Letters From Those Abused and Afraid | Disrupted Physician

Letters From Those Abused and Afraid | Disrupted Physician.

Dear Constance…I am blessed with such a plethora of amazing, wonderful followers.

That would be you…Constant Reader…Constance.

One of them is at the link I just posted, and he is a truth teller, more rare than gold dust as an amazing person commented over there.

“But why, Charissa?  Why would you share such a topic as the one you chose?”

Because it is eerily reminiscent of the treatment of transgender people at the hands of…well…virtually everyone in our society.  The double binds that are illuminated, the abuse, the policing and othering, the way the system protects itself and eliminates any possible threats to itself…

Yeah…this is the life of a transgender human being every single livelong day.

The system is a giant virus, and it has gathered to itself other virulent viruses and they all are completely sold out and committed to the mandate of one thing and one thing alone:  survival and self-replication. And we, all of us, are in the belly of this beast.

Some of us are the pilot fish of privilege…circling the jaws, living off the shreds of flesh that trail off those teeth sharp and cruel.  Some of us are between those jaws, ever consumed for the survival of the virus, and some live in the bowels, in the rot and excrement of everything that must take place in order for the thing to keep alive.

How are we to live?

The monolithic nature of this thing prohibits mass action, but what about individual action?  Will you consider changing the way you interact with every single person you meet?  Just think…if we all did that, loved our neighbor as ourselves, loved God (or if you believe you do not believe then loved being kind, being forgiving, being truthful and merciful), and refused to participate in injustice…

…there might be cracks, and then rents, and then in a rush a breaking down of the walls and the death of the virus.

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

 

Across the Rolling Plains of Time

I laugh like summer breezes light and airy
at those cloudy fulminators who, like Old Faithful
blow off sulfurous steam every 75 minutes, or every 75 years,
even every 75 decades (yeah, this tired rant is that old)
and froth and belch all bothered about how Faith
is merely an emotional crutch…(can I LOL in a poem?)Image 002They are clouds who promise rain and then
just blow right on by bone dry, unable to accept
life’s difficulties, they, not I, are needing an escape
to another world, an other-world…i
t almost breaks my heart
in its sad naivety, foolishly blind and blinking hope in nothing.
Almost.tumblr_nig7g4fiat1r44q44o1_1280They call me blind, my faith blind?  When I am someone marked
by an inability to accept (no, an unwillingness to accept)
the cruelties of this world as status quo…

I have taken my raw courage in hand to declare this life marred
is not the way it is supposed to be!  We must live alert, aware we were
created for something so much more, so glad and so beyond!
tumblr_n67g0sLvug1ruhuppo1_500It is the ones who call nothing something, who insist that life
without God is “freeing” and imbibe the fantasy that life
is of no significance and death is even less, who are blind and will
not see…and so they seek to dwell…where…
reassured? With no one
there to hear, to answer, to see injustice done and judge accordingly?

(“Out, out, brief candle!
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.”)

we attempt to dress such naked poor philosophy
in beautiful robes, but in the end we always find
it was all an act upon a barren storefront-stage.tumblr_nnxq6pweYE1sdqemdo1_1280Well, this Christian(neé) does not make her pilgrimage to new abundant life
by way of 
ambulance, sounding sirens on its merry way to some lost fantasy! 
Quite the contrary!  Golden glimpses of new life can be seen even now…
glorious gifts worth searching for 
as if for treasure prized and buried
or silver wink of coins lost in a house long needing a great sweeping…

We can live as people gloriously transformed by the Humility of Christ
Who, Grizzled Bison on the banks of those stinky threatening geysers,
rolls in those flats sulphurous, then gallops off unstoppable
Across the rolling plains of time, across the Rolling plains of time,
across the rolling Plains of time, across the rolling plains of Time.tumblr_mveo5s3wRw1qft4nwo4_1280

Here’s To The Know-It-Alls

…who tell me how they imagine dysphoria is when they are not dysphoric:

Do not mock a pain that you haven’t endured.tumblr_nnsi82SIkm1rmdrr8o3_1280

Bullied Girl Commits Suicide After School Officials Tell Her “Toughen Up”

Bullied Girl Commits Suicide After School Officials Tell Her “Toughen Up”.

Here’s a thought:  how bout each one of you who reads this go to your school board and tell them that if  this sort of thing is tolerated in your school district, you will file civil suit against them as culpable for the death?

How bout you simply say to them you personally will not tolerate anything whatsoever except a no bullying stance?

Or is it to you as it is to so many:  the equivalent of the Aztec hearts held up to appease the angry god of the patriarchy and preserve your own privilege?

Those Razors Bloody

They were laying there on the ground
of my heart, bloody and gore-flecked
and dully glowing with the sheen of life
blood and the thrill of cutting to ribbons
the tenderest places of my heart.

I wrapped them in the ribbons of heart
you left intact, attached at one end
by the tenuous tendrils of flesh that
you either missed, overlooked, or flat out
just didn’t care enough to slash.

I hung those wrapped razors
those razors bloody with me and fading
up on the wall where your picture
used to be, and I straightened them
so they hung just so, and straight…

my mementos remaining of you
and my hopes for a future with you
dripping onto the floor
and then drying out and becoming
a static reminder of a moment
in a dynamic river of our lives.

“It’s A Healthy Little Baby!” (Gender TBD)

So Constance, on Sunday there was a birth announcement.  A child had been born, healthy and mom was okay too.  Everyone was happy and feeling good about a new little life in the world…and then came this:

“It’s a healthy little girl!”  Followed by a smattering of applause and some coos and happy noises…

…and just like that a potential nightmare of dysphoria is begun.

Can you see it here?  First of all, the very first thing we are told about this child is its gender, before anything else.  Everyone wanted to know this, and from this point on, that child is going to be socialized and treated according to cultural customs and expectations that may have nothing to do with who that child really is, and could be quite harmful to the child in that they would run directly counter to the child’s identity.

And we know the child’s gender how?  Why, because we looked between the legs…and now a human being’s first most basic categorizing has been accomplished in the name of genitalia.  Never mind the fact that there are all kinds of intersex conditions that only show up upon chromosomal examination…no need for that, right?

Now…the odds are that this child will turn out to be female.  But those odds are not as long as what everyone thinks.  And just think…if that child turns out to be like I was, and learns that their very being is wrong, is naught and ought not…

Not to mention how I felt, sitting there…in the midst of allies and friends mind you!  Who in all the reflex of the ritual sat there and gendered a human being less than a week old and without even having met the child let alone heard her tell us who she is! They would all say they support me…but it is sadly still a support after a couple of layers of thought and reminding themselves that I am “identifying female”.

And that makes me cry, because I identify as a human being. 

am female.

I get criticized often for being persnickety about words…I get anxious about what people mean and question closely and then feel like I am an irritant when others say that they were not speaking as specifically as I took what was said.

But I am that way because of things like this…when a whole identity has been rendered a done deal without even a word being said by the person thus sentenced.

When will it be natural for us to announce our healthy children, and the great anticipation that we have in finding out who they are?  Think how they would be brought up!  Think how much more balanced and developed they would be.

Oh, and don’t worry…they will tell us their gender.  It is that basic.  You can rest assured of that simply by reflecting on how you would react if someone sought to police you as a gender other than that which you are.

Gender is more than genitalia…when will our understandings of one another be so too?

Until then, I will find myself alone, and sitting embarrased while gender privilege is handed out right and left, and a certain ratio doomed by this policing to join me in the ranks of those of who sit in the pew together…all alone.tumblr_nnzn95pYkG1rznpc8o1_1280

 

When All Seems Hushed (from Samuel Beckett’s “Molloy”)

And that night there was no question of moon,
nor any other light, but it was a night of listening,
a night given to the faint soughing and sighing
stirring at night in little pleasure gardens,

the shy sabbath of leaves and petals
and the air that eddies there
as it does not in other places,
where there is less constraint,

and as it does not during the day,
when there is more vigilance,
and then something else that is not clear,
being neither the air nor what it moves,

perhaps the far unchanging noise
the earth makes and which other noises cover,
but not for long. For they do not account for that noise
you hear when you really listen,

when all seems hushed.  And there was another noise,
that of my life become the life of this garden
as it rode the earth of deeps and wildernesses.
Yes, there were times when I forgot not only who I was, but that I was, forgot to be.

SAMUEL BECKETT, MOLLOYtumblr_no2umtaP1t1sooy9go1_1280

Not A “Sometimes” Girl

I am not a “sometimes” girl
a sometimes thrill or sometimes time.
I am not occasionally
or when you feel like coming round.

I’m not available just now and then
if that’s what you want, well I just grin
and fake it like it’s all the time
but I am gone around the bend.

I am not a kitchen drawer
full of batteries and more
to be wrenched open in your need
and taken from as seed to feed

an image of a self or time
when fullness is a masquerade
for decorating a fat heart
I’m a whole, not just a part.

I guess that means I run the risk
of standing lonely in the dusk
and looking on from the outside
but that’s okay…I turn and ride

knowing I am me and always
all the time an always girlImage 005

This Irony Is Too Good!

Omg…so I just wrote this poem about my hair…about my Cat-Hair (well, maybe it is about other things too…I will leave that to the more energetic of you)…

…and then I saw this quote and literally laughed, just guffawed!!

SHOUTOUT TO CATS
FOR GETTING THEIR CLAWS STUCK IN THINGS
AND THEN WHEN YOU HELP THEY GET OFFENDED
THAT YOU TOUCHED THEIR PAW

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Me and My Cat-Hair

Me and my Cat-Hair go where we want!
Well, my Cat-hair does, anyway.
I just trail frantically, pulled right along
as it wanders and pries and looks into burrows
and lays in the sun and just licks its soft paws
with no care in the world but those mice!

Sometimes it looks really cool, and just perfect!
Purring there, cooing and wanting the touch
of a hand that will smooth its sleek soft furry pelt
and some fingers so friendly with their gentle skritch
skritch skritch and then a flat palm to do obeisance.

But then there are times when my Cat-hair just hisses!
Its eyes glowing green and just brimming with daggers
and it jumps akimbo and arches its back
and it dares me, just dares me to try to address it
with anything less than a rake and a hoe
and better get ready to wrestle a she-devil
scratches for skritches and clawings for pettings!!
Image result for cat clawing arm
My Cat-hair and me are sometimes called names
and sometimes called other and sometimes called mask
and sometimes called liar and sometimes called nothing
and that’s when my Cat-hair sits silent, tail lashing
and eyes focused into the void that is lurking
inside the accusers who say they hate cats
when what they really mean is that they just hate me…
Image result for cat being petted
well, Cat-hair is there, and I cannot do anything
to make it dog-hair or human or cow-hair
or sheep-hair or anything else that would walk
off the Ark on that day when the floodwaters drained
and the animals rambled in freedom again.

so I guess I will just go with Cat-hair, just sitting there
being itself, just my Cat-hair and me.

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Untitled

the way Mama fills the void with light
the way Mama inhabits the space in my friend
the way my friend inhabits the holes in me
the way of Love
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This Singular Grain

These musings, these poems…
tumblr_nne9mnM6TN1qcf24lo1_500
can I even call them that?  Poems?
Do they speak in pregnant words that

once swallowed go into labor
and convulse and contract
until they have birthed a living thing
within you
like a flame
that won’t go out no matter
how the winds blow…DSCN7014like a wolf, sleek and proud
until it is lassoed by some slaver
and thrown in a cage and starved
and forced to feed on its own howls
instead, 
and grows ever skinnier,
ever more vital and
there?

But here is another day,
and my head full 
of thoughts and fears
and feints and faints

and my heart singular
and immersed 
in Them,
Their Presence
with me

(this is what is called “faith”, actually
Their Presence everywhere…
faith is not 
some blind belief

like “it’s all good” or
“everything happens for a reason”
or “things teach you things until you learn things”)
tumblr_mxz0vk09em1s61bq5o1_500

Yeah…They are here
and they are here too,
those thoughts

and those feelings
and more…

these questions
about meaning
and value
and purpose
and significance.
shapeimage_11
When
I light a
bonfire of
branches and twigs too,
and I see the eager orange
hot tongues released from within
and licking those limbs and glowing
with their pleasure so hot and inviting,
I can hear the pop and crackle
of the disappearing of solidity,
the giving up of structure
in exchange for 
release
until all that is left
is ashes

and each branch, each twig
is indistinguishable and one at
last 
in its lost uniqueness.
tumblr_n0cva0Mxad1qlq9poo8_1280
I hear the pop and crackle all around me
and I feel the heat and tug
of straining release and the
chill of ghostly whispers

that nothing matters,

and I wonder
why I
write,

why I
sing these
notes of Grace?
tumblr_n76owu13M41rktvico1_1280Swallow, wipe my tears

bind up my bleeding broken heart
and rise to the day
reminding myself

unless a grain of wheat 
fall into the ground
and die
it remains

alone

but if it dies
it produces much grain

it brings forth much fruit
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Walk On A Spring Evening in May

I walk the gloaming path,
rain-drips fragrant whispering
to leaves, to rocks and kissing
moss with secret snikkle-nips
of spring flower nectar.tumblr_nn9sazLEZ71rv2dfko1_1280the night rises out
of dusky shadows
grown bold as the sun
shrinks first behind her
cloudy veil and then
sheltered behind hills
she drops her gown
to stand unclothed
hidden and revealed
solid and present          (like me)
in the growing dark

and i think about you there
in boulevards of noise and neon
surrounded by staggering solitude,
aloneness in the conflaxity and klaxxon
streets of phony fire.tumblr_nkgasibdcT1sm8q63o1_500

the ferns bend,
wave in winds
and breathe in
my loneliness
as I pass by,
sort of a
photosynthesis
of the heart, of soul,
of sorrow rebreathed
and transformed
into something
less than

and clean.SONY DSC

what was today?
what are these
days strange and
alien to me,
totally same and
labeled other?
totally different
and called
a mask?

but the path,
fresh and baptised
in the cleansing
of the sky
(become the river)
(become my tears)
(become my steps)
the path beckons

and mirth
tamped, banked
whispers from
under leaves
and rain

and wind

“follow, and be amazed.”

so I walk
in the rain,
in the growing
dark of fading day
and happy nighttumblr_n0hj58ZFAz1rrcicko1_1280stars there
behind clouds
waiting to walk
the runways of
my hurty broken heart
gracing each jagged edge
with the light

behind the Rose
behind the sun.

i cry gentle
and I walk on
to the next rising.tumblr_nhs49zgIcw1qzkm8ro1_1280

Serious Question!

Why is someone who is considered an adult, or mature…

…now called “grown-ass”?

I am genuinely flummoxed by this, and absolutely have no idea what that slang even means…

grown ass???

Are you serious?  What does it mean?

Oh, what it signifies is clear…a lot of language now days is mere emoting and signifying, and I decry that, it grieves me.

But I just heard someone who should know better refer to themselves as “grown-ass”.

*the effort to conceal derisive laughter was significant*

tumblr_nnsi5ghQqO1raw451o1_1280

Not Even Columbo

could figure out this riddle
could dissolve this mystery
of your love for me

not his slouchy raincoats
not his glass eye glinting
not his nasty cigar waving

(that wet wad wandering
don’t they all??)

there’s joy in them there hills
and gold in that there heart
that hides from every searcher

except for me
it’s there so certain
so obviously

and no one else
can find it
not even Columbo

burning the insides (For Jane)

i am burning
the insides, today…
for you i am

burning my cleansings
the insides of my veins
the insides of my organs
the hidden, the deepest,
the most secret
places i burn for you,
for your facetumblr_mmr616a1eU1s77uipo1_500you are core inside core
inside me and the day
i chose to be
tattooed inside
by you inside
with you 

was the day
my life was ever
set on high
and rendered ever
always
tumblr_nn950h0iqk1s5neh1o1_1280you see
you remember,
rags of past
times torn asunder
from their loom
where they were
so careful woven
to lay precious
ones under

well i have
made a fire of me
my insides (you)
and see the smoke,
how it cleanses
your self-recriminations
from your lungs
and replaces

them with us
my insides
which are you
pulsing thru me
coursing thru metumblr_nlzw1krAlh1trxee1o1_500like wild horses
in spain
(see their flying manes)
under that rainy thunder sky
while torrents plunge
pelt pungent
onto the plains

so dry
and the smell
of hot rock
so dry
of heated flint
so dry
and flying dust
so dry

struck from sky
by fierce waters fallen
from on high

in our house
in us
we are made
clean in our love

forever.tumblr_lrqx0fAn8a1qmr3yeo1_500the best decision
i ever made was you
in all your icy-fire ways
fiery-ice inside and me
ever entranced and held
ever committed to hold
both nurtured

i’d do it over again,
all again
longer than karma

(see her?
cruel imitation
with her puny wheel)tumblr_mfsuzqZBU01rtcvydo1_500

Transgender Today – Avery Jackson – NYTimes.com

Over 50% of transgender children try to commit suicide by their mid to late teenage years. A large number of them succeed. And the main reason that these children state that they try to harm themselves is the lack of love and support of their family and friends. My wife and I decided that we would much rather have a happy, healthy daughter than a dead son.

via Transgender Today – Avery Jackson – NYTimes.com.

Dynamic Tension! Not “Balance”

I agree with this quote, if you understand that balance is the same as paralysis, because all is at stasis, and nothing moves.

Think about it:  when you walk, when you bike, when you do most anything you place yourself in dynamic tension with being off balance and some sort of motion or momentum or direction.

Right?

Balance has a practical connotation, which means “don’t fall over” or don’t crash and burn”…but the culprit is not “lack of balance” (for balance is actually an illusion)…

The culprit is loss of direction!  And thus one falls over.  Remember!  The right leg must follow the left…the arms must swing in harmonious yet dynamic tension…and the mind must be fixed on the goal, the prize so that the will can empower the legs to move, the arms to swing.

And now for the quote:

Life is about balance. Be kind, but don’t let people abuse you. Trust, but don’t be deceived. Be content, but never stop improving yourself.
Nishan Panwar

So how about this instead:

Life is about dynamic tension. Be kind, but don’t let people abuse you. Trust, but don’t be deceived. Be content, but never stop improving yourself.
Nishan Panwar

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I LITrally Thought This When I Was Young!

In school, I was taught that the word “men” could mean all genders—it was up to the reader to be inclusive with the word in their mind. The word women always just meant women. So maybe men just need to find their path to include themselves every time I say women.
Katherine Bernard, reading Maggie Nelson’s “The Argonauts”

tumblr_nmty5rxo381qlelrho1_1280

Impossibility Concealed

I saw this quote just now…and I want to comment on it afterwards.  Read on:

It annoys me so much when people take advantage of someone’s kindness.

Please note:  if a person is truly being kind, it is impossible to “take advantage”…you have already been given advantage.  Any “taking” involved is just your mental gymnastics performed to justify something within yourself…the mere propping up of an ego-centered and self-oriented world view that fosters the idea that anything good must be taken.

The humiliation of receiving…it is a huge stumbling block for so many, and yet the privilege of being kind can overcome it.

Because kindness is only kindness if it is given with an open hand and a priori of any sort of reaction by the recipient.

How you respond to kindness given says nothing about me and everything about you.

Why not choose and act in kind?tumblr_nht789CcLX1rcq303o1_1280

Sleeping Easier

I am sleeping easier these days
though haunted still by each day’s fading light
and dread foreboding in the dead of night
that clutched my bones and left me in a daze,
I’m detoxing from terror’s ghosty ways.tumblr_my5zjoFFgW1rkpi10o1_1280The fear of sleep walks hand in glove with death.
The fear of not being awake is like
that cloying fear, the fear of
not-being
and who can really ever fathom that!
Because to not-be is to not know breath
or fragrance of red roses on the wind
or deep contented sighs at journeys end
or hearts melded forever with a friend.tumblr_nn8kf3TxQa1qat5pio1_400I used to lie awake at night,
too scared to go to sleep
for sleep was so indifferent,
and yet so sinister, so threatening
cus sleep seemed to be no different than death,
you know?  You’re there, awake, aware
and then you’re gone…not there…

Not moving, not talking,
not thinking.
Not aware.
Not aware

(but there were nightmares in the air
and battles with the most horrific enemy
the world has ever known
as I lay there in my bed….
so still and so unable to move
while trying to fight death
and trying to wake up at last
for good)Image 009

Sleep is that disquieting reminder
of that which we try to deny each day.
For how much of our lives and livelihoods
aim at outrunning death’s finality?
We stock pile emails, push for more
make productivity our shield
against the wrinkles, against time itself,
against the aging
against dying

But now I know that sleep is the reminder
that we all need to remember our beauty
and revere life in its brief brevity…
Sleep can wake us up to what comes after
we fall fast into its steadfast grasp
and death uncoils and slithers like an asp
to sting us with its fearsome fang and clasp
us to its chilling breast and putrid rasp
of its reedy voice doing its duty…tumblr_nn6aqcc62Y1tpu005o1_500

and there, buried in slumber’s cotton arms
we wake forever more to heaven’s charms
and smell the fragrance precious in the air
of dreams more real than this harsh life’s cold cares
of riches more true than the wealth of worlds
and these magnificent words at death hurled:

I Am the Resurrection and the Life
and all who trust in Me, believe in Me
shall live, though that bell toll for thee”tumblr_nnal5jUbT91qat5pio1_500

Someday I’ll sleep for my very last time
I’ll drift into the dark and dread unknowing
and be wrapped in the horror of not knowing
but from this slumber I will finally stir
and death will finally be forced to concur
that I am dancing, finally awake
and yes, the Good Lord came, my soul to take…

See…I am sleeping easier these days
Yes, I am sleeping easier these days.tumblr_nn0gcll5rB1rk1cbbo1_540

Outgrowths of Purposive Grace

You’ve been criticizing yourself for years and it hasn’t worked. Try accepting yourself and see what happens.
Louise Hay

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“Can’t We Just Be Us?”

This.

You’d have two completely different views of the trans movement if you either read all the recent articles, or just the comments on them.

Articles: Tipping Point! Hollywood trend! Rapid change in public understanding & acceptance! We love you!

Comments: Sick, disgusting, delusional, predatory harbingers of utter doom and destruction! Who are also ugly!

If there is a truth, I suppose it’s somewhere between. Trendy monsters perhaps? Loathsome darlings? Delusional seers?

When can we just be us?”tumblr_nnor8qCfSC1qas1mto2_540

Neuroscience and gender identity: This video explains the ‘transgender brain’ – PsyPost

This is a worthy vid…easy to understand, energetic, and not too awful long.

Charissa sez “Check it OUT!”

Wisdom From The Ancients

Seneca writes:

It is not that we have a short time to live, but that we waste a lot of it. Life is long enough, and a sufficiently generous amount has been given to us for the highest achievements if it were all well invested. But when it is wasted in heedless luxury and spent on no good activity, we are forced at last by death’s final constraint to realize that it has passed away before we knew it was passing. So it is: we are not given a short life but we make it short, and we are not ill-supplied but wasteful of it… Life is long if you know how to use it.

You are living as if destined to live for ever; your own frailty never occurs to you; you don’t notice how much time has already passed, but squander it as though you had a full and overflowing supply — though all the while that very day which you are devoting to somebody or something may be your last. You act like mortals in all that you fear, and like immortals in all that you desire… How late it is to begin really to live just when life must end! How stupid to forget our mortality, and put off sensible plans to our fiftieth and sixtieth years, aiming to begin life from a point at which few have arrived!

This…When It Is The Time To Speak

Nothing haunts us like the things we don’t say.
Mitch Albom, Have a Little Faith: a True Story

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Answers In The Storm-Watch

Sometimes, not saying anything is the best answer. You see, silence can never be misquoted.
Unknown

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The Power of Grieving, The Power of Time

I’m pretty sure that all of us have experienced sadness, but I really don’t know if all of us have experienced grief.

I’m talking about that helpless rage that is so great it is calm, so empty that you have never felt so full, and so sticky it seems you can never be expiated.

It comes from the loss of something or someone you were not designed to lose.

You do realise that, don’t you?  Human beings were not designed to experience this sort of relational loss.

Loss is the result of something else that happened to creation due to the way free will was/is decided to be used.

But as with all forms of fracture, God is faithful to bring forth creative answers and counter-creations, in all Their faithful infiniteness…They always have a beauty that will come to you and weld with you and in you, and though the fracture is never “not have happened”, it is somehow made beautiful.

This.

This is the hope, and the glory of God.  They are faithful, each and every time, if you will be patient, hold on, and keep your heart open.

  1. unconditionedconsciousness:

    I’m going to take this from you
    but give this to you instead:
    more space, cleansing tears,
    better questions, compassion,
    pathways to the center,
    maps to deeper wells,
    less distractions,
    blankets of darkness,
    little pools of light under your skin
    where he touched you
    but will never touch you again,
    and holes in your heart
    that nothing but pure love can fill.

    ~ McCall Erickson

57 Things You Can Do to Be a Better Cook Right Now

You don’t need culinary school. You don’t need expensive equipment. You don’t even need that much experience. All you need to be a better cook today is a little bit of knowledge. Or, in the case of this list, 57 little bits.

1. BUY AN INSTANT-READ DIGITAL MEAT THERMOMETER.

The quickest way to ruin a perfectly marbled $25 steak? Cutting into it to figure out if it’s medium rare. Yes, the Thermapen is $95, but four steaks later, you’ve broken even.

2. WRITE IN YOUR COOKBOOKS.

Soup could have used more tomato? Chicken needed ten more minutes in the oven? Make a note of it and you’ll never make that mistake again.

3. MASTER THE QUICK-PICKLE.

Whisk a little salt and sugar into some white vinegar. Pour over thinly sliced raw vegetables. Wait 20 minutes. Eat.

4. GET YOUR KNIVES PROFESSIONALLY SHARPENED.

You may have a steel or a sharpener at home, but once a year, get a pro to revive those knives. Your chopping will get faster, more precise—and, believe it or not, safer.

5. FOUR WORDS TO LIVE BY: CHICKEN THIGH FAMILY PACK.

Chicken breasts are expensive and can get dull after a while; thighs are juicier, cheaper, and more flavorful.

6. TOSS MOST OF YOUR SPICES—ESPECIALLY THAT GROUND CUMIN.

Ground spices die quickly. So give them a whiff—if they don’t smell like anything, they won’t taste like anything. And if they don’t taste like anything, you’re cooking with a flavorless, brown powder.

7. JOIN A CSA.

At a minimum, you’ll learn how to cook kale fifteen ways. At a maximum, you’ll broaden your culinary horizons by finding ways to use up all that fresh produce.

8. REPLACE YOUR NON-STICK SKILLET.

Do your scrambled eggs slide off the pan if you don’t use oil or butter? They should. Might be time for an upgrade.

9. TREAT YOUR HERBS LIKE FLOWERS.

There’s nothing worse than limp herbs. Next time, trim the stems and put the parsley in a glass of water, fit a plastic bag over it, and stash it in the refrigerator.

10. GET A MANDOLINE AND DON’T BE AFRAID TO USE IT.

Want gorgeous scalloped potatoes or perfectly julienned carrots? Buy a mandoline. Are you a scaredycat? Wear a cut-resistant safety glove until you feel comfortable bare-handed.

11. DOUBLE THAT BATCH OF RICE (OR QUINOA, OR BULGAR, OR…)

Having cooked grains in your fridge means that fried rice, pilafs, rice bowls and robust salads are just minutes away.

12. MAKE SURE YOUR WORK AREA IS WELL LIT.

Look, the 40-watt lightbulb in your oven hood isn’t going to cut it. Get a cheap clamp light from a hardware store so you can see what you’re doing.

13. BUY PARCHMENT PAPER.

What else are you going to roast your vegetables on? How else are you going to make quick dinners of fish en papillote?

14. STOCK UP ON SUPER-CHEAP, RANDOM CUTS OF MEAT.

A freezer full of roasted turkey necks and bony beef cuts will ensure you always have what you need to make broth.

15. KEEP YOUR PARMESAN RINDS AND FREEZE THEM FOR LATER.

Remember that thing about super-cheap cuts of meat? Think of rinds as cheese bones.

16. BUY A NEW KITCHEN SPONGE.

Existential question time. If your sponge is filthy and smells, how can you expect it get your dishes clean?

17. PUT THE LID ON THE POT TO MAKE YOUR WATER BOIL FASTER.

Seems obvious, but if you don’t know, now you know.

18. DRY YOUR SALAD GREENS USING A KITCHEN TOWEL.

Salad spinners? So bulky and annoying. Instead, pile your just-washed greens into a clean dish towel, gather it by the ends, and swing that sucker around until your salad is dry (or your arm is tired).

19. SAVE THE SCHMALTZ.

Chicken fat is amazing stuff, whether you’re frying onions in it, sautéing greens in it or spreading it on toast. So after eating your roast chicken dinner, drain the now-cooled liquid fat into a plastic container and store it in your freezer. (Pro tip: This also holds true forbacon fat.)

20. USE A GARBAGE BOWL.

Hat tip to Rachael Ray. Buy a large bowl and keep it at the ready to fill up with egg shells and other trash generated while cooking.

21. BUY A NEW Y PEELER.

Like anecdotes about high school football games, peelers get dull, especially after a couple years. We recommend the Kuhn Rikon Swiss Peeler, which is just seven bucks.

22. FIND THE BIGGEST MIXING BOWL YOU CAN AND BUY IT.

You cannot toss a salad or mix cookies or make meatballs in a tiny cereal bowl. All you can do is make a bigger mess.

23. AVOID EVIL GLASS CUTTING BOARDS.

And they’re all evil. Glass cutting boards send shivers down your spine when you use them. They dull your knives. They’re slippery. And they’re hard to use. Use wood, bamboo or plastic instead.

24. BUY TWO LOAVES OF THAT AWESOME BREAD AND FREEZE ONE.

Bread keeps really well in the freezer. And there are always plenty of uses for it. Just remember: Air is the enemy! Wrap that loaf in foil (sliced or unsliced) and put it in a freezer bag before stashing.

25. STOP CROWDING YOUR PANS.

Food that’s crowded into a cast-iron skillet or sheet tray gets steamed—and soggy—instead of crisp.

26. TOAST YOUR SPICES…

A quick stint in a dry skillet over medium heat wakes dry spices up and releases their oils, which means your paprika will taste a lot more paprika-y. Use whole spices, watch the pan like a hawk, and stir constantly until the spices are fragrant, then transfer to a plate to cool before using.

27. …AND YOUR NUTS.

“These nuts are too crunchy,” said nobody ever.

28. …AND ALSO YOUR GRAINS.

It’s the first step to building roasty, warm flavor. (Using quinoa? Toast it before you rinse it.)

29. SEASON (SOME OF) YOUR VEGETABLES WITH SUGAR.

Carrots, squash, tomatoes—these vegetables have a natural sweetness that’s enhanced by a dash (just a dash!) of sugar.

30. DON’T BE AFRAID TO SET OFF THE SMOKE ALARM.

Especially when cooking meat. Smoke equals char, and char is delicious.

31. PUT A DAMP PAPER OR KITCHEN TOWEL UNDER YOUR CUTTING BOARD.

That way, your board won’t slip around as you chop.

32. WHEN A RECIPE CALLS FOR CHOCOLATE CHIPS, BREAK OUT A BAR OF CHOCOLATE INSTEAD.

Chopping your own chips creates pockets of melty chocolate throughout your cookies—some small, some large, all delicious.

33. SALT YOUR SALADS.

It adds texture. It makes the dressing pop. It’s proof that there’s nothing—nothing—you shouldn’t be salting.

34. COOL YOUR FOOD BEFORE PUTTING IT IN THE FRIDGE OR FREEZER.

If you don’t, the temperature in the refrigerator will rise. And the only thing that benefits is mold.

35. DON’T TOAST YOUR TOAST. FRY IT.

Warm some butter or olive oil over medium-high heat. Lay in bread and fry until golden on both sides. Sell your toaster.

36. BUY YOUR AVOCADOS AT A MEXICAN GROCERY STORE.

Those are the stores that sell them ripe.

37. ALWAYS KEEP LEMONS IN THE FRIDGE.

They’ll keep longer that way, so you’ll always be able to add fresh lemon juice to everything from dressings to cocktails. Plus, you can use the squeezed rinds to clean and deodorize your wooden cutting boards.

38. CARAMELIZE MORE ONIONS THAN YOU NEED TO.

A lot more—you’ll use the extras in omelets and sandwiches; on chicken, steak and pork; in pastas and stews.

39. GET A MICROPLANE.

Sick of shredding your knuckles instead of cheese? Buy a Microplane, which will provide years of shredding power for about $15.

40. SWITCH TO METAL MEASURING CUPS AND SPOONS.

Plastic warps over time, making them less precise.

41. STORE SALAD GREENS IN A RESEALABLE PLASTIC BAG WITH A PAPER TOWEL.

The towel is there to absorb moisture, which keeps your greens crisper, longer.

42. FIND (AND BUY) PROFESSIONAL-GRADE KITCHEN TOWELS.

Oh look, we just found them for you.

43. SOFTEN YOUR BUTTER…

Serving it cold and hard on toast—on anything, really—is the one way to make butter bad. (Need it soft in a hurry? Here are four ways.)

44. …AND MIX SOMETHING INTO IT.

A little shallot, some chopped herbs, maybe some lemon zest—boom. You just made compound butter.

45. MICROFIBER DISH-DRYING MATS ARE BETTER THAN DISH RACKS.

So is a decent dish towel. Who has space for a dish rack?

46. BUY BROWN SUGAR AS YOU NEED IT, IN AS SMALL A QUANTITY AS POSSIBLE.

The stuff just doesn’t keep very long.

47. BUT IF YOUR BROWN SUGAR IS ROCK-HARD, DON’T THROW IT OUT.

Revive it with a minute or so in the microwave.

48. ESTABLISH A SALT BOWL.

Having a stash of salt always within arm’s reach when you’re at the stove is the first step to better seasoner (see tip 57).

49. BAKE PIES IN GLASS PIE PANS.

It heats more evenly than tin, and when your pie is perfectly golden-brown everywhere, you’ll know it.

50. OIL, SALT, ROAST—IN THAT ORDER.

When roasting vegetables, toss them in oil, then season them with salt and pepper and toss again. This way, the seasoning actually sticks to your food.

51. KEEP YOUR VEGETABLE SCRAPS.

Toss fennel fronds, carrot ends and other vegetable scraps into a resealable plastic bag you keep in the freezer. When you reach critical mass, make vegetable stock.

52. MAKE YOUR OWN CROUTONS.

Toss cubed bread on a rimmed baking sheet with oil, salt, pepper and whatever other tasty thing you fancy. Bake at 350, tossing once or twice, until golden brown. Now see if any actually make it to your salad.

53. AIR-DRY YOUR CHICKENS.

After you’ve unwrapped and rinsed your bird, pat it dry, salt it generously, and let it stand in the refrigerator, uncovered, for a few hours before roasting. The bone-dry skin will cook up to a crackly, crunchy, golden brown.

54. PEEL GINGER AND KEEP IT IN THE FREEZER.

Not only will it last longer, it will grate it more easily.

55. MARINATE YOUR CHEESE.

Mozzarella, feta, and fresh goat cheese? Delicious. Mozz, feta and goat cheese marinated in olive oil, chile flakes, and fresh herbs? More delicious.

56. BUY A BETTER ICE CUBE TRAY.

The ice cubes that come out of the dispenser in your fridge? They’re watering down your cocktails. Cubes made in silicone ice trays are denser and keep your Bourbon cold for hours (or, you know, however long it lasts).

57. TASTE—AND SEASON—AT EVERY STAGE OF COOKING.

Because if you wait until the end, it’s probably too late.

In Mama’s Sweet Relief

Those
broken shards,

*scream*

those brittle,
bright blasted shards

jagged and hungry and
so shockingly absent.tumblr_nnor8qCfSC1qas1mto3_1280

They yawn with full belly
and ravenous soul 
for more
death, more hurt, more

*unlife*

but I have them
in my sights, now.

I shall throw me down
on my sister’s wounds

I shall bleed my heart dry
with balm from Gilead 
and
I shall cry out
in constant consolation
from her inward partstumblr_nmp67xbYpb1t0vssco1_500

while our
Strong Soldier Sisters Stand
round about us 
outside and ringed
in winged-woman-might

and tender hearts

so knit,
so tight.tumblr_nnor8qCfSC1qas1mto5_1280

And in
your death place
I find
life transcendent

And in
my own
your laugh rings
so 
resplendent

we will survive
our screams,
our tears,
our grief

and rest together
in Mama’s Sweet Relief.tumblr_nn8kf3TxQa1qat5pio1_400

On Purposive Grace

Dear Constance…

Transition is the most incredible, revealing, testing and purifying crucible I have ever been in.  It has taken every single area and facet of my existence into its cruelly loving, True Arms.  Spiritually, mentally, emotionally, and physically.  It is revealing who I am and always have been, it is consuming who I was not and never was, and it is catalyzing all that I was/am/will be in that growth process that goes on throughout life.swamp or skyThe greatest gift it has given me, though, is the gift of being…and knowing that I am a co-author of this being, in ways that I previously had no arms and legs to embrace and carry.  I also lacked a deeper awareness of just how little the leviathan gravity of the past chains me to itself, and how much that same past grounds me in my choice of who I am today, tomorrow, the next day, and the rest of my days…

I have received the gift of Purposive Grace.  Let me explain.baloons_ii_by_photoyoung-d7eu7gpSo in the last 6 months, it has been shown to me very clearly that my experience of the last 31 years is totally divergent from that of other people in my life during this time.  Words have been spoken to me, around me, about me that were/are very destructive, vitriolic, hateful, angry, cold, sarcastic, condescending, judgmental, derisive, and crushing.

Words from people that I think the world of and have endeavored with all of my might to love, sacrifice for, serve, and encourage.  I had thought that in spite of imperfectness, I had done a faithful job in this…

…I have discovered that their experience was utterly other and that I am perceived as the most abusive, controlling, hateful, distant and absent person in their experience.  I have been named things that hurt so deeply that I just went numb for a few days and then finally the indescribable pain was actually a relief because I knew that I wasn’t dead.

In short, it seems that I have been a complete and utter failure in every way and everything that I had as my guiding vision for how to live, and that is that, game over…see you, wouldn’t wanna be you.

Add in the other experiences come my way since I chose authenticity over mere existence, those wonderful accusations of being demon possessed, in rebellion towards God, back-slidden, a sexual deviant, etc. etc. and you have the sum total of the majority viewpoint of who and what I was and am.tumblr_nbvqn4ihM11r2tlvoo1_500But:

…my own experience of this time was very different than what I am hearing now, and it is in this disconnect that my sanity and my soul was truly tested and put into the fires of refinement.

I have asked myself:  what is my mission in life, my own self-defined, self-desired one true and central throbbing purpose?  Is that changed or different?  The answer is no!  I am still me, and I took the name Charissa Grace because of this vision/purpose/passion!!

Yielded vessel, yielding blessing.Image 002Since I was a young child, I have had a 3-fold prayer that I have never stopped praying, though I have many times had reason to regret it due to the pain and suffering that have followed it in the preparation for its reality.

1.  I freely chose to give up my free will as my one and only true gift of love to God…it is the only thing that I have that is mine and mine alone that no one can control or take, including God…so I reasoned that it was the most valuable thing I had to give Them in order to show Them my love and gratefulness.  That has been since I was about 9 years old or so…

…the choice to have no choice but belonging to Them.tumblr_nnm1y998sv1tzp41vo1_12802.  I asked Them to please let me be a real christian, and what that meant to me was that I wanted to live out the reality of being the most gracious and kind, most tender encouraging, gentle-hearted, faithful and patient person I could be.  I wanted to truly live out loving my enemies, living a sacrificial life in joy (not that supercilious martyr-spirit sanctimony), being enthusiastic, being kind…always kind, and giving grace out as if it were as plentiful as the sands of the Sahara rather than so rare and precious as the most valuable pearls.  I wanted to truly forgive everything and do so with the power to enable grace preeminent in a person’s life afterward.

“With the measure you use to measure out, so shall it be measured out to you.”
“You will be forgiven in the same manner that you yourself forgive.”

Those words haunted me then…and do so now as well.  God knows how badly I screw up…everything.

*Sick, rueful chuckle*…God knows, and so do I, now…it seems that I have totally and completely utterly destroyed the lives of those whom I would die for without even a flinch…

…so you can see my deep awareness of the need to be forgiven, the utter necessity of grace for me…

…that is what my prayer to be a real christian meant/means.tumblr_nnor8qCfSC1qas1mto6_12803.  I asked if I could know a true death to self and alive-ness to God.  I took Philippians 3:8-14 as my life verses, understanding the “fellowship of His Suffering” to be that daily embrace of death to self, so that one day I could honestly say “it is no longer I who live, but Jesus who lives in me!”tumblr_nmunmqYryk1s4uwt4o2_r1_540So, all that…and now today, in the ashes of the reports about who and what I was, am and was thought to be…

Has anything changed, regarding my future?
Is there anything I can do to change the past?
Most important, do the experiences and judgments of others define me? Or do I retain the power to define myself and determine my own being in the midst of the future’s yet to be revealed manifestation?

The answer, of course, is that the words and deeds of others ultimately have no bearing on who I want to be.tumblr_mv7vftNPCz1qa7ch8o1_1280Thus:  there are 2 different possibilities:

A.  I was completely guilty of every last accusation.  I was an utter failure.
B.  I was essentially who and what I thought I was, and given the fact that no one is without error and flaw I am not guilty of what I am indicted of.

I am confronted with a choice of what to do…how to respond, how to live, how to not respond and not live…and it is clear to me that my original 3-fold prayer and my current life mission statement are still viable and legitimate!tumblr_nfgcg51qPS1rktvico1_1280

If  “A” is true, then my daily quest is to learn from that bankrupt experience and use it as a platform to be a different person:  to be

“the most gracious and kind, most tender encouraging, gentle hearted, faithful and patient person….truly live out loving my enemies, living a sacrificial life in joy (not that supercilious martyr-spirit sanctimony), being enthusiastic, being kind…always kind, and giving grace out as if it were as plentiful as the sands of the Sahara rather than so rare and precious as the most valuable pearls…truly forgive everything, and do so with power to make grace preeminent in a person’s life afterwards.”

If “A” is true, I have lost for the rest of my days in the earth the most important and truest treasures of my very marrow…and so that loss and pain shall become fuel to purpose to forever be better to others and give to them what I failed to give in spite of my highest and best efforts to my deepest hearts…that loss and pain shall make me tender and kind, and utterly forgiving of all wrongs, for God knows how deeply I stand in need of forgiveness.tumblr_nnnwmhw1rz1sooy9go1_500If “B” is true, then I am dealing with the complex combination of intersecting vectors involved with the becoming of other people and their lives chosen and lived out daily…and I have the greatest opportunity any human being can be given:  the power to disappear wrong and hurt and cold love!  I have the chance to “bear all things, believe all things, hope all things, endure all things…”.  The chance to discover a true love, and live out the fulfilment of my 3-fold prayer.tumblr_nf52qzXAV11r7huino1_500

Constance, have you noticed anything yet?

In either case, the past is past and has no power to keep me from the future I choose for myself!!

There is nothing…nothing…that I can do to change, undo, redo, do the first time when it comes to the past!

But there is everything I can do in terms of going forward.

This is Purposive Grace.  The things others think or say do not define who I am and want to be.  I do.

And thus I chose to be…Charissa Grace.tumblr_nnofle8uAU1r4or01o1_1280May everyone who reads this understand this is the true meaning of my name:  it is a promise of a hope and a future, and an undying commitment to choose God always, die to myself, and be a real christian who looks like Jesus.

My love always and ever, Heart, if you ever read here…ever.

Just know there is already forgiveness and welcoming heart, and utter commitment to giving what is in my power to give.  Of course I am aware of your “aught against me” and I am utterly committed to taking responsibility for every wrong action, every action undone that should have been.  But should it ever come to it, you never ever need to revisit any word spoken that you may later regret.  It is already heard, received for what its heart cry was, sucked dry of all that is good and discarded into the seas of forgiveness for all that was other than good.

I love you always, and remain the one who treasures you for you and you alone, not anything you have done or did or not done or did.tumblr_ni39czWKdg1r1arpmo1_1280

Constance…how about you?

How do you choose to live?  What hold will you allow the past on you?  What vision will you grip and be gripped by?  Please join me in this quest towards a life lived in Purposive Grace…ya never know:  there could be miracles ahead!tumblr_mtt54zi0Kp1s873vmo1_500

Do justice.  Love mercy.  Walk humbly.
Charissa Grace

ESPECIALLY with transgender people…

You shouldn’t point out things about people’s appearances if they can’t fix it in ten seconds.
Something my sister said once, that’s become an important thing to me

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How To Support A Transitioning Loved One

How To Support A Transitioning Loved One.

This.

Soo simple, really, and worthy of applying to everyone you meet, at the core of it.

 

Say On, Maya!

There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.
Maya Angelou, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings

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