This Generation is Floundering against all Odds

When I was growing up we knew right from wrong, at least in our own household. Our “standards” were expected to be kept even when we were away from home. These values were black and white. You didn’t steal other people’s property. You worked hard to get what you wanted. You didn’t cheat on a test or in a game. You told the truth or you suffered the consequences. Your word was your bond. My sisters and I headed into the future grounded by a strong foundation and internal principles.

By the time my own children were in public school, these absolute truths were changed and disavowed. All of a sudden values were different for different folks. What one person valued may be another person’s nemesis. Truth became personal and more difficult to define. There were flexible rules and a stigma placed upon thousands of years of proven behavior. There was no foundation to rest upon except in the empty churches that were diminishing in number.

Traditions were frowned upon, unless they were just for fun or to draw people together. History was mocked, defamed, and changed. The people of the past were no longer revered and remembered. Their principles were considered out of date and old fashioned. Documents and books that had served us well in the past were now ignored and efforts were made to alter them or abolish them altogether.

People who in former days would have turned to God for strength began to turn to substance abuse and addiction to get them through. The unprincipled and the unbelievers hearkened to the loudest and most popular voices for information and guidance. What happened was a total upheaval of the infrastructure that had kept society in check.

The educational system celebrated their new-found freedom to bend and manipulate young minds. What they reaped we now experience as we watch America’s value system and Constitutional principles crumble around us. The future is unknown and terrifying. Those who believe in the Bible, the Word of God, see it as fulfillment of Prophecy. Every chapter, every verse leads up to these perilous and predicted times.

The hand writing is on the wall. When you ignore your past moorings, you are doomed to failure. God is the same yesterday, today and tomorrow. His unchanging Word speaks to our hearts in this present day. Without faith we can do nothing.

We are living in a time of confusion and apostasy. By trusting in our own made up priorities and values, we cut off the source of all truth. In our arrogance, we figuratively trust in the arm of weak flesh. We put our faith in dead idols that can neither hear us nor see us. We light candles to unknown Gods and are consumed with our own lusts. We have become a degenerate nation filled with our own self-importance and intellectual prowess.

I for one like the winds of change I see ahead of us. There is still hope in America if we turn our hearts away from vain pride and evil corruption. Let us open our hearts and minds to things eternal. Our choices define us. Our choices will also condemn us if we fall from the Grace that is offered to us freely and lovingly. It is never too late to come home to the Father and God who made us all.

Is Truth Uncertain and Precarious or is it an Absolute Certainty?

“Sea Swirls” 24 x 18 acrylic on wrapped canvas

Like me, you may still be in shock at the mass shooting in Orlando. Another terrorist decided who should live and who would die. He played judge and jury using a twisted ideology that believes in a God who commands his followers to maim and murder in order to prove their devotion to him.

Faith is a precious thing when it’s focused on truth and goodness. Whether you’re a non-believer or a doubter, just because you have an opinion or a belief in something doesn’t make it true. Truth is based on evidence, the testimony of others, and recorded history. Faith is a personal witness that confirms the truth in one’s heart. The evidence of faith is a changed life. Yes, I know. It’s complicated.

One young man who wanted to help in the chaos of Sunday’s massacre said it best. “I saw this guy who had just come out of the Club. He was in shock and injured. I told him I wanted to help. Although, I’m not a religious person, I felt like praying for him. I asked God to bless him that he would be all right.”

“Sea Nymph” 24 x 18 acrylic on wrapped canvas

It is natural to turn to our creator, father and God in times of need. How sad that we wait for an emergency or death to talk to Him in prayer. Imagine the tragedies that could be averted if we would stay connected to our source of strength. What a difference this could make in our chaotic and dangerous world.

Like those people who were shot and killed, their lives snuffed out in an instant, you never know when your time will come. Whether you believe in God or not has nothing to do with the actual facts. You will meet God face to face when your life ends. Will you be ashamed, afraid, or filled with joy?

We each have only one life to live. We don’t get a “do-over” or a second chance. This is it!  If you knew for certain that there is a God and that He loves you completely and unconditionally, would that change the way you live and behave toward others? Would you rather believe in a God of forgiveness and love than a God who is pleased when you murder anyone who doesn’t think or act the way you do?

The mass shooting was horrific and senseless. Perhaps it will jar the rest of us from our complacency. Life is precious. We should not waste a moment of it or allow arrogance or pride to convince us that we have all the answers.

You can believe in a purple hippopotamus if you want to, or behave in unspeakable and hateful ways, but that doesn’t make your way of life or your faith true. If you choose, you can follow the majority to your death. You can follow a way of life because “everybody else is doing it;” but that doesn’t make it right or true.

Like the young man outside the club who felt compelled to pray for the injured gay bartender, even though he’d probably never done it before and wasn’t sure to whom he was praying. The “God of heaven and earth and all things that in them are” called out to him and would gather all of us “under His wings” if we but  believed on his name and hungered for his truth and righteousness.

“Sea Breeze” 30 x 24 on wrapped canvas

Truth is not relative as some would have you believe. Truth is absolute and certain, and only comes from the God of truth and love when you are prepared to receive him. You must seek truth and listen in earnest for the whisperings of God’s Holy Spirit.

You and I are not called to judge or to bring condemnation to others. It is for us to heal the brokenhearted, bring comfort to those who are hurting, and leave the rest in God’s hands.

“The Road Less Traveled” is Sometimes the only Way

“Looking Outward” 3-D painting in an actual window frame

My life has taken such twists and turns, I scarcely recognize it. Events and circumstances have turned out differently than I expected. I made choices that changed the direction I was going, the people I interacted with, and caused a complete 1-80 transition from my familial and spiritual beginnings.

I once had visions of me herding a bunch of “grands” and living near my own children so that I could enjoy the fruits of motherhood. As it is, my six children and their children are scattered to the far winds. They rarely if never take vacations where I live. I manage a few trips, but because of their numbers it’s usually only once every three years or more that I see any one of them.

“Day Dreams” 11 x 14 oil on canvas

They inherited my aversion to telephones, so we don’t talk as often as we should. But thank goodness for Facebook and email or I’d never learn a thing about who they are and what they do.

One of my children hasn’t spoken to me since he left to live with his father at age 15. I expected that he’d get over it in time, but he hasn’t. He now has two children (one I only heard about from his sister). I saw the first one when she was only one years of age, and then again at three. Now she’s somewhere between eight and ten years of age, and she doesn’t even know me.

I’ve traveled long and far. My journey has been difficult and painful. The peace I’ve found along the way has been hard-won. The missing pieces in my life leave a large hole that only my children can fill.

“Through her Eyes” sketch of live sitter

When I titled my blog “Artwork and Musings from my Dancing Heart,” I truly meant that because down deep inside, I’m an optimist. But in the normal course of living, for all of us, there is a wearing down, day after day, and it’s bound to have an effect.

In my first marriage, whenever I was “up” my husband was “down” looking sad and morose. When he could ignore me or bully me into a corner that’s when he’d feel the control he needed to breakout into a smile and dance around with pleasure. For some strange reason, my playfulness and laughter was his nemesis.

If I was happy that meant I had something over on him. Perhaps I’d spent too much money. Maybe I wasn’t burdened down with the cooking and the cleaning for our large family. If it was too easy for me, then I probably wasn’t doing my job. For whatever reason, we were never on the same plane of joy or the same wave length.

“Moody Blues” mixed media on canvas

Today our pathways seldom cross. When they do it’s usually for a wedding or special occasion. Then he’s on his best behavior. He smiles and interacts with the children in a demonstrative way I never saw when we were together. His current wife and he seem to have “the perfect” relationship.

But when the festivities are over his facade dissolves into the sad and empty expression that I remember. It doesn’t reveal itself too often. The smiley face is the mask he wears to deal with the world. I hurt for him. I would love to see peace and contentment spread over his face as a permanent fixture not just when other people are present.

“Namesake” acrylic on canvas

We all wear masks at times to hide the humanity we’re ashamed to show to those we don’t know. It’s important to have a close confidante you feel comfortable with so you can vent some of that anger and resentment. My release came from an art teacher and her weekly class. When I was involved completely in painting, I was in another sphere; free, alive and soaring. I forgot about my problems. My deep sadness slunk into the shadows, and the weight lifted from my shoulders.

Today I don’t regret that twisted rocky path I traveled on to get from there to here. Sure the sadness lingers, memory doesn’t wipe the slate clean. My journey has brought me to a place of confidence and well-being that was not possible in my former life. I took the path “less traveled, and that has made all the difference.”

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth; 5

Then took the other, as just as fair
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that, the passing there
Had worn them really about the same, 10

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back. 15

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference. 20

By Robert Frost

Interludes of Happiness are the Underpinnings that Strengthen the Soul

“Americana” acrylic on canvas

Just when you think your life is on an even keel, something or someone wipes the gloat off your face and you’re down. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in life it’s this: Change is inevitable. Unpredictability is the norm.

The in between times when love seems never ending, when peace pervades your universe and you think nothing can go wrong that’s just when it does. Those prime times are short and fleeting. They come and go like breathing in and out. They arrive just before or shortly after a crisis.

Make the most of these tender moments because they never last. They are what memories are made of when we have nothing else to live for. These heavenly highs help relationships weather the uneven tides of emotion and anger. They give life zest and nourish a heavy heart.

“Kindred Spirits” 30 x 24 mixed media on canvas

Think of these pleasant pauses, these cherished nanoseconds as seeds. They can’t be saved or stored except in memory; but they can reside within us and provide a web of interconnecting fiber that can give our life structure and continuity. These interludes of happiness “relieve the darkness of the past and the gloom of the present.” (C.H. Spurgeon)

Like a flickering light in the gloom of darkness, these seeds of joy gives us hope, sustain us, and keep our feet planted on solid ground even when all of life is crumbling around us. This kind of strength is what makes heroes out of common men. When a tragedy happens, they respond. They just do it, never thinking about the risks to their own mind or body nor their inhibitions and weaknesses.

Human capacity is never fully tested on this earth. Knowing that somewhere within us is the action needed to meet our convictions is reassuring. Manufacturers and engineers know all about tensile strength when it comes to machinery and materials. Tensile strength is all about the ability to be stretched or pulled out of shape before breaking. Even though human beings are not machines, they are still resilient and capable of super human fetes when necessary.

“With These Hands — Wonder” oil on canvas

These seeds of hope, faith, happiness and joy that grow to fruition within us make us stronger, more teachable, and more bendable. This ethereal structure helps us to endure sorrow, pain, anger, hatred, envy or the loss of a loved one, the failure of business or marriage. This foundation is what helps you get up when you fall, and why you take one step after another even though you don’t feel like walking or going anywhere.

Savor the good times. Remember them in the bad times. Make more of these moments every chance you get. This is the web or safety net that will give you courage when you need it the most and the resiliency to hold on a little longer when your heart is breaking.

“Sea Swirls” 24×18 acrylic on canvas

Change comes to all of us. Nothing stays the same. Ride the waves, my friend. Your life’s journey will sometimes lift you up and at other times slap you down in the grit of despair. Don’t give up in the heat of the moment. Coast and surf until you gain some traction. You will survive.

(This blog was delayed by the unforeseen, but it also gave me my subject matter.)

Rescue Dogs are a Hot Item on People’s Heart List

Madison discovers a “puppy mill”

We rescued several dogs over the years. They brought us both joy and frustration. Our friends and neighbors love to show-off theirs. I’ve seen bearded collies, Italian miniature greyhounds, Scottie dogs, and a Bichon_frise named Max that has turned from a cuddly white pup to an aged 16 year old.  His owner’s can’t bear to put him to sleep as long as he seems happy.

They soften his food with water so he can gum it. His teeth are almost gone and his tongue hangs out side-ways for lack of support. Max is almost blind and he chews on his paws and toenails until his white fur is stained with blood. He has arthritis in his back and is not long for this world. They care for him ignoring his diminished strength and beauty. My dear friends that is love!

Amelia with rescue dog “Bella”

Would that we had so much love for the human babies that are conceived in today’s world. In Los Angeles recently, a newspaper photo showed an abandoned infant that the Sargent had placed in a desk drawer using it as a bed. The innocent child slept peacefully unaware of neither his negligent mother and father nor the uncertain future he faced.

Wouldn’t it be great if we had parents out there who would joyfully accept these unwanted children as readily as they do rescue animals that need our care and concern? Instead we throw them away as easily as we do our recycling discards. We ignore their pain, their slaughter because the current law has made it acceptable. They’re suctioned out, chemically burned or torn out; their precious gifts and talents lost to mankind.

“Broken” mixed media on canvas; SOLD, but prints available

I’m hoping the next generation will realize its loss. Many more single mothers are now raising children so acceptance is gaining. “The worth of souls is great in the eyes of God.” Thank goodness we no longer shun these mothers or their children. In the past they would have become “outcasts of society.” I would hope that life could be cherished once again and given its proper distinction as the hope of the world. I wish society would open their arms and welcome these infants into the world.

Children are precious and should be treated as such. If they were treated with the respect and dignity they deserved, they would never become the victims of sexual predators or callous parents.

I was at a wedding celebration this weekend. Curly topped toddlers and gangly children danced with the grownups on the granite floor. The Norwegian bride had married a Hispanic immigrant. Her aunts and uncles had adopted other immigrant children. A close friend had come from Nepal. He had married a Japanese girl and their two children reflected the beauty of both cultures.

All were related in some way and yet visually different. The love was strong, The shared happiness was obvious as everyone there and their friends and relatives mixed together and laughed, sang, and “jived” to the music. My own grandchildren are part Korean, my second son having married a Korean girl.

People hope and pray for world peace. They want to embrace other races and nationalities (in theory); and yet, they sometimes crucify their own in the name of convenience or lack of money.

This weekend I saw a glimpse of what could be. As we celebrate the “Prince of Peace” during this upcoming holiday season, let us reach out and embrace a neighbor, a friend, a parent, a stranger. Let us cherish and celebrate life. Let hope reign in every heart!

We are all in this Pot of Stew Together

“Does this hat make me look fat?”

When a group of mothers get together, the audible sound bytes will likely include chatter about the perils of giving birth and raising children. Center stage is the person who had the longest labor and delivery or whose birth canal sustained the most damage.

Of course, I’m long past that stage of my life, but the memories linger on. Today I reminisce watching “Call the Midwife: a Memoir of Birth, Joy, and Hard Times” on PBS. Based on the memoirs of Jennifer Worth a nurse and midwife in post war London in the 1950s, the show is a delightful stroll down memory lane.

Even husbands are in awe watching live births actually happen on screen. Eyes tear up as each infant takes in its first breath and wails that familiar newborn cry. Mothers forget their pain. Midwives are reinvigorated with purpose as the intertwined plot reveals the seedier side of life in London’s urban squalor.

“Broken” prints available

Almost as popular as Downton Abbey, another PBS favorite, viewers discuss Midwife’s characters and plots via email, texting and “face time.” Chummy is down to earth and lovable and has become a symbol of women’s changing role in society and her need for independence and fulfillment. Jenny, the main character, mirrors our own hopes, dreams and aspirations.

Watching people cope with poverty, ignorance, domestic violence, lack of birth control and disease is heart wrenching. When someone in these circumstances makes a wise choice or demonstrates not only their humanity, but an unrestrained compassion for others we are lifted in the process.

In the midst of filth and degradation, these mothers courageously bring life into the world with dignity. They embrace life and cling to hope. Viewers are inspired and ashamed at the same time. The characters have little, but they give all they have. Their courage and defiance in the face of tragedy make us, who take so many things for granted, ashamed. We are filled with a new sense of gratitude for our own abundance and ease.

Historical dramas remind us of where we’ve been and to whom we owe gratitude: the trail blazers, the researchers, the movers and the shakers of the past. We are enriched by their struggles and made aware of the sacrifices that were made on our behalf. Our own past and the trials and challenges that we faced may also be inspiration for those who come after.

“No man is an island,” penned John Donne. We are all connected and we influence every person who comes into our life whether with a simple smile or a helping hand when it is needed.

No Man Is An Island

No man is an island,
Entire of itself,
Every man is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less.
As well as if a promontory were.
As well as if a manor of thy friend’s
Or of thine own were:
Any man’s death diminishes me,
Because I am involved in mankind,
And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls;
It tolls for thee.

John Donne

What I Learned as a Kid Playing Jump Rope

“Moody Blues” 14 x 18 oil on canvas

Yes, it’s true. Many of the things I needed to know in life, I learned while playing jump rope. Let me explain.

I learned how to merge. Do you notice how many people simply don’t know how to do this with discretion? There are the bullies who drive into traffic like a bat out of you-know- where, always expecting that an opening is waiting just for them. Sometimes they make it, causing people like you and me to stomp on our brakes and swerve into dangerous congestion, or they slam on their own brakes and wait. By the time an opening appears, their car is at a standstill.

Then there are the turtles; the terrified ones who creep up onto the ramp, afraid of whizzing cars and trucks. They don’t have enough speed to merge in, and so they sit with a trail of cars behind them. These are the people who, when they were kids, either never played jump rope, or were never good at it.

They were the ones who stood and watched the rope go around and around, and when the time was right, they stood there as immobile as slugs. If they finally found courage to jump in, they were so out of sync that they tripped on the rope – game over.

It’s all about rhythm. There are signs that alert a jumper when the time is right: the tapping of the rope on pavement, the height of the rope when it’s time to jump in. It’s all about gut feel and the rhythms of life; moving when the time is right and taking turns.

I call it tact. Some people naturally have it. They must have been jump rope pros! They seem to know when to talk and when to keep their mouths shut. They sense when another person is tense or angry. They are in tune with other people’s feelings and the rhythms and patterns of human speech and emotion. Unlike their opposing counterparts who blurt out insulting remarks without thinking. Tacky!

They are the ones who swerve in and out of traffic without regard for anyone else’s safety. They are the shoppers who push past others waiting in line, crashing into them like bumper cars. They are impatient. They think having to wait is for wimps. Anger propels them. They don’t have time for games unless they can win. “What’s in it for me?” is the question that prefaces every action. They are bulldozers in human form.

Cooperation is another skill I learned while relieving a “turner.” Holding a rope in one hand and a second rope in the other, I learned to cooperate with the person on the other side. We turned each rope inward in perfect harmony; first one, and then the other. Turning the rope also gave me a chance to serve my fellow jumpers.

And when it was my turn to jump and everyone sang:
“Teddy bear, Teddy bear, turn around,
Teddy bear, Teddy bear touch the ground,
Teddy bear, Teddy bear, stick out your tongue,” etc.
My Coordination was enhanced as I exercised.

Come to think of it, I don’t remember seeing any obese kids in my classroom. The games we played at recess kept us agile and active. Kick ball, volley ball, hop scotch, jump rope, etc. provided movement, exercise, and friendships as we formed teams and worked together for a common purpose.

Patience was another virtue we at least tasted while we waited with 35 other classmates for our turn to jump. When we all sang together: “I love coffee, I love tea, I love sugar and it loves me. I love salt and pepper!” We cheered on the jumper as the rope tapped faster and faster; a surge of anxiety in our bellies as we waited for our own turn to jump. What did we learn? How about adjusting to changing tempos, new faces and rhythms? We learned about endurance. The kids who outlasted other jumpers were the winners.

As everyone sang: “Carol and Lee sitting in a tree: k-i-s-s-i-n-g. First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes Carol with a baby carriage;” I never dreamed, as I jumped and blushed, that one day I’d have six children. Our chants were always about life, and they paved the way for future expectations of romance, family and careers.

When we tripped on the rope or failed to match the turners speed, we picked ourselves up and tried again. We learned to adjust to added pressures and new environments that helped us as adults. For example: my first day, on a new job, in a new city, I had to pack up for a move to a new office across town. At the time, I wondered what I’d gotten myself in for. It turned out to be a blessing in disguise.

As I packed up the old files, I studied and reviewed them. When they were unpacked, I knew how I would file them and where. I knew which ones were active, and which ones could probably be archived. I learned how to cooperate with my co-workers. There’s nothing like the strain of a move to highlight personality and temperament. You find out a lot about people when they’re working under pressure.

You find out a lot about people by waiting in lines and driving down the highway. You find out who knows when to merge and who doesn’t. And you discover discourteous people who refuse to move left, even when they can, to allow someone else to enter the highway. I swear these people never jumped rope.

If I had my way, jump rope would be a part of every Drivers Ed. Class; maybe even part of college prep, or on-the-job training. Who knows, there might be fewer accidents on the road and more teamwork on the job. But that’s just my opinion. What’s yours?