Winter Chill

The silence is threatening,
Evoking the hollow menace of the Bates Motel....
I watch snow falling, incessant,
Splattering over starving chickadees
Fruitlessly rooting in the disrepair of my back yard.

The facade of Christmas intrudes,
Far too much jolly holiday
Looking like a cheap whorehouse in my Mormon neighbor's yard.

I feel vulnerable.
I used to love winter,
Night, chill, solitude....

Now resentments choke my laughter,
The body that no longer stays warm,
The voice whose high notes quaver and whose breath gives out.

The zombie of my youth staggers aimlessly down ice-covered sidewalks,
Where tinsel and flickering lights sabotage my resistance....

And after the holly-daze,
When the world descends again into the pit of icebound silence,
When the chaos subsides and once again there is
Silent snow, secret snow…

When once again I am alone in the chill, the darkness,
With no voices slithering by on the bitter wind,

Then what?

I will not be frightened of winter.
I will not fear the changes brought by age.
I will not be too tired to decorate.
I will not be Scrooge.

I am old, yes.
But I still gain joy in silence, darkness, solitude.
There are still thoughts in my head, words in my mouth.

Silent, private, hoarded up like the nuts under the stump
Waiting under the snow for the journey to resume.

I find solace in the silence, dreams within the darkness, warmth within the chill.
I remember my oft-chanted paean on "darkness, distance, silence"
And realize that the full measure of each
May only be measured against the yearly death of light and proximity and cacophony.

Winter fills me.
Winter rests me.
Winter refreshes and sustains me.

I suppose it is my Season, after all.


© Aisling the Bard
Winter 2008-2009

Song Of The Self

I have a friend who is currently experiencing the "Dark Night Of The Soul", rather profoundly. And I just, not, I think, by coincidence, found this. I think it might help my friend, and I need to hear it again. Maybe you do too. It's a sermon I gave at South Valley some years ago. I hope it will make you think.

I remember when my children were very young, I was substituting for my four-year-old son’s Sunday School class. The lesson the teacher had prepared was on The Golden Rule, suitably scaled-down to child size. We were talking about the kindness one shows to others, and in the teacher’s notes was the statement “we are here to live for others” which I dutifully read. There was a small pause, and then one tiny girl looked up at me curiously and in a disquietingly clear voice said, “What are the others here for?”

I have given much thought to that statement, over the years, and to the Golden Rule itself, and to many other ways of seeing, ways of living. And I have come to a precarious conclusion. I have concluded that over centuries of so-called enlightened living, we have somehow gotten it wrong, That core ethic, “Do unto others,” which is, in various forms, at the heart of nearly all of the world’s religions, which is the baseline of morality, and even to an extent of civil law, has been grossly misinterpreted, and therefore misapplied, by centuries of well-meaning adherents.

Could this be true? I asked. Could we all have missed it? So… I went looking. And in doing so I realized that we had indeed, all of us as a culture, made errors of emphasis, and therefore errors of interpretation, in this passage.

It is not difficult. It is not arcane. The passage, repeated many many times in many many religious writings, says, “Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself.”

AS thyself. Not INSTEAD OF thyself. Not BEFORE, or BETTER THAN, thyself. The passage is further clarified in the 5^th chapter of Ephesians, where it is said, “For what man ever yet hated his own flesh, but nourisheth it and cherisheth it.?”

And I thought about that. It was a revelation. God wanted me to love myself. His standard for how much I owed to my neighbor was based on how much I loved myself, no more, no less. And so I began to think. Did I love myself? And how was I to know?

You all realize, of course, that the word “Selfish” has been made one of the most profound insults in our culture. It is bred out of us from the time we are infants, that natural desire to be good to the self. We tell our very small children to give the truck to Johnny, even if they want to play with it themselves. We teach our preschoolers to wait to be served last, even if they come to the table hungry. Our grade-school children are taught that it is rude to ask for something, and that they must wait until it is offered to them by their hostess. We go so far as to teach high-schoolers that when they write an essay they are to write it in the third person, not using the word “I”. And when we reach the age of dating and thinking about making life decisions about partnering, we evaluate potential mates partly on their ability to be unselfish. The most scathing thing we can call someone is “self-centered” or “self-focused,” and a girl will easily dismiss a boy with the offhand comment, “It’s all about him.” When we look at parenting, one of our highest terms of praise for another is, “S/he is selfless.” There is an oft-repeated aphorism, “A mother is the person at the table who, on seeing that there are three pieces of pie for four people, asserts confidently that she never did have much use for pie.” We apologize for reading a book just because we want to when there is laundry to be done, for taking a day off work if we are not ill. We defer to others to such a degree that often when asked what WE want, our response is “I don’t know.” Our culture has effectively eradicated the concept of love of the Self, or marginalized it to the point of sinfulness. We have pretty much retranslated the Golden Rule, in practice, so that it now reads, “Love thy neighbor INSTEAD OF thyself.” And if we looked within, frankly and steadily, many of us would realize that we do NOT love ourselves, not at all. Many of us don’t even LIKE that person in the mirror.

And with all this emphasis on denying the Self, what have we achieved? We live in a culture of materialism and mindlessness, looking ever for the next instant reward or sensory stimulus. We have teenagers who do not think there is any purpose to their lives. We have rampant divorce and an ever-increasing number of people on Prozac and other such drugs. And most chilling of all, we have many people in our culture who have no sense whatsoever of who they really are or what they are supposed to be doing here.

And so I have become a missionary. I have a standard to bear and a flag to wave. And it goes like this: Take back your right to love yourself. Nourish yourself. Cherish yourself. Love of the self is the basis upon which all other love rests. True love of the self is the one tool which gives us the power to be whole, to sustain others, to be independent and self-reliant, to give meaning and purpose to our own lives, and to model healthy love for our children. It is imperative that we begin once again to remember how to Minister to ourSelves, to Care for ourSelves, so that we might, one person by one person, heal the fabric of our society by creating healthier humans within it. So, how do we do that? To minister to the Self is to care for the Self, to love the Self. Over centuries of conditioning, we have absorbed the idea that the Self is not only unimportant, but that it is wrong to concentrate on the Self. How do we heal that? With love. Self-love. So…what is that?

Self-love is the recognition of your own uniqueness. It is the acknowledgement that you are indeed irreplaceable to the Universe, which, the last time I checked, had not yet begun mass-production of the human soul. Self love is based on taking time to listen to your own thoughts, to become aware of your own needs and desires, to enlarge your own soul and your own capacity to learn, to appreciate life, to grow.

Self love asks of yourself, “Who are You?” instead of “What do you do?” Ministry to the Self means taking time and space and silence in order to feel the breath in your own body and listen to the rush of thoughts in your own head. It means not apologizing for caring enough about your own needs and desires to voice your real thoughts and opinions where it matters. It means not silencing your preferences or muting your feelings when it is significant. And it is always significant.

Ministering to the Self is treating oneself like a cherished friend. It is seeing the beauty in one’s own face and body, and caring enough about that not to apologize for one’s looks or body type or age or other physical states of being. It is honoring one’s physical existence with a healthy diet, a lifestyle that allows time for sufficient sleep and exercise, and scheduled-in quiet time and self-time that is free from agendae.

Ministering to the Self means encouraging one’s own progress, even if the things on which one wishes to expend time and energy have no material value. It means never apologizing for taking time to take a quiet walk under the stars or sit reading a book that has nothing to do with work, just because you want to. It means there is, too, money in the budget for music lessons, even if you are beginning at forty. It means it is not a waste of time and money to go back to school even if you do not get a degree. It means giving yourself permission to pursue what you care about and become whom you wish to be.

Are there benefits to this healthy self-love beyond the Self? Definitely. People who understand self-love are not co-dependent. They do not seek outside affirmation of the rightness of their being, because they KNOW within themselves that they are right, just as they are, just because they are. It must have become obvious to you all that when you are overstressed and overstrained you have nothing left to give. People who have a healthy self-love are capable of replenishing themselves, and therefore have an overflow to give to others. But most significantly, people who understand how to love themselves have the deepest and most profound respect for the uniqueness of their own being, one that sheds happiness and wholeness on the lives of everyone with whom they interact. You might go out from here today with a renewed consciousness that you are intrinsically holy, intrinsically whole, and that you are irreplaceable to the Universe. Listen to this:

D E S I D E R A T A

Go placidly amid the noise and haste, And remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons.

Speak your truth quietly & clearly; and listen to others, even the dull & ignorant;
they too have their story.

Avoid loud & aggressive persons, they are a vexation to the spirit.

If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain & bitter, for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.

Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing future of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs; for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals; and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself. Especially, do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love; for in the face of all aridity & disenchantment it is perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with vain imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue & loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself.

You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees & the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be, and whatever your labours & aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.

With all its sham, drudgery & broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.

Be cheerful.

Strive to be happy.

There is no one like you. There never will be again and there never was before. So….never apologize for ministering to yourself, for loving yourself first and your neighbor as yourself. You are unique. You are irreplaceable. You are one of a kind. What’s not to love?

Lorica...Brigit's Arrow...A Paean For The First Morning Of The New Year

I arise today

Through the strength of heaven:

Light of sun,

Radiance of moon,

Splendor of fire,

Speed of lightning,

Swiftness of wind,

Depth of sea,

Stability of earth,

Firmness of rock.

        I, Mairin Aisling, in this fateful hour

       Place all Nature with Her power;

       The Sun with its brightness,

       The Moon with its whiteness,

       The Fire with all the strength it hath,

       The Lightning with its rapid wrath,

       The Winds with their swiftness along their path,

       The Sea with its deepness,

       The Rocks with their steepness,

       The Earth with its starkness;

       All these I place

       With Brighid's almighty help and grace

       Between myself and the powers of darkness.

        Every day and every night

       That I say the genealogy of Brighid

       I shall not be killed,

       I shall not be wounded;

       I shall not be harried;

       I shall not be put into a cell;

       No fire, no sun, no moon will burn me;

       No water, no lake, no sea will drown me:

       For I am child of Poetry;

       Poetry, child of Reflection;

       Reflection, child of Meditation;

       Meditation, child of Lore;

       Lore, child of Research;

       Research, child of Great Knowledge;

       Great Knowledge, child of Intelligence;

       Intelligence, child of Comprehension;

       Comprehension, child of Wisdom;

       Wisdom, child of Brighid.

Solstice at Newgrange

Due to last year's bandwidth-breaking popularity, the Irish Office of Public Works is once again webcasting the Winter Solstice sunrise from inside Newgrange, this time with considerably more bandwidth allocated.

You can watch it live online from inside the chamber here, from 8:30 a.m. until 9:30 a.m. December 21, Irish time. That is to say, 1:30 a.m. Sunday December 21, 2008 for us MST folks, if you want to see it whilst it is still happening. It will most likely be available after the event, as well. And no guarantees about whether the sun will actually shine...but if it does, we should all be able to see it. Hail our ancient forbears...I will feel connected to all of you if I can see this as you did.

OHEMGEE, I FREAKING LOOOOVE THIS....

No Gays for a Day?

(courtesy of latimes.com)

Joel Stein

November 14, 2008

You wouldn't think gay people would need tips on staging a splashy event from Mexican immigrants. Yet since they lost the right to marry in California, gays appear to have no game plan, marching around West Hollywood and Silver Lake with their old "No on 8" signs, which makes about as much sense as holding a John McCain rally next month at John McCain's house.

That's why I'm declaring Dec. 5 No Gays for a Day day. Patterned after the 2006 Great American Boycott organized by Latino immigrants, on that Friday, gays should stay home from work, school and do no shopping, to prove how crucial they are to American society. No Gays for a Day will demonstrate what it would be like if -- as so much of the non-coastal U.S. seems to desire -- gays just disappeared. You may not even know who all your daily gays are, so there's no predicting the impact. It probably won't shut down the restaurant industry like the immigrants did, but know this for certain: Dec. 5 will be a day that fashion does not move forward.

To gauge this strategy's effectiveness, I called Sonja Eddings Brown, the spokesperson for the Protect Marriage coalition that put Proposition 8 -- which defined marriage as exclusively heterosexual -- on the ballot. Brown, to my surprise, sounded defeated. I reminded her that Proposition 8 passed, so maybe she should pep up a bit. "Did we win?" she asked. "It doesn't feel like it." When I ran No Gays for a Day by her, Brown said, "I have so many dear friends who are such invaluable parts of this city and California who are gay." It was the boldest use of "some of my best friends are ... " I had ever heard.

My main concern about enacting my plan is that I'm not gay. And my previous attempt as an outsider to rally folks to a cause was a miserable failure: Right before I applied to college, I suggested Asian students protest being stereotyped as overachievers by skipping the SAT.

Also, I'm really lazy. So I called Amy Balliett for help. Balliett is a lesbian in Seattle who, just last Friday, created JoinTheImpact.com, which has organized an expected 250,000 people nationwide to march Saturday in protest of Proposition 8. Balliett immediately embraced No Gays for a Day as JoinTheImpact's second event. We worked out some kinks, like "pretending you are sick" for people who aren't out of the closet at work. For economic impact, we picked a Friday -- one of the big shopping days before Christmas and the day People, Us Weekly and Star usually sell out at newsstands. We also decided that because this is a general strike, not a directed boycott, even gay-owned, gay-patronized businesses should shut down. "I hate to say this, but we should even say, 'Don't even go out to the bars,' " she said. "I just don't know if the community can stick to that."

To get media attention, Balliett -- a search-engine marketer -- is going to use the social networking sites she used for Saturday's march. Although that sounded promising, I decided to hunt for a No Gays for a Day celebrity spokesperson. I chose Kathy Griffin because she's so well connected to the gay community and because it's hard to get Ellen DeGeneres on the phone at 10 p.m. when you're drinking and coming up with ideas like No Gays for a Day.

Griffin -- who is a spokesperson for the Foundation for AIDS Research, AIDS Project Los Angeles, Aid for AIDS and, I'm guessing, AIDS, AIDS, AIDS -- was thrilled to get the official celebrity spokesperson job. And she thought our impact would be significant. "Forget Pinkberry. It's over for them. They could go under in one day," she said. "If you do two days without gays, Bravo would go under too." People, we figure, will have no assistance at libraries or gym class and will madly butcher their hair. Subaru dealerships shouldn't bother opening. Entertainment journalism will take such a hit, TMZ will have to report hockey scores.

Griffin was getting more excited about our plan until I mentioned this might slow up the remodel of her house. "My remodel? What about the audience for my shows? The only reason I'm doing this is on Dec. 5, I don't have a show. I'd never do this if I had a show that day in Palm Desert," she said. Then -- and you'll have to trust me that this actually happened -- Griffin got quiet for a few seconds. "If my assistants don't go to work," she said, "who's going to go to the bathroom for me? I'm screwed on a day without gays. I've made a huge error in judgment. Me, Cher and Bette Midler are going to be the three most screwed Americans. We all might actually die that day. And what if Ryan Seacrest doesn't go to work? The state will collapse. This will wake up California."

But Griffin decided No Gays for a Day is a cause worthy of her suffering. Now the rest of the world will find out what Griffin has known all along: We need our gays. If it turns out I'm wrong, and we don't miss them, then as a married man, I can tell you this: The best way to keep them at home is to let them get married.

An Everyday Miracle

I was driving home from babysitting for Lauren and Ellie tonight, and I saw the full moon rising over the mountains on the east of the valley. It somehow seems so much more plangent in the winter...maybe I need to find out exactly what the meteorological reasons for this is. In any case, she is amazing, and the sight reminded me of this which I wrote some years ago. So here it is again, with all my love.



Moon Mother

Aisling the Bard, October 18, 2005

We stood last night, a circle of kindred, and watched Her
Coming out from behind the crag of Mt. Olympus

Not shy, this globe of glowing silver light,
But plangent, full and bursting, assertive, a Presence.

She was THERE....and we....?

We stood, cups in hand, watching the unveiling
Sight seen so often, never taken for granted,
Her bounteous presence once again with us,
And yet new, unexpected, ever vivid and compelling
like the air you breathe every morning,
essential and appreciated,
though often unremarked.

But we had to mark Her, this night, this appearance...
It was like the processional of an ancient Queen,
Panoplied in splendor, golden, coruscating, glinting with awareness...
She would not be unregarded.

And we raised our cups, and honored Her, and bowed....
None of us, we urban-dwelling Pagans,
even for a moment thinking of Science or Technology,
But all of us awed once again, as our race has been from time immemorial,
By the living presence of the Lady,
The Mother of Lights,
In Her silvered radiance.

She is a Mystery, and we watch in awe,
As her face reveals itself to us again and again,
Always for the first time.

We drank deep, mead we had made together, and savored the moment...
Ancient wine, ancient Lady, ancient mystery of craft and kith,
Loving our Presence here in timelessness
within the globe of silver light,
And still so essentially present in our own world,
The hiss of cars on the motorway resonating with the pulse of crashing surf,
Recalled in genetic memory, though never experienced.

And at that moment, we recalled
Or thought for the first time,
Of all the Hidden Children,
over our land and other lands

All of them watching
Seeing Her in radiance,
The same glowing silver face
The same breathless awakening,
The same Awe,

Time and place compelling different circumstances
But all kindred, honoring the Mother of All.

We lifted our glasses again,
Gazing ever upward,
And felt our connection
To those unknown faces,
Perhaps also raising glasses in tribute.

We drank to them
A toast to "the Others"
Her other children,
Those we will never see,
But whom we Know,
More intimately, perhaps, than those
with whom we brush careless shoulders
In offices and stores
Where her face does not shine.

We connected
In moonlight
to all those we may never see,
But whose hearts and minds are kin to us
because of Her shining silver radiance,

And She smiled.

A VERY "Special Comment"...

In case there is ONE PERSON who reads my blog who has not yet seen this, here it is. Pay attention:

SPECIAL COMMENT
By Keith Olbermann
Anchor, 'Countdown'
msnbc.com

Finally tonight as promised, a Special Comment on the passage, last week, of Proposition Eight in California, which rescinded the right of same-sex couples to marry, and tilted the balance on this issue, from coast to coast.

Some parameters, as preface. This isn't about yelling, and this isn't about politics, and this isn't really just about Prop-8. And I don't have a personal investment in this: I'm not gay, I had to strain to think of one member of even my very extended family who is, I have no personal stories of close friends or colleagues fighting the prejudice that still pervades their lives.

And yet to me this vote is horrible. Horrible. Because this isn't about yelling, and this isn't about politics. This is about the human heart, and if that sounds corny, so be it.

If you voted for this Proposition or support those who did or the sentiment they expressed, I have some questions, because, truly, I do not understand. Why does this matter to you? What is it to you? In a time of impermanence and fly-by-night relationships, these people over here want the same chance at permanence and happiness that is your option. They don't want to deny you yours. They don't want to take anything away from you. They want what you want—a chance to be a little less alone in the world.

Only now you are saying to them—no. You can't have it on these terms. Maybe something similar. If they behave. If they don't cause too much trouble. You'll even give them all the same legal rights—even as you're taking away the legal right, which they already had. A world around them, still anchored in love and marriage, and you are saying, no, you can't marry. What if somebody passed a law that said you couldn't marry?

I keep hearing this term "re-defining" marriage. If this country hadn't re-defined marriage, black people still couldn't marry white people. Sixteen states had laws on the books which made that illegal in 1967. 1967.

The parents of the President-Elect of the United States couldn't have married in nearly one third of the states of the country their son grew up to lead. But it's worse than that. If this country had not "re-defined" marriage, some black people still couldn't marry black people. It is one of the most overlooked and cruelest parts of our sad story of slavery. Marriages were not legally recognized, if the people were slaves. Since slaves were property, they could not legally be husband and wife, or mother and child. Their marriage vows were different: not "Until Death, Do You Part," but "Until Death or Distance, Do You Part." Marriages among slaves were not legally recognized.

You know, just like marriages today in California are not legally recognized, if the people are gay.

And uncountable in our history are the number of men and women, forced by society into marrying the opposite sex, in sham marriages, or marriages of convenience, or just marriages of not knowing, centuries of men and women who have lived their lives in shame and unhappiness, and who have, through a lie to themselves or others, broken countless other lives, of spouses and children, all because we said a man couldn't marry another man, or a woman couldn't marry another woman. The sanctity of marriage.

How many marriages like that have there been and how on earth do they increase the "sanctity" of marriage rather than render the term, meaningless?

What is this, to you? Nobody is asking you to embrace their expression of love. But don't you, as human beings, have to embrace... that love? The world is barren enough.

It is stacked against love, and against hope, and against those very few and precious emotions that enable us to go forward. Your marriage only stands a 50-50 chance of lasting, no matter how much you feel and how hard you work.

And here are people overjoyed at the prospect of just that chance, and that work, just for the hope of having that feeling. With so much hate in the world, with so much meaningless division, and people pitted against people for no good reason, this is what your religion tells you to do? With your experience of life and this world and all its sadnesses, this is what your conscience tells you to do?

With your knowledge that life, with endless vigor, seems to tilt the playing field on which we all live, in favor of unhappiness and hate... this is what your heart tells you to do? You want to sanctify marriage? You want to honor your God and the universal love you believe he represents? Then Spread happiness—this tiny, symbolic, semantical grain of happiness—share it with all those who seek it. Quote me anything from your religious leader or book of choice telling you to stand against this. And then tell me how you can believe both that statement and another statement, another one which reads only "do unto others as you would have them do unto you."

You are asked now, by your country, and perhaps by your creator, to stand on one side or another. You are asked now to stand, not on a question of politics, not on a question of religion, not on a question of gay or straight. You are asked now to stand, on a question of love. All you need do is stand, and let the tiny ember of love meet its own fate.

You don't have to help it, you don't have it applaud it, you don't have to fight for it. Just don't put it out. Just don't extinguish it. Because while it may at first look like that love is between two people you don't know and you don't understand and maybe you don't even want to know. It is, in fact, the ember of your love, for your fellow person just because this is the only world we have. And the other guy counts, too.

This is the second time in ten days I find myself concluding by turning to, of all things, the closing plea for mercy by Clarence Darrow in a murder trial.

But what he said, fits what is really at the heart of this:

"I was reading last night of the aspiration of the old Persian poet, Omar-Khayyam," he told the judge. It appealed to me as the highest that I can vision. I wish it was in my heart, and I wish it was in the hearts of all:
"So I be written in the Book of Love;
I do not care about that Book above.
Erase my name, or write it as you will,
So I be written in the Book of Love."