?Your tails lashing hazy air
your tales lashing me in here,
deep inside, they probe and seek
to replicate themselves,
like viruses, contagious
half-truths bitter, poisonous
in decade-long half-lives
hanging like a blade
of time left to be served
in a sentence undeserved.tumblr_nlo1ogBFSk1s2z59jo1_1280But I swim rivers
pure and vital,
waters crashed on
clean stone, shattered
into liquid smithereens,
a million broken rainbow prismstumblr_nb949v0kp41s1vn29o5_1280clinging to the air together
to speak of wholeness
in the broken
gathering of them
all together andtumblr_nmzdul5Y8W1qbe766o3_1280I breathe air and drink
the water of life immune
to your off-kilter philter.

So if you see me
(if you even bother
to look) and I am sick?
It is your own infected myth
I drain so you could simply stop,
quit worshipping the twisted past,
old box of pain, and you can join me,
once again beneath the stars,

beneath the moon in the spring rain
in the spring rain beneath the moon
the moon and rain so clean and pure
and free from stagnant pools.tumblr_m67b1gzLlg1qzn4kzo1_1280

Breathtaking Quote!

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tumblr_nnvtyxBU6W1qat5pio1_500This.  My goal when I create poetry.

“We want
to decipher skies
and paintings,
go behind these starry backgrounds
or these painted canvases and,
like kids
trying to find a gap
in a fence,
try to look through the cracks
in the world.”
— Georges Bataille

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On Outing Another Person

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Constance…

You have read here of my evolution and growth, and the reduction as well over the last year and a half since I began writing Grace Notes.

Odds are you have also seen articles and notes that I have posted that are designed to educate you regarding how mindsets influence action…but actions affect heart-sets…and heart-sets inform mindsets.

As you think in your heart, this is how you are…maybe not manifested right away, but it is just a matter of time before that comes out.

Transitioning gender is such a difficult passage.  I am crossing over gulfs that are deemed uncrossable by the patriarchal paradigm of our day, breaking the binary rules that rule minds…and thus offending hearts that have as their central focus and idol what feeds them, sustains them.

Some people simply are repulsed by my transition and write me off in some form or fashion…crazed, demon possessed, or some other judgment of similar ilk, and some people are intrigued enough to draw near with open hearts and minds, and end up at the very least knowing me in a fuller and richer way (and some would say that is a bad thing, those who have judged me as the worst human being on the planet and hold me accountable for every wrong thing in their lives).

But some people would be destroyed by the knowledge of my gender struggles and subsequent journey.  They would hold themselves responsible for my being the way I am, or simply close their minds so completely as to just be caught up in a whirl of panic, fear, and conviction that I am hellbound.  For the rest of their days, there would be a blight cast and a shadow of failure on them (in their minds not mine).

This is the matrix that I consider when I choose who and how I am going to be out.  Now please don’t misunderstand:  I am publicly out, but not ostentatiously so.  I have not yet chosen to come out to my 2 closest immediate family members, or my one closest in-law.  In the case of my in-law, the odds are very heavy that there are only a few more years left here at most, and this person has lived a happy, productive and kind life and is proud of who I am/was in their history and experience.  In the case of my own family members I see each of them so rarely that the news of my transition seems to me to be an unnecessary burden upon them.

I could be wrong…in each case there might be a pleasant surprise of acceptance…but I am not sure about it, and the potential for damage is far greater than the potential for blessing…

…and so silent I remain.

Well…it has become clear that someone intends to out me to these individuals, and all in the name of their own supposed pain and violation, all in the name of “helping others” who grapple with the transition of a loved one.

And it is impossible for me to describe the internal state that this prospect puts me in.

First of all, one of the quickest ways to induce suicide in a transgender person is to rob them of agency regarding who and what they are by outing them.  This is a historical fact and I have posted a lot about that.  Think of the woman who killed herself after Grantland Magazine outed her, just as one very public example.

But second of all, it feels at the core like such a vindictive thing, and full of spite…and worse yet, if I were to protest, well then I would be accused of doing the very thing that this outing will do to me.  I will be accused of being a hypocrite, wearing a mask, living a lie, curtailing the rights and freedom of someone to share their story…etc. etc.

Your right to tell your story ends at the beginning of violating someone else.

Well…Constance, if you go to the beginning post, and make your way thru Grace Notes, you can decide whether or not I am living a lie…

…what I am living is a tragedy.
What I am determined is to be an agent of Redemption, Grace, and Mercy.

Carefully consider how you live…and in all things, be kind.

In sorrow, in hope,
Charissa

Judith Butler on gender and the trans experience

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Judith Butler on gender and the trans experience

Constance, Judith Butler is a very important voice in the rethinking of gender and gender roles, and as such is worth spending some time exploring.

This article is a good introduction, so I am posting it for your opportunity.

Terribly Hard

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I am terribly hard on myself.
Not just too hard.
Terrible.
Hard.tumblr_niy9cbPyuK1sbjyoko1_400I took
a bunch of selfies.
I deleted them.
It was easy.
Too bad I can’t
just delete myself,
right?
Processed with VSCOcamOr…if
not myself
then those
things, each
of them, that
leer in me
lurk in me
rage in me
roar in me
hurt in me
haunt in me
fear in me
fall in me
scream in me
sigh in metumblr_niwvwsMNhV1r20af2o1_1280I could just
point, click, delete
and they would
be goneo-ANXIETY-1-900But then again,
so would I.
Be Gone.

I told you
I am terribly
hard on myself.
Not just too hard.
Terrible.
Hard.tumblr_mws19657NM1t3vrj3o1_540

Octavio Paz: Listen

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Octavio Paz

listen to me as one listens to the rain,
the years go by, the moments return,
do you hear the footsteps in the next room?
not here, not there: you hear them
in another time that is now,
listen to the footsteps of time,
inventor of places with no weight, nowhere,
listen to the rain running over the terrace,
the night is now more night in the grove,
lightning has nestled among the leaves,
a restless garden adrift-go in,
your shadow covers this page.tumblr_nmn59haEjP1qa7gx5o1_1280

Octavio Pas Breaks It DOWN!

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“This is perhaps
the most noble aim of poetry,
to attach ourselves to the world around us,
to turn desire into love,
to embrace,
finally what always evades us,
what is beyond,
but what is always there

– the unspoken, the spirit, the soul.”

— Octavio Paz

The Other Voice:
Essays on Modern Poetry

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You, Me, We

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“There is no “us” and “them.”
Whatever your religion, philosophy, color, ethnicity, language,
or socio-economic class, we are all fundamentally the same.
We all share basic needs for food, shelter, safety, and love.
We all desire happiness and avoid suffering.
Each of us has hopes, worries, dreams, and fears.
Each of us wants the best for our family and loved ones.
We all experience pain when we suffer loss,
and joy when we achieve what we seek.
Each of us share the same image, likeness, and being of God.
Remember this as you walk the everyday paths of life.
Don’t be fooled by the differences you notice on the surface.
Look deeper, and see yourself in the other, and the other as yourself.”
— Jim Palmer

Processed with VSCOcam with t1 preset

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Victor Frankl on Meaning

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We who lived in concentration camps can remember the men who walked through the huts comforting others, giving away their last piece of bread.

They may have been few in number, but they offer sufficient proof that everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms – to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.

image

Do Justice. Love Mercy. Walk Humbly.
Love, Charissa

Dear Reader, I Just Heard You Wondering

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How did I get where I got?  How you got left behind?

You could have come along, if you would have.  You could have called.  You know where I live, you could have come over.

You still can…if you have the courage to.

Or the desire to leave behind useless old ways.

Either way, there is dead weight that must be let go of to come where I am.

I can’t really say it feels like a loss…it more astonishes me than anything else, that relationships I thought were fairly deep and strong had the roots of dandelion fuzz but lacked the ability to travel on the wind.tumblr_noth7qlFGk1r2zs3eo1_400

In Confetti Fields, Scattered

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Related imageOver these beauty-strewn flower fields
my heart overwhelmed at last, it yields
to the clamour and the clash of shields
and bombs bursting in air.

And I imagine how the ghouls
of war and battle grab handfuls
of humans gathered here, like fools
to fight for something there

in those fields,

their hearts snatched cruelly from their chest
thrown up, confetti, and the rest
a bloody mass, the reeling guest
of Death astride its Pale Horse…

But now, the field is strewn with flowers,
confetti fell and by Love’s powers
became Her blossoms and Her bowers
of healing evermore

and never again, please,
never again war
In Confetti Fields,
Scatteredtumblr_n9flnk9Gz31r1vfbso1_1280

In Waters Under The Living Red Sky

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I have noticed a thing
when I am at the edge of creation
(that border between me
and all that is not me)

and my self-knowing
(prison and homeland)
shows me things, creatures
and measureless vistas within.

I have noticed that
a solitary swan never looks alone
while a person can be isolated
in a crowd of a thousand sun-bathers.

That’s when I dive into those colored waves
and look for those swan legs
paddling fast with purpose and poise
beneath what is seen,

under this living red sky.
Related image

Moi Aussi, dearest ones of my heart…moi aussi

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10 things your mother never told you

1. You made her cry.. a lot
2. She wanted that last piece of cake
3. It hurt
4. She was always afraid
5. She knows she’s not perfect
6. She watched you as you slept
7. She carried you for longer than 9 months
8. It broke her heart every time you cried
9. She always put you first
10. She would do it all again

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This War On Us

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Sitting in the morning mist today
(it’s 2 AM.  The battle started
early in whistle-shrieks of
incoming artillery shot
from fear’s cannons
and terror’s trenches.
They tore me out of dreams
into this nightmare waking and real).o-ANXIETY-3-900It’s the day of memory, the day of the dead
(and the living who wish they were)
and the day of me, survivor 
of this war on us, 
waged from mile 
3001.

The sound of sad owls
(like haunts) and elderberry blossoms
(fragrant in the dark) and me inside
a Dresden of memory and fire and sound
and the machine gun prattle of stories
twisting back on themselves in your hands
like snakes striking those wrists
so clumsily tattooed in crude ink and fantasy.slide_426448_5503378_compressedI heard the house creak and groan
(maybe it was just my heart’s hurt moan)
and I swore for a moment I thought
you were there, laying in bed and peace
while your chest rose and fell faithfully
and your face, wreathed in blond curls
that smell like Heaven’s very bakeries
still in sacred rest and repose…

I fought my way back 
and across the years 
to where you lay, then, there
to have but one whiff yet again
of those locks of gold and God
to sustain me in the midst
of this uncanny clumsy conflict,
this war of atrocious inattentiontumblr_nn07a4gD911s0got1o1_1280but your room was empty
(my mailbox is empty)
and it turned out the house
was just grieving for its loss,
the house is empty
and my heart is lonely
and the spray of sorrow begins
to anoint the roof from the skies

and soothes the ache of loss,
the lovelorn lack of presence
and the absence of any laughter.

I never dreamed that you were
the kind of person who just sashays in
and then waltzes right out
of my life while I am
making music in 4/4 timetumblr_nott18g9941rr74i9o1_400but if I really think about it, 
I remember the time you were 
last here and as you left you 
flashed your eyes dark at me,
filled with orange fire that smelled 
like burnt chocolate and you spoke
silently with that glance

straight into my heart, a look that
was a blade slicing thru the music,
(that dissonant dance)
and you said in one glancetumblr_novh5kX5Zr1s5neh1o1_500that you wished my mother had 
had an abortion 
instead of me…

In that moment, the tide turned
in this war on us, and I had
a flash of insight that would 
make Lorenz so jealous:
I knew who the 
Unknown Soldier was
and always would be.304475_10151253739365067_139629285_n

For Elli

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I have become aware that there is some good traffic for older poems/posts.

I also have had the genuine blessing to cross paths with a true friend at distance, but close at heart, my friend Elli.

I have decided that I am going to be re-posting some of my personal favorite old poems, to make accessing them easier for the traffic…but the real reason?

Jus mostly for my friend, Elli…may you find blessing and peace in some of these, and may you always have the faith to await the sunrise, and the courage to lift up your eyes to the mountains…

Love, Charissa Grace

With that…here are two…

Spitting Bones

Many Paths and Peacetumblr_nnlb3pIwX51qaazd8o1_1280

“…Everyone’s Got One”

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An opinion…sometimes I am just walking along, living my life, and somebody just has to give it to me…about who I am, or what I am…about whether I am legitimate, or have a right to be.

I think you have all heard what opinions are like, right?  Something that everyone has that generally stinks.

The First “Contemporary Christian Music” I Ever Heard

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I didn’t even know there was this genre of music, and shortly after Mama did some miraculous things in my life, I heard about this concert of these dudes called “Lamb”…and I was like “what the heck, let’s go”.

Well, I started to cry about 2 minutes in and wept the entire time, just so moved by their down to earth love of God and love of humans.

If you put this on and let it play, I think you will be glad you did…

 

Bird In A Golden Sky

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Constance…in spite of the betrayal, in spite of the abandonment, the lies and distortions…this.

Just.  This.

This is how I feel, like I just learned how to fly.

I am Charissa Grace, and I finally got here.  I really did.

 

Twilight In Lavender

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Your love was inside me
rising, falling, sweeping in over
my dry beaches, rushing out into
my far reaches…

and your arms were all about me
like spring clouds soft and grey
and fat with rain milked from
fountains of the morning dew.

I woke, and there was nothing,
nothing but you…you in my heart,
in my thoughts, you like tides
in my veins.Image result for you like tides in my veins
Here’s what clashes inside me,
like tides and beaches under skies,
clanging loud and clear against crags
midst thunder and silky lightening:

I used to have everything anyone said
was required to be happy and content and yet
I was in despair
for there was nothing of me inside and yet
somehow I was there,
a mute witness to the horror of myself and full
of one long interminable silent scream…tumblr_nlw1naPDJh1sd2kbko1_1280And now?  Now I have lost it all
(except you, dearest one)
and yet gained myself within
and thus find joy unspeakable
midst this storm of tears,
clash of times and loss
of all (even my fears)
and utter failure…

Now I sit in deserts dry
(no oasis in this barren land,
that oasis is become me),
I sit still midst salt and sand
and snakes and smile, because I am
become a meadow here inside,

and poppies dance beneath the breeze
and sway in purple twilight ways,
in this velvet twilight, mmmmm
this twilight in lavenderImage 006

“Everything we see hides another thing,
we always want to see what is hidden by what we see.
There is an interest in that which is hidden
and which the visible does not show us.
This interest can take the form
of a quite intense feeling, a sort of conflict, one might say,
between the visible that is hidden and the visible that is present.”
— René Magritte, speaking about his piece, “The Son of Man”

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I Talk Seriously About God…

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“And when the event, the big change in your life, is simply an insight—isn’t that a strange thing?  That absolutely nothing changes except that you see things differently and you’re less fearful and less anxious and generally stronger as a result: isn’t it amazing that a completely invisible thing in your head can feel realer than anything you’ve experienced before?

“You see things more clearly and you know that you’re seeing them more clearly.

“And it comes to you that this is what it means to love life, this is all anybody who talks seriously about God is ever talking about. Moments like this.”

— Jonathan Franzen, The Corrections

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In Charissa’s Kitchen May 21st 2015

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For my friend Stephanie… Glad our Lord gave death a bad case of indigestion… And then so lovingly served AGAIN!

So too, you serve, you broken for our kids here, like Him…

And the day will come when Rose 🌹 will be the verb past tense when all the past, tense is behind us, beneath us, as He waltzes us home for good.

In friendship, in identification, in love, Charissa

Do Justice. Love Mercy. Walk Humbly.
Love, Charissa

“If That’s The Truth You Need To Live”

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This phrase drives me nuts!!  Because it is usually spoken by someone who thinks themself supportive, and they have no idea how it others me, demeans and diminishes me.

Can you imagine, as a cis-gender person if someone else came up to you and said “Hey, if the truth you need to live is that you are a (fill in the blank), then I am all for it!”

You would just laugh, and think “what an idiot”.  Right?

But with me, when they say this, it is as if they think that they have somehow conferred some legitimacy on me and then posed themself as the paragon of acceptance…

I think next time this happens, Ima just do this:

Tattooed On My Heart

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I have seen some gawd-awful tattoos
Oh, it isn’t the theme so much…
it is the foolishness of letting
a needle that is marking permanence
and making marks that will last forever

be wielded by a clumsy hand,
a hand unloving, a hand unkind
worse, a hand that simply doesn’t care
or even know to care or have a clue
what Tender Mercy is

(on the wings of a snow white dove…)

I am thankful for Their Needle, Their Words,
Their Implacable Mercies that zing
again and again and again
to render marks eternal
indelible on my soul, forever

and rend my skin irrelevant
because They have become
Tattooed On My Heart

No Protest In Philly!!

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OMG Constance!!  Did you hear about the massive protests and riots going on in Philadelphia because of the death of a woman of color???

Yeah…neither did I.

After all…she was only a woman.

A woman of color.

Oh…and she was trans.

Just another piece of trash collected for the patriarchy.  http://www.buzzfeed.com/dominicholden/transgender-woman-stabbed-to-death-in-philadelphia?utm_term=.yfzwq8GpK#.pnOnBKk8L tumblr_no7mu5zPsO1rebxsto1_1280

But while I am on the topic of killing transwomen?  If you slur me with your words…if you other me with your actions…if you lie to yourself about who I am…if you call me “engenderer”, “mask”, “monster”, “other” (a literal “othering”)…

…you do not get to call yourself a trans-advocate.

Words hurt, wound irrevokably…but silence slays the heart.tumblr_mvieqh54sY1qj5oxwo1_1280

That Feast of Friends Awaiting (For My Friend Stephanie G)

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the cold winter snows
of death and separation
fall over the earth
each year, fall over
us all someday.

but look close,
see the nails
in the boards
pried back hard
and away for good

our loved ones
wait on the other
side, where the
grass is truly greener

and He has gone thru
first and waits too
busy building
preparing
a House
a Table

a Feast of Friends
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Only A Smidge Lower…

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Constance…I am here today to admit.  OMG there is sooo much I would change about my body if I could.  The more salient question is what would I not change?  So this really hit me…hit me hard.

What am I supposed to do, stuck in this skin of some biological male creature that so many seem to have attached to, and now hate me because that creature has been revealed as who it was all along…and that revelation happening to me at the same time?

Do you have any idea how it feels to be othered so hard that certain people now act like I am dead?  And when I am blessed enough to have communication it is of the harshest, cruelest and most dehumanizing form possible, stripping me of personhood, of being, and reducing me to a verb, or a mask, or a nothing?

I can never remember a time when I did not feel this way…never.  Reading about these children, wow.
So I post this…for your thought.  Likely there is not much we can do now about our own body image issues…but we darn sure can be kind to others now.  We darn sure can touch our children with gentle words…and no matter what we can speak to other human beings cognizent always that they are stamped with Mama’s image, they are riddled with God’s Image, and are thus just a smidge lower than God and are as gods themselves.

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In case you weren’t convinced that hating yourself is a learned behavior

Physical shame comes from parents, teachers, media, and peers. It’s not something you’re born with. You were born naked, wonderful, and gorgeous, and no one should make another being feel as if that wasn’t, and isn’t true.

Failure and Forgiveness

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There is a brand new recycling of an old, ancient lie told to soothe one’s enflamed ego and sense of being wounded and let down in experiencing the world.

The lie is that there is no such thing as failure, and that as a human being it is impossible to fail another person.

I would laugh if it wasn’t such a tragic and poisonous lie.

But the lie is told for a more basic reason than to just insulate one’s heart against hurt:  the lie is told to free one’s self from the pain of forgiveness, from giving forgiveness and even more important, from receiving forgiveness…

…and those pains are freely paid to avoid confronting the root:  Pride.  I think it likely that Pride is the root of all evils in the world.

At any rate, Desmond Tutu has some very cogent things to say about forgiveness:

“The quality of human life on our planet is nothing more than the sum total of our daily interactions with one another. Each time we help and each time we harm we are dramatically impacting our world.
     As long as we are human, some of our interactions will go wrong, and then we will hurt or be hurt or both. It is the nature of being human and it is unavoidable.
     Forgiveness is the way we set those interactions right. It is the way we mend tears in the social fabric. It is the way we stop our human community from unraveling.”
— Desmond Tutu, The Book of Forgiving

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I Call Bull Sh*t!

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Constance, I reject this notion that is going around these days, as it is stated in the graphic below:

…the part about forget the ones who don’t treat you right, and love the people who do?

Are you f-ing kidding me??  

That stampede of people running the other way?  That is the stampede of people taking the easy way, the low way, the lazy and unloving way, running away from those that they will forget because they “didn’t treat them right”…

Ah.

And who will stand for you?  Because to you, your “bad day”, your “bitchy moment”, your “lashing out in anger to cover up your grief”…??  That is you…not treating other people right, and thus they run away.

Except this stampede is everyone running from everyone else, and so no one runs together…after all, they might not treat you right.

And then we come to the last part…the part about it not being easy…

What in the f-ing hell is so G Dam difficult about running away?  That is the path of least resistance!!

All the world loves Gentle Jesus meek and mild, the kind teacher, the good man, platitudes about him unending…unless you really listen to His Lion Roar Word terrifying.  I dare you to listen to them…right now…and then join me on the front lines in this war of Love on the war on love…oh, and I have heard it said that the only words in the Bible that are trustworthy are the words in Red…and here ya go, oh ye of such courage and fortitude that you will dwell in the strongholds of cold love, words in Red for your imbibing.  

May you become drunk on Love, and reckless enough to find your courage once again.

But I say to you who hear:  Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, and pray for those who spitefully use you.  To him who strikes you on the one cheek, offer the other also.

And from him who takes away your cloak, do not withhold your tunic either.  Give to everyone who asks of you.  And from him who takes away your goods do not ask them back.

And just as you want men to do to you, you also do to them likewise.

But if you love those who love you, what credit is that to you?  For even sinners love those who love them.  And if you do good to those who do good to you, what credit is that to you?  For even sinners do the same.  And if you lend to those from whom you hope to receive back, what credit is that to you?  For even sinners lend to sinners to receive as much back.

But love your enemies, do good, and lend, hoping for nothing in return; and your reward will be great, and you will be sons of the Most High.

For He is kind to the unthankful and evil.  Therefore be merciful, just as your Father also is merciful.

Judge not, and you shall not be judged.  Condemn not, and you shall not be condemned.  Forgive, and you will be forgiven.  Give, and it will be given to you: good measure, pressed down, shaken together, and running over will be put into your bosom.  For with the same measure that you use, it will be measured back to you.

…Can the blind lead the blind?  Will they not both fall into the ditch?  A disciple is not above his teacher, but everyone who is perfectly trained will be like his teacher.  

And why do you look at the speck in your brother’s eye, but do not perceive the plank in your own eye?  Or how can you say to your brother, ‘Brother, let me remove the speck that is in your eye,’ when you yourself do not see the plank that is in your own eye?  

Hypocrite! First remove the plank from your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck that is in your brother’s eye.

For a good tree does not bear bad fruit, nor does a bad tree bear good fruit.  For every tree is known by its own fruit.  For men do not gather figs from thorns, nor do they gather grapes from a bramble bush.  A good man out of the good treasure of his heart brings forth good; and an evil man out of the evil treasure of his heart brings forth evil.

For out of the abundance of the heart his mouth speaks.

But why do you call Me ‘Lord, Lord,’ and not do the things which I say?  

Whoever comes to Me, and hears My sayings and does them, I will show you whom he is like:  He is like a man building a house, who dug deep and laid the foundation on the rock.  And when the flood arose, the stream beat vehemently against that house, and could not shake it, for it was founded on the rock.  

But he who heard and did nothing is like a man who built a house on the earth without a foundation, against which the stream beat vehemently; and immediately it fell.  

And the ruin of that house was great.

Still Underneath

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I see you there, still
underneath your words
underneath your pain
underneath your masks
deep beneath the strain

of putting every thing that hurts
all that grew from choices made
all that sprung from things not done
all that you have fearful run
from and still found it there within

though the darkness haunt you long
I will hover in the song
that I have sung your whole life long
and love the you I see there, still
I see you still…underneath