Become a Follower of the Big Dude!

Meet the divine Dude in this blog. This Dude has had and seen his share of sacred shit. He's not afraid of it or of its language. I can't relate to a god that's been crucified, but I can relate to one whom my government has imprisoned and humiliated. I can relate to one who's been raped by his own holy men. I can relate to one who grew up playing baseball or soccer and who dated the Prom Queen. I can relate to the god who knows the working of corporate conglomerates, pimps, and teen-age girls who are pregnant. I can relate to the god who loves alcoholics and drug addicts just a tad more than wall street hotshots or so-called holy men who abuse little boys. This Dude thinks all of us are mortal particles in an ocean of sacred shit. This Dude recycles.

Wednesday, September 2, 2015

Me and My Neighbor

Did you ever wonder how the heck we're supposed to go about loving ourselves? I'm thinking abut Jesus' idea that we should love our neighbor as ourselves.  When I watch the news, I can't comprehend the horrific ways we treat our neighbors, but this morning I knew the answer:  We, humans, don't love ourselves.

The outside world mirrors the interior human condition; don't you think?  If I'm worried about the state of the world, perhaps I need to look at the state of Roxanne.  Have I treated myself well this day? Did I eat healthy food?  Did I exercise? Did I rest? Did I journal, meditate, and read for spiritual food?  Did I seek the love and companionship of friends?  The only question I can really ponder is not "Why is the world not at peace?"; it's "Am I at peace?"

I'm not.  I worry about my health.  I get totally frustrated in filling out insurance forms.  I cuss as the pen runs out of ink sending my dog cowering into her crate.  I grit my teeth when the toilet breaks down.  I suspect the worst when a friend doesn't call at the agreed upon time.  I yell at other drivers on my way to the grocery store where I roll my eyes when the person ahead of me has the dreaded coupons.  I'm almost never at peace.  Why should I expect it of the world?

Granted, I don't express my inner rage and fear with weapons of mass destruction and I rarely even use words to state anger at another person.  But, on a spiritual plane, this seems a difference in degree rather than kind.  My anger, however it is expressed, is THE ANGER,  My fear is THE FEAR.  Anger and fear fuel war and terrorism and domestic abuse.  The gun isn't in my hand; it's in my heart at times.

I read the following line somewhere and wrote it on my reminder board at home:  "I am my only project."  I'm thinking if we love ourselves, we love the world.  If we love ourselves, we make a deposit in the world love bank.  Which brings me back to the question of how I go about loving myself.  In a perfect world, I would have learned love from my family.  Many of us didn't learn it there.  My question to my readers is:  What do you do to love yourself?   Roxie

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