Tag Archive | farm

Day 188: God Was Not Part of the Survival Plan

We were driving down a long stretch of road this past week-end as we traveled toward the place where my grandmother’s funeral was being held. It had been years since I’d been on that road and it triggered the thought/image within my mind where I saw myself 6 years old sitting on my grandmother’s front porch watching her as she taught me how to make mud pies in the same pot she’d earlier cooked lunch in.
god is not here

If I were to describe her in a few words, it would be that she was simple, unreactive, physically tough, hardworking and self-sacrificing.

A quiet lady who taught me mostly who she was by her daily routine. It’s interesting because almost every memory I have of her involves physical movement.

I used to watch her as she would wring out wet clothes through her wringer washing machine, and no matter the weather, she hung the clothes outside to dry. She slaughtered her own cattle for meat, churned her own butter, baked her own bread, tilled and planted her own fruit and vegetable garden – canned her own fruits and vegetables and made her own jelly.

She milked her own cows, fried bacon from the hogs she raised and could wring a chicken’s neck quick enough to be sure they never suffered. She carried water daily from her well into a house that didn’t have a flushing toilet or running water until I was close to 12 years old. She made her own clothes and her children’s, her own curtains and blankets and bedspreads, and I never once heard her complain.

She always had many laying hens and roosters, and every morning right after the sun came up, her and I would go open the chicken pen and let them all out to wander about freely.

She taught me to treat all animals gentle and with respect, and the only time I can remember seeing her upset with one of them was when I was 5 years old and one of the roosters attacked me. She grabbed him by the neck and in an instant he was dead and as I stood there in a kind of shock from what I had seen, all she said was: “we can’t have one that will do that Cath, it’s ok, he didn’t suffer”. The only time I saw my grandmother fearful was when, as she put it, “there come up a storm and that’s when we high tailed it to the storm cellar”.

Every evening at my grandmother’s was always the same, and even now I can feel the comfort in how my mind perceived myself as safe as I became accustomed to the daily routine. I’d be swinging on the swing that was hanging from my favorite tree which was right in front of where she’d be sitting in her rocking chair on the long front porch of her small little farm house.

We’d watch the sunset and talk about our day and about the silly things one of the animals may have done. She wasn’t one to laugh very much, in fact, she was a rather serious person. What was important to her was seeing to it that her little farm and her animals were taken care of and she tried to teach me to take responsibility in finishing what I start. All those summers I spent with my grandmother up until I was around 14 years old – I began to realize a sort of silent understanding between us.

I wouldn’t comprehend exactly what that understanding was until years later as I sat in the small country church while some man who was the preacher of the church attempted to share his ‘idea’ of who my grandmother was as her body lay in a casket just in front of him. He spoke about how she was in a better place now because of how she had spent her life believing in the blood of Jesus.

That’s when I had to stop myself from chuckling out loud. All those summers with her and everything she taught me in order to survive in this world, not once was God part of the survival plan.  In fact, God certainly couldn’t be depended upon to “make ends meet”.

Survival is and has always been the name of the game and unfortunately the programming survival system of the human begins with acceptance.  Acceptance was that silent understanding we had between us.  It went without saying.

As a child I began to understand that if one is willing and able to work hard every day to finish what one starts then maybe they’ll survive this dog eat dog world.  So that at the end of the day at least maybe one could sit on their own front porch and quietly rest with the ‘feeling’ that they had accomplished something – then and only then, through an acceptance of slavery, maybe one can make themself believe that Life within this Capitalistic System of self-interest and greed  is somehow worth it, even though deep within us,  we know something is terribly wrong.

I’m beginning to understand the depths of that acceptance. It seals the resolve within us and separates us from life itself. My grandmother became very well at accepting, allowing and thus working hard at suppressing herself in order to survive, and ultimately, she learned to cherish the simplest of things within a world/money system that she knew would eat you alive.

It wasn’t until she started getting older and realized that she was physically unable to continue assisting properly with her own survival.  Only then did she begin to talk about God, and then finally began going to the small country church. It’s interesting how that is, how mostly people seek a God when they realize they aren’t able to survive here on Earth much longer.

In the end, after having 4 children, grandchildren and many great grandchildren, and living to be 97 years old – what did the life of my grandmother teach/prove in the end?

Her life proved to me what I’m realizing more and more every day. That MONEY is God and that no matter who you are Money will motivate you to do and be the very evil you swear you’ll never become.

In the end, she gave over her land to be raped by fracking companies and signed the rights away for all her royalties, which are still coming in, to only one of her children.  She believed her adult child when he told her that in return for everything she owned, he’d see to it that she’d never have to leave her home, her land.

She was betrayed and died in a nursing home.

As for her children, those who were left with nothing but hurt feelings, they don’t speak to the sibling she entrusted her land and life savings with.

Make no mistake about itMoney is the only God and God is certainly Not distributed equally amongst us.

Investigate Equal Money

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Suggested blogs to follow:
Creation Journey to Life
Heaven Journey to Life
Earth Journey to Life

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Day 5: Trust Thy Neighbor As Thyself

I put on my boots to go outside to give the dogs some treats because the ticks here at the moment are the worse they’ve ever been, and even that didn’t stop them from landing on me. As I walked around the yard sharing snacks, and walking under trees, I had 4 ticks drop down onto my bald head, down the side of my face and onto my arm. Ticks dropping from trees! Sneaky little bastards.

I began to sweep the back porch, and Fozzy, our white Pyrenees, whose slightly grumpy at the moment – looked at me as if to say, ‘I’m not movin’. I didn’t blame him. It was obvious that his mood and my mood were equal in that moment.

Fozzy has been grumpy for the past few days, because he’s been stuck in the back yard tied to a 15 foot chain because recently, our neighbor came over to tell us that Fozzy and Remmy, (who are the two older boys of the 5 male dogs we have left) – he said that they had killed his 10 month old pup – Remmy is now also tied to a 12 foot chain.

Our neighbor said that he didn’t actually see them kill the pup, but said he was “sure they did”.
When I asked the specifics, he didn’t really have any. He just said that he already buried his dog. So there was absolutely no proof in his accusation. This is the same neighbor who, when we first moved here almost 4 years ago, told us how he’d just thrown a sack of new born kittens into the river to drown because he just couldn’t afford to feed them.

He didn’t appreciate me telling him at the time how cruel and irresponsible that was. And, I realize now that that set the framework for how I ‘felt’ toward him.

Honestly, I trust my animals. I don’t trust him. He also said that other neighbors were rather “put off” with how our dogs all run together and that they tend to “gang up” on other people’s dogs, (everyone’s dogs around here run freely everywhere).

He said he didn’t want to “alarm us”, but that if we aren’t able to keep them “in the yard”, he’s afraid someone is going to shoot them. So for the past few days Fozzy and Remmy have been in an outside prison with very little room to move, and I don’t like it anymore than they do.

We are looking into what we can afford as other options because, what kind of life is it for them to be tied to one area. Maybe they’d rather enjoy running and playing and taking the risk of being shot rather than being tied up doing time. I know I would much prefer it.

Hell – we’re all stuck in time so why the hell won’t we make time to “Love Thy Neighbor As Thyself“, and “Give as we would like to Receive”.

I applied self-forgiveness out-loud while I swept off the porch and remembered what Bernard wrote in the Face Book group NEIGHBORISM.

“Their is an ISM that will be effective to support all life here in ways that is best for all. it is NEIGHBORISM.”

“NEIGHBORISM will replace capitalism, socialism, communism and all the other ways we have managed the world. With Neighborism the message of Jesus and other teachers that showed that love practically applied means to give as you would like to receive and to love your neighbor as yourself would become a living reality. Equal money and Desteni will get you to Neighborism. If you claim love is the answer, prove it with Neighborism.” – Bernard Poolman

I forgive myself that I’ve accepted and allowed myself to not trust a word that comes out of my neighbors mouth.

I forgive myself for the urge to politely slap my neighbor in the face for his ignorance and abusive nature to animals.

I forgive myself that I’ve accepted and allowed myself to participate in the backchat thought of telling my neighbor to his face that he’s a big fat liar.

I forgive myself that I haven’t realized that my neighbor represents in all ways the part of me that I don’t want to face within myself.

I forgive myself for spiting myself in spite of another.

I forgive myself that I’ve accepted and allowed myself to use spitefulness when I feel powerless.

I forgive myself for standing in spite – instead of in self-honesty.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed-myself to disregard anyone that I believe is telling me a lie.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to deliberately disregard and not hear the words of those that I perceive/experience to be lying to me.

I forgive myself that I haven’t allowed myself to realize, that I deliberately react in anger within myself and then manifest anger as blame directed towards others.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to react in anger towards the words of others within myself instead of investigating the reactions I experienced within myself towards their words.

I forgive myself that I haven’t allowed myself to realize that the reactions within myself towards another’s words are showing/revealing to me that I am not standing equal and one as the words that I was accepting/allowing myself to react to.

I forgive myself that I haven’t allowed myself to realize that I’m actually reacting towards memories/pictures/ideas/perceptions and beliefs that I have of specific words existent within myself and that I’m not actually reacting to/towards the word itself.

I forgive myself that I’ve accepted and allowed myself to fear that I can’t trust my neighbor when actually it is myself that I am not trusting in fear of facing the fact that I’ve not stood in and as a point of self-responsibility for my animals and within that I justified my irresponsibility by blaming my neighbor for how my animals and experiencing themselves.

I see, realize and understand that the point of trusting another isn’t possible until and when one is able to trust self as the living directive principle breathing, walking according to what’s best for all.

When and as I see myself reacting in anger and/or spite to memories/pictures/ideas/perceptions attached to the person and/or the words I hear/see, I Stop. I Breathe. I direct me here within the realization that what I react to and/or see/perceive as fault in another is in actuality a point to be faced and released within myself.

When and as I see myself deliberately disregarding and not hearing the words of those that I perceive/experience to be lying to me – I stop. I breathe. I realize the pattern is me not trusting me – like someone covering their ears and not wanting to see the abuse and atrocity that exists within this world and as our current money system – it’s the same point of self-denial. – Instead I stand and face myself within the lie as the lie is here as me to be forgiven and released.

I see, realize and understand that the words within this blog represent me in how I feel/felt, believed and lived as who I am and that it is only me that I am facing as I walk this process through and as those who walk this process alongside me of which I am grateful for.

I commit myself to becoming the actualization of self-honesty in being the living expression of self-honesty always, in seeing the point and realizing what self has accepted and allowed within the point and transforming self in living action in relation to the point seen and what I’ve realized of self within it.

I commit myself to assisting and supporting myself in standing equal to and one with my human physical body within my process of redefining myself into living words as I assist and support myself to stop the separation of myself as Energy within, and to stand in support of and as all life as I accept and allow myself the patience to push through any remaining resistance in self-honesty until I am equal to and one with myself as living words as me as all as one as equal.