pandora’s box

“They gave Pandora a box. Prometheus begged her not to open it.
She opened it. Every evil to which human flesh is heir came out of it.

The last thing to come out of the box was hope.
It flew away.”
Kurt Vonnegut Jr.

(an annoying pest moments before its demise / Julie Cook / 2017)

What have we become?

It was way back in 1989 when the world wide web, or more aptly known www., was
officially “created” by the British scientist Tim Berners-Lee,
an independent contractor working in Switzerland at the European Organization for
Nuclear Research…otherwise known as CERN.

It’s actually all quite above and beyond me really so I won’t even try to rehash any of it
or even attempt to explain it or its history except….
that I know that it was shortly after 1989 that one of those governing bodies
of all things science there at CERN proclaimed that access to and of the “web”
would be made available and free to the general populace….meaning you and me.

And life as you and I know it has never been the same.

And maybe that was the opening of pandora’s proverbial box.

Fast forward to 2017.

I am not a fatalist nor am I a henny penny the sky is falling doomsday sayer…
I’m also not one to put a whole lot of stock in prognosticators such as
the likes of a Nostradamus…
those soothsayers among us who carry the fatalistic signs proclaiming
that the end is near and we best all be ready…..

However that is not to say that I ever dismiss Christian mysticism…
I’ve lived long enough to know that I don’t know nearly as much as I often think I do.
I do believe in prophets.
I do believe in spiritual gifts.
and I also believe in spiritual curses…

I believe that there are those among us who tune in much better to God and His vast
and otherworldly Word than most of us average bears.
They hear and see and believe on a much deeper level than most of us are ever capable of
doing, possessing or going.

Theirs is a burdensome faith that most often comes with a heaviness that would suffocate
the average believer.
Carrying the weight of God’s very direct and personal words is not for the faint of heart.

Oh we’d all like to think we believe, we think we are faithful,
we think we step up to the plate when called…but trust me,
the majority of us fall much shorter than those few hearty inwardly seeing souls.

These certain individuals have been with us throughout the duration of time.
We know the ancient ones readily by name.
John
Jeremiah
Noah
Moses
Isaiah
Habakuk
Daniel
Simeon, etc…

on down to the very saints that today we so often reverently recall….
in places such as Fatima, Guadeloupe, Medjugorje, Lourdes
and even in the death camps of places like Auschwitz or in the Gulags buried deep
in Siberia.
Those select few have heard with a cutting clarity what the rest of us often naively
yearn for….but foolish mortals, you know not what you ask….

Most of us are not ready for such a sorrowful burdens of the Divine.
Think of the pieced heart of Mary…

And yet we must know that this mysticism of God is not far nor is it absent from our
modern-day lives despite many claiming quite the contrary.
Those frustrated among us who today proclaim we have no prophets,
no holy ones who see and call us to stop, look and listen–
No holy vocal polestars who point the rest of us in the right direction…

So what does Christian mysticism and the world wide web have to do with one another?
Well, not much really to the casual observer.
But to the more attuned…a great deal really….

Shortly after 1989 access to everything came to everyone with a frightening speed and
a deadly accuracy.
Now everyone had and still has the power.

The gift of technology was a boon but also a curse.

As it has begotten unto itself a wealth of spiraling accesses
of both new boons and endless curses.

It’s brought a connectivity to mankind that had never existed before.

Cell phones tying a crisscrossing virtual thread of global webs to the far flung edges
of civilization.
Internet at your fingertips anywhere, anytime….with anything you could imagine available
24/7 free of charge,
as our brains are now altered to seek out and be satisfied.

Twitter and its war of words with the tit for tat endlessness of anger and hatred…
Instagrams and its images galore be they good or be they bad….
Facebook and its sharing, bragging and constant underlying theme of human mayhem
Pintrest and its posting of the frustratingly fantastic
Snapchat and its humor of shenanigans
and so it goes…on and on, ad infinitum it begets and begets….

And what meaningful purpose does the majority of this all provide, offer or share
other than simply that, sharing…
with that sharing not always being a betterment for mankind kind of sharing….

And within all this dizzying wonderful and awful connectivity and sharing lies a
dark and sinister side…

Yet no one really wants to hear or acknowledge the darkness.
No one wants to see those who hold the signs proclaiming dangers or
that the end is near and are you ready….

For an unhealthiness has been bred deeply into mankind and it’s only boring deeper
and wider within.

Some now simply call the world flat…
Such as is the title of Thomas L Friedman’s 2005 book
The World is Flat: A Brief History of the 21st Century.

But at what cost have we flattened our world and ourselves?

There is new research stating that the brain has actually been altered by this
obsessive and loving addiction to our technology and it is called brain hacking…
(http://www.cbsnews.com/news/brain-hacking-tech-insiders-60-minutes/)
as in people are actually working on programs to addict your brain to
the need to access…..

So with this gift of access came to us a great responsibility along with a great curse…
Such that the majority of us were or are not ready nor prepared to bear…
rather we have been swept up within the fracas of begetting…
while the din of a million voices now vie for our thoughts…

Have we lost our ability of hearing…
listening and being attuned to those mystics among us calling out the words
of our God as we stare, with the blinders attached to our heads, ever so intently at the
devices at our finger’s reach……

Lest we be wary to whom and to what we now listen and give our beings over to…..

But you, Daniel, shut up the words, and seal the book, until the time of the end.
Many shall run to and fro, and knowledge shall increase.”
Many shall purify themselves, and make themselves white, and be refined;
but the wicked shall do wickedly; and none of the wicked shall understand;
but those who are wise shall understand
But go your way till the end; and you shall rest,
and shall stand in your allotted place at the end of the days.”
Daniel 12: 4, 9, 13

Oh to fly away

“If you were born without wings, do nothing to prevent them from growing.”
― Coco Chanel

(little sparrow / Julie Cook / 2015)

So I said, “Oh, that I had wings like a dove!
I would fly away and be at rest.
Psalm 55:6

Aging parents
Alzheimers
Dementia
Failing health
Physical failings
Bills
Past due
Overdue
Banks
Credit cards
Creditors
Lawyers
Wills
Power of attorney
Insurance
Life insurance
Medicare
Caregivers
Physical therapy
Disliked doctors
An aging home
Burst sewer pipes
Waiting on the city
Repair companies
Trust
No trust
Two separate families
Differences
Demands
Tears
Fear
Dad
Step mother
Life
Death
Unhappy
Frustrated
Sad

Oh to have the wings of a bird. . .

The parable of Sister Buzzard

He who would learn to fly one day must first learn to stand and walk and run and climb and dance; one cannot fly into flying.
Friedrich Nietzsche

(a soaring turkey buzzard over the skies of Troup Co. Georgia / Julie Cook / 2014)

I asked for wings so I could fly my way to find you,
because I knew you were just beyond the clouds.
By day I would search the endless skies,
. . . but you were not to be found in the skies.
By night I would scan the dark horizon,
. . .but I could not see you in the darkness.
I flew over vast oceans seeking you,
because I knew you would be sailing across the seas.
I soared over every body of water on earth,
. . . but you were not to be found on the oceans, rivers or steams.
I flew through valley glens and mountains high,
because I knew you would be walking across the earth.
. . .but you were not found traversing the land. . .

My heart grew heavy because my wings did not help me find you.
My eyes failed to see you
My ears failed to hear you
My nose failed to find your scent

With no other choice, I flew onward, continually seeking your presence,
yet I began to fret. . .
The question of why echoed in my thoughts.
My failure to find you plagued my heart.
Was it because. . .
I am dull and bland?
I am not majestic or grand?
I am not flamboyant or colorful?
I am not popular or sought after?
I am a seeker of that which is discarded and thrown away?
I am ridiculed and looked down upon?
I am chased away and shunned?
I am not wanted?
I am not pretty?

On a deep blue cloudless day, as the brilliant Sun danced lightly across the sky,
Brother Sun stopped to ask, “Sister Buzzard why do you seem so sad?”
I explained to Brother Sun of my quest. . .that it was my desire to fly, where ever my wings could carry me, in hopes of finding you.
Brother Sun warmly wrapped me in his rays and said to me,
“Oh sweet Sister Buzzard, be of good cheer young bird, for you are greatly loved and richly blessed beyond measure.”

“But Brother Sun, how do you know this?” was my sad reply

“Sister Buzzard, I smile upon you daily, just as He asks me to in order to warm your wings.
Brother Night envelopes you each evening, allowing you to rest in peace, just as He commands.
Brother Rain falls upon you cleansing the air you both fly and breathe in, exactly as He would have it.
Sister Moon glows for you at night, offering you hope in the darkness, just as He requests.
Brother Wind blows lifting you gently higher in the sky just as He desires.
Sister Mother Earth provides you life as well as death for your very survival, just as He has deemed.
You need no longer fly endlessly searching. . .for He is constantly at your side and you are forever in His presence.

And so it was. . .Sister Buzzard had found her peace, which was never far from her touch, resting in the warm thermal skies as she now contently swirls in the new found knowledge of the Love of the One who has deemed that all shall be well, all shall be well, all manner of thing shall be well. . .

But from there you will seek the LORD your God, and you will find Him if you search for Him with all your heart and all your soul. “When you are in distress and all these things have come upon you, in the latter days you will return to the LORD your God and listen to His voice. “For the LORD your God is a compassionate God; He will not fail you nor destroy you nor forget the covenant with your fathers which He swore to them.
Deuteronomy 4:29-31

There is both compassion and malice in this world

“A human being is a part of the whole called by us universe, a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts and feeling as something separated from the rest, a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty.”
― Albert Einstein

Every day in the year there comes some malice into the world, and where it comes from is no good place.
Lady Gregory

(a tiny friend trapped in a garage, weary and waiting for assistance / Julie Cook / 2014)

As I opened the kitchen door, I heard the familiar sound of heavy and intense buzzing–as if a swarm of giant bees was laying siege to my garage. And as it is, I have grown somewhat accustomed to this sound, as I immediately did an about face heading back in the house to fetch the telescopic duster.

For whatever reason, during the summer months, as long as the hummingbirds have taken up residence at my feeders, inevitably one of their clan seems to find its way into my garage yet cannot find its way out.

Our garage / carport is finished on the inside and is painted white. I’ve often wondered about the color white and whether or not the hummingbirds, or birds in general for that matter, have any sort of depth perception as far as color is concerned. Once in the carport, the birds frantically fly about the ceiling, as if they think it is the sky and they should simply be able to take off as it were. Instead, the tiny birds exhaust themselves buzzing along the ceiling, around and around hoping to be free of the invisible barrier. Sometimes they head to the windows with the same flying intensity as if the glass boundary will magically disappear. As the tiny birds grow increasingly fatigued, they often light on the windowsill or garage door lift. This is where I come in. . .

Careening my neck to an almost backwards breaking point, I precariously wander about the carport holding up a telescopic pole used for dusting ceiling fans following the erratic flying pattern, attempting to get near enough to the small lost creature, hoping he or she will grow so weary that they will simply perch on the soft duster at the end of the pole.
I look much like I’m practicing some sort of odd balancing circus act.

Inevitably and thankfully the bird lands. If I’m lucky, I can gently lower the pole, dipping it low enough, past the overhead garage door, allowing the exhausted bird to fly off to freedom. Sometimes they still have just enough energy to panic, taking off again for another round of “fly around the ceiling.” Other times, if the bird lights on the windowsill, I can usually crawl up on the brick ledge, gingerly picking up the weary bird from off the sill and gently carry it out to freedom—as was the case yesterday.

(a grateful and soon to be liberated friend / Julie Cook / 2014

Happily no one is any worse for the wear as I can often be found later in the day sitting on the back deck reading and watching the feeders when, out of the blue, one of the birds darts under the awning, right up to my face hovering around a bit as if to offer a bit of thanks before darting back out to the feeders. A most humbling interaction with one of Nature’s smallest creatures.

And as I sat yesterday afternoon, thinking about my encounter with a tiny bird in need of a little help, a little human compassion, my thoughts turned to the latest tragedy which unfolded in the Middle East this week with the execution of Steven Sotloff. Was it not just last week that our attentions were turned to the execution of the American journalist James Foley?!

Executions which are more reminiscent of medieval times verses a modern 21st century. The sinister and malicious, if not sadistic, performance of the macabre. It is beyond my soul how a person can raise a knife to another person’s throat and proceed to cut off that individual’s head. I simply can’t wrap my mind around that. And maybe that’s part of the problem. This middle aged American wife, mother, educator, cannot comprehend what it takes, what exists inside of a person, do such a horrific act on another living soul.

Frighteningly, there is obviously a cold and empty detachment.
Perhaps this is the living definition of Evil.

I understand that there are sick individuals out there who commit horrific crimes–for a myriad of reasons all equally twisted and sick. Yet we must be mindful that the rise of the Islamic State of Iraq and Syria, better known by its acronym, ISIS, is not composed of a single sick deprived individual—rather, it is a movement. A movement that is growing at an alarming, frighteningly and exponentially rate of high speed.

Oh I suppose we can say what we will about journalists who perhaps get a little too close to the action in the name of capturing “the story.” Some may say that these reporters and journalist know the risks going in. I suppose we may say the same about the aid workers who rush in to war torn and disease ridden countries in order to offer just that–aid, comfort, help and hope to the millions of innocent souls caught in the middle of chaos or those unfortunate enough to live in plague ridden areas with limited medical care. . .

Yet I for one do not buy the excuses of the jaded who write these individuals off as merely folks who unfortunately end up on the wrong side of the statistics of the risk.
No human being deserves to suffer mercilessly at the hand of another human being.
How empty my words sound to the families of James Foley and Steven Sotloff.

About this same time last year, a Paris based organization, Reporters without Borders, reported that the estimate was that there were at least 60 “news providers” being held captive, or “detained”, as well as 110 or more individuals who had already been killed at the hands of Islamic terrorist groups across the globe.

Kidnappings, torture, exorbitant ransoms and ultimately grizzly executions.
All for what?
A new world order?
A new dogma?
World domination?
Sounds all rather Orwellian, yet ominously, it seems to be a very real and swiftly growing worry and threat.

Recently reported by a New York Times investigation, published last month, “Al Qaeda and its affiliates had brought in at least $125 million through ransom payments since 2008, including $66 million in 2013. That money came largely from European governments.”
As reported yerterday in The Guardian, “After telling MPs that the UK would not pay ransoms to secure the release of hostages in the hands of Islamic State militants, the prime minister, David Cameron, said Britain and the US would step up attempts to persuade other governments to cease making such payments.”

There are currently three known aid workers being held by ISIS. One being a 26 year old female American who was kidnapped last year. An Italian and Brit are the other two known captives. The American aid worker, as had her European and British counterparts, had gone to Syria, by her own volition, to offer her help, comfort, support, hope–to countless numbers of refugees, many of whom are children caught up in the tangled web of extremist chaos.

We may choose to sit back, reading our papers and watching our news reports of such stories as these–stories of the ugliness of “over there.” We may have missed the fact that there are now American and European citizens who are counted among the members of this growing extremist movement. We may continue feeling comfortable and safe in our chairs in our homes as we read and watch the news about this latest war. . .over there. . .

What of the aid workers? What dare say we will be their fate at the hands of these depraved terrorists? There has been a confirmed ransom demand of 6.6 million dollars for the American. Our government has long said it will not negotiate with terrorist. I agree. Obviously David Cameron agrees. Yet if I was the mother of that aid worker, I know I would feel differently. I would most likely beg, borrow and steal to have my child safely back in my arms. The question begs to be answered. . .can nations continue paying barbaric thugs astronomical amounts of money, which simply in turn goes to further funding the deepening madness and chaos of thuggery and terrorism. . .a precarious price of extortion and blood money given in the name of buying, albeit a brief, peace of mind?

How long will the cost of that peace of mind last until the next demand of payment to the proverbial piper?
The concern should be that groups such as ISIS will not be content to merely take hold of a town, a city, a country. They are parasitic and they are hungry. Their hunger is ravenous and knows no limit.

The compassion of the innocents, in this case the aid workers, has been met with the malicious hate of evil–in this case, a cohesive malevolent movement. It is merely a matter of time until we learn the next move in this latest and costly game of chess. May our thoughts and prayers remain steadfast for theses individuals and their familiars.

When good people in any country cease their vigilance and struggle, then evil men prevail.
Pearl S. Buck

Faith of the birds

“The reason birds can fly and we can’t is simply that they have perfect faith, for to have faith is to have wings.”
J.M. BARRIE

I love my “flicker” which comes to visit the feeder–constantly. He, and no doubt offspring, are always 3 season residents to my yard. He’s big and a bit loud. Officially he’s known as a Yellow bellied sap sucker–a woodpecker of sorts. He also tends to be a bit shy so it’s a little difficult getting him to pose. My other birds don’t seem to mind or pay me any attention when I’m in the yard. The flicker however will either fly off or up into the tree until I become very still. Camera shy.

The quote today is by J. M. Barrie, the Scottish born author of Peter Pan. You know the story of Peter, Wendy, Capt. Hook, Tinker Bell, the Lost boys….my favorite adaptation being the movie Hook, starting two of my all time favorite actors, Robin William as Peter and Dustin Hoffman as Hook. The quintessential story of the jaded grown up man trying to recapture that innocence of youth.

Birds fly because they can. I suppose they believe that they can, so they do. It’s a pure acceptance of fact. As humans we don’t always possess that pure acceptance–our logic, reasoning and rational all seem to get in the way.

Children always seem to have such vivid imaginations because they haven’t lived long enough yet to have developed our adult jaded sense of reason and logic. I can remember thinking I could don a towel around my neck, my cape, and use it as a parachute as I jumped off of the top of the sliding board. I believed it would gently float me to the ground. Jump after jump, thud after thud, hard landing each and every time–my rational was that my towel was too heavy and perhaps a pillow case would do a better job as I just knew I could glide……

The whole story of Peter Pan, the boy who refused to grow up….because once he grew up, he’d lose his imagination, he’d forget how to play, he’d be unable to imagine, he’d forget how to fly….

Remember Jesus’s admonition to his disciples when he tells the men to allow the children to enter his presence–this after the men were trying to shoo the children away thinking they were just going to get in the way and bother Jesus…we tend to think children just get in the way of adult life….
Jesus goes on to say “I tell you the truth unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.” (Matthew 18: 2-4)

“humbles himself”—Humble: Adjective –Having or showing a modest or low estimate of one’s own importance.
Verb—Lower (someone) in dignity or importance

in essence—lacking ego, the know it all persona—it’s hard to have faith when one has more ego–

Children believe. Children tend to be humble. Children tend to have less ego than adults. Theirs is a simple uncomplicated belief system. Our’s, not so much.
Our faith, which is so often tried and tested from the trials and fires of life, takes a tremendous beating. We grow weak and weary. Then our ego steps in…..

We are reminded that “…faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.” (Hebrews 11:1) and that “nothing will be impossible with God” (Luke 1:37)
and one of my favorite reminders….”You believe that God is one; you do well. Even demons believe–and shudder!” ( James 2:19) Yes, even that which is truly bad and awful knows the truth—and yet we proceed to doubt and deny anyway…..

I’m not telling you to believe that you can fly….the law of physics steps in that one….but what I am saying is that to believe in God is to have the ability of believing in the impossible. And for us to believe in the impossible is not an easy feat.

Today, I want to examine my faith–my ability to trust in and believe in that which I do not see. I believe in an omnipotent God that I do not see—but yet I do see—I see Him all around me—my flicker, my garden, my family, the sun that rises each morning and sets each evening….
Do bad things happen to me to rock that belief system? YES. Over the course of my life I have been known to get quite angry at my unseen God, scream and yell, walk away for a while—things here are wrong, not fair, tragic and sad–WHY???!!!

I don’t have the answers for all of that, and yet I know I can’t go on living without my Faith. I know that there is more to this life than just me and what happens in my world—things are all bigger than I am–things tend to be intertwined and woven together…beyond my comprehension….because I must surrender the ego of self and arrogance and remember simply as a child, that I am less and He is more—that I am created and He is Creator—I have to have Faith in that and in Him—or all of this is for naught and that is just terribly sad…I prefer to focus on the Faith of it all….

Here is to a faith filled Friday