the rabbit trail

before it started
there was a trigger
i cannot remember
though the thought after i can
"media creates language"

a curiosity about the word media
eclipsed by an obsession
for the phrase come to mind
that sparked the whole thing off
it was some metaphor, idiom or cliche
that i realized started with someone
that i found fit in with media being plural for medium
o the parallels, and crossing synchronicity
prepackaged phrases that come at ease
having deeper meaning
because they express something we can relate to

and then there it was
a rabbit trail
come full circle

feeling the burn. literally.

The pot holder was damp.
Like a wet hand had previously touched it. 

This was a problem
that didn't register in my mind until it was too late.

When it then registered with resounding alarms and explosive fireworks
inside my head as my finger sent emergency signals rapidly to my brain.

My finger was being burned through the pot holder.
My finger felt it, and my brain knew it almost as soon as my finger did.
(Maybe sooner since it was my brain charged with interpreting the situation. #mindblown)

But the cast-iron pan, which had been roasting in the oven, was already fighting gravity, held by the handle in my hand, in limbo over the stone floor in the space between the oven and the nearby stove, where i had intended to set it down.

Synapses fired like lightening.

It was a chemical and electrical execution of information almost transcending time,
but not.

The initial reaction, in many a painful instance, is to disconnect from (or drop, in my case) the source of injury.

In the heat of the moment the nerve messengers of finger yelled, "ABORT! ABORT!".. like a frantic army commander seeing those in his care seemingly doomed by the mission being undertaken.

i didn't, however, abort and drop the pan, i just quickly continued moving it to the stove (which wasn't far).

i didn't need to work out what happened, i had already realized the reason for the dilemma - but this realization led me to something else.. As i reflected on it, i had a revelation of how profound and amazing our brains actually are, even in their weakened state this side of Eden.

Somehow i recognized consciously (too late) the pad's patches of dampness without having to think about it or examine the pad later to determine it.. leading me to believe i must have on a subconscious level recognized this fact when i initially grabbed it, where it was registered as information in the brain, that the brain was able to slam with utter clarity into my consciousness the second i realized i was being burned.

During the brief chaos the question in my indignant mind was, "WHY AM I BEING BURNED LIKE THIS, I'M USING THE NECESSARY PROTECTION OF A POT HOLDER!?", and
without any delay the answer was already there, "THE POT HOLDER IS WET!"

The screaming synapses didn't actually use words, and they didn't really scream either.. The communication went forth in wordless electrical signals, that i put into words here, for the sake of communicating the experience. The realm of the mind uses words certainly, but words are limiting and often clumsy in attempting to box in or nail down something larger than themselves.

While i examine what happened, i see my brain had understood what was happening to the finger, and while concerned took into consideration other variables and calculated the best course of action was not to drop the pan from it's height of more than three feet above the floor, but to hang on, move a bit farther and place it down on the stove.  Dropping it would have created a number of new potential issues, even further possible injury due to the pan holding hot oil; and not to mention cast-iron pans are quite heavy. Yes, it was better for the brain to conclude that despite the finger's current torment, it wouldn't really be changed much or lengthened by even a second to go forward and release the pan on the stove instead of the floor. The finger was already burned and that couldn't be undone, but containment of the situation meant not dropping the pan. My grip remained steady and i managed to place the pan safely down (though there might have been a slight slamming as it encountered the stove- not the most delicate operation, admittedly).

In a fraction of a second my brain had analyzed the situation and determined the appropriate response, though it all happened so quickly i really didn't think about it in the conscious sense, call it instinct, but in hindsight i'm grateful for the way it worked out. That i didn't drop it.

The mind-brain connection is funny.  Funny strange..  

Even when i began making notes to write about this i was searching in my mental vocabulary for the word "abort". i knew the word i was looking for to express the thought, but couldn't locate it right away.  i remember the word "overt" coming to mind, and thinking, "no, that's not the word i'm looking for."  As i continued combing my brain to find the desired word in it's files.. i actually wrote on a notepad, "military sounding word for turning back..."  It wasn't until i gave up for the moment and left the mental search alone, trusting it would come either to mind or from an internet search, that a few minutes later it was suddenly there, "abort".. YES! That was it; my brain/mind had finally located the word i was seeking.

Yah has created this amazing biological machine of wonder we call flesh, that works without the mind/consciousness (thankfully) in certain capacities, though it may not always work as we would like it too in others.  

The brain can subconsciously calculate in fractions of a second, nearer it seems to instantaneous speed, things the conscious mind would need much longer to work out.

Halleluyah. 

The body with it's brain is really an impossibly indescribable gift we've been given by the Creator.  And we have the conscious-mind to be aware of it, and of Him.

i'm in awe.

O the possibilities with full regeneration in Yah, in the resurrection to complete shalom wholeness. What will be possible when minds and bodies function fully at ultimate capacity? 
It is mind-blowing.

We are the ghosts in the machines.  This beautiful amazing flesh machine built by Abba-Yah that the spirit-man dwells in.  Far superior than any computer man could build because data being processed in our brains can take into consideration things of the spirit.  Praises be to Yah for this amazing thing we call LIFE.


Shalom.

miss understanding

there is such an intense desire to be understood
for someone to get me.
for forever it seems i've sought relief
from a near constant sense of misunderstanding
or worse, rejection
the spirit of rejection, the thorn in my side
my relatively victorious enemy
then it hits me
Yah gets me.
He understands me clearly
and this reality is comforting
its knowledge helps many
a lonely moment pass
again
but still the desire lingers
to be understood by other people
or even just one
completely

dreams

i've decided to start keeping a dream journal again.  this seems like the best place to keep it, and the easiest way to record them since typing is faster than handwriting them out like i used to do.  i may update these entries with interpretations, if i receive any. 

dreams from babylon's 2014/12/18, tZion's 26^th night of the moon:

~ Saw high-school classmates, Liz E. and others.

~ Liz and i got food (she got gigantic slices of pizza) at a to-go counter-type place, she had some small children (her's i think) with her. i took a bite of the pepperoni pizza then realized what i was chewing on and tried to spit it out, even though i did spit it out, i found it still in my mouth. 

~ Used some kind of sword-like implement, swinging it rapidly overhead in a circular motion until it actually began functioning like a helicopter lifting me up off the ground, and i flew. 

~ Darkened room with theater seating, lots of people; facing the back of the room i turned to the left moving down the top row of seats towards what looked like empty seats in the corner, when i got there it turned out they were not all empty, a unknown male sat in the last one, so i sat next to him. We talked. i told him about flying helicopter-like with the sword experience, he was very interested. Later while walking in a crowd somewhere i felt stressed by my lack of friends in the crowd (those i knew seemed to be ignoring me, moving away from me, feelings: rejection, loneliness), when suddenly that same male came up beside me and i felt better. 

the outer relfection of the inner heart's cries

"In a perverse way i was glad for the stitches, glad it would show, that there would be scars.  What was the point in just hurting on the inside?  I though of the girl with the scar tattoos... She was right, it should bloody well show."  -Janet Fitch, White Oleander

 A young girl i'll call LittleRose injured her thumb.  The injury was minor, no more than a bruise.. but for some reason she felt compelled to wrap up her entire hand and wrist with a large bandage, layered so thick round about her limb, that it appeared the problem (?) was much worse.  

     Observing this behavior, what seemed an obvious cry for attention, i was reminded of my own childhood, when i wanted so much to become sick or injured.. i remember eyeing my classmates plaster-casts with a mild envy.  i didn't want a broken bone so badly that i was willing to go out of my way to get one, and to this day now in my 30's i've still never had one (and thankfully no longer want one!).   i did, however, occasionally "suffer" sprains.. basically milking them for all they were worth --bring on the wrappings, crutches, and exaggerated limp--.   i was inwardly thrilled when i saw some part of my extremity swollen and discolored; and though i often abhorred school i didn't want to stay home during those times-- i wanted to parade around!  Only somewhat annoyed the injury wasn't more severe, that i might have a cast.



my scar

   Eventually i grew out of that, after dabbling slightly with violent self-harm (usually called "cutting" i think) for which i have a whooping two scars (that's why i said slightly), of which only one remains fairly visible today.   i specify "violent" self-harm because i did get into plenty of other more passive forms of self-harm (like alcoholism, tobacco and drugs to name the main games i lost at for years).   It would be a long list if i tried to account for all the ways and behaviors i see in hindsight were various cries for attention. 




photo credit: unknown

   As i write this, barefoot and sweating in the mid-west summer humidity, the car parked to the side of me is a flashy Ford Mustang.. bright red with racing stripes and all the extra bells and whistles, aftermarket wheels and grills.. and it's really nothing more than an expensive cry for attention.  



© Joern Sackermann

   Looking around it's easy to see lots of people, young and old, silently crying for attention in some form or another, for some reason or another.  

   Meditating on my own past i see more clearly now what was going on then.. i was so painfully broken on the inside, subconsciously my soul wanted that brokenness, that hidden reality, reflected on the outside.  Somewhere, something in my immature mind knew i needed help; and that part of me was silently crying out.  i couldn't understand the language at the time, and i'm only just beginning to now: the outward signs of a spirit that's crying, "look at me, help me, i'm dying." 



photo credit: unknown

   There's a lot more that could be said about this subject.  There's a lot more i want to say, though i'm thinking this is enough for now.  i feel it's important to keep these posts/blog entries/whatever you want to call them, on the shorter side, if possible.  Most likely i'll be revisiting what has been started here in the future, sharing more about my own personal experiences finally facing the inner darkness where the demons dwelt, and my deliverance from the torment, and process of healing. 

Until then.. Glory to Yah

Shalom.


"...i waited patiently for Yahuah to help me, and He turned to me and heard my cry.  He lifted me out of the pit of despair, out of the mud and the mire. He set my feet on solid ground and steadied me as i walked along.  He has given me a new song to sing, a hymn of praise to our Alahim. Many will see what He has done and be amazed. They will put their trust in Yahuah."

Psalm 40:1-3



mental constipation

photo credit: Daniella Koontz

Babies cry usually because they have some sort of need to express but cannot communicate it. i've thought a lot recently about how i feel like that baby unable to speak of what is going on inside.. only i think it's more frustrating now because i have a language, i have a vocabulary, i actually know how to talk; so why is it so hard to get the thoughts and ideas in my head out my mouth?? Language fails me, my vocabulary falls short; communication is HARD. Sometimes talking to someone who speaks the same language feels like we may as well be from different planets, sure we can understand the words being said, but there is still no communication happening! i'll encounter something that in my spirit i know is wrong but i can't for the life of me explain why. i talk to Yah and end up in tears, having so much in my heart that desires to get out but lacking the ability to put it into words. i ask Him, i admit i've even screamed it, WHY CAN'T i COMMUNICATE? It's like having mental constipation where that which is in is stuck though it wants, it yearns, it needs to get out. Help Yah, O please help me.

good times, bad times, YAH is always there

zion our 2ndday BR #3/3  (babylon-saturnday-4-june-2011)

tonight we are inside
but usually we are sleeping under a large tree
with branches like arms that reach almost to the ground
its beautiful most nights
the cars drive by
leaves rustle with critters
the other night a coyote happened by too
but it still feels lonely even with others sometimes
the best part is YahYah is always there
HE is faithful though when i'm not
PRAISE YAH!
HALLELULYAH!


*      *      *       *          *       * *  *



zion our newmoon-day ARw #1/3   (babylon-friday-3-june-2011)

a walk in the park
a rabbit
a snake escaping its hole
three ravens dancing in the wind
enjoying some shade at the base of a tree
we happened upon a year long treasure hunt
feeling blessed to be a part of it
if only for a minute
later while wondering on the birds happy chattering
YahYah impressed me with the thought of
how HE loves the sound of the voice of HIS children
and i was reminded to pay attention to my own voice
to speak in a tone of my own choosing

*        *          *       *         *         **


zion our 7thday ARw #29/2  (babylon-thursday-2-june-2011)

we are sitting in front of one
but we are not empty buildings
just a few yards away
on the same grass as we're sitting
munching her fill, a small size bunny
she in a shadow while we're in the sunshine
a sign says pico canyon road not too far in the distance
and as people drive by they don't see what i'm witnessing


after thought: don't be empty buildings.. let your FATHER YAH in!

*        *        *       *      *      *   **


zion our 4thday AR #26/2   (babylon-thursday-2-june-2011)

church at mcdonalds
parking lot on the old road
after sunrise in the morning
its been nearly everyday
you see they have a bathroom
and man do you need one
when your camping in the city

*       *       *        *         *       *


zion our 7thday AR #22/2  (babylon-thorsday-26-may-2011)

something is blooming on the hillside along i5
some sort of desert flower out of a spiny bush
it rained here sorta late in the year
its pretty
one massive stalk
at the top many gorgeous white heads
some in full bloom
some soon will be
you'd need an axe to pick this flower!
:)

*       *       *      *       *    *   *



zion our 4thday AR #19/2   (babylon-monday-23-may-2011)

before many days near
stevenson ranch
we all were about to take the mark before we were woken up
a red dragon fly came by for a visit on a nearby bush
across the street some men are up to something

*      *       *     *         *         *      *


zion our 2ndday AR #17/2   (babylon-saturnday-21-may-2011)

a lady at mcdonalds we've been at almost daily
asked today why we are still here
i told her my boss hadn't told me to go yet
now outside we're thinking about signals from YAH
and how we don't know what we're looking for
but we do know when we get it

later a bus backed into the parking spot near us
the side said new hope
one beautiful servant of YahYah prays with us
out of more than a dozen that got off the bus
we sat just a few yards from them
reading the Word

everyday a blank page

HALLELUYAH
we are going home


peace and love in HIS service