There was a great tragedy in my man’s life recently . . . his sister was randomly murdered by a stranger. There were so many emotions and responses that welled up inside me. Outrage at the senselessness of the cosmic plan. Pain that the one I care deeply for had lost someone he loved. Lost in how to help him through his suffering. I stepped back and didn’t try to analyze it, feel it, control it. I didn’t act on or blurt out any of the random responses that scurried through my mind. Rather I let him do what he must and made sure he knew I would be there should he need anything. I let him go to process his feelings and make peace with his heartbreak.

He has gone off to both mourn with his family and deal with the business details of death. Though I want so to be the one that comforts him, I have been able to see that the relationship is too young and our time together too short. I’m okay with being the life he has to return to once he has come to terms with his loss. I learned that sometimes we have to release not only the ones we love, but also our own selfish needs. Its not enough to accept another without judgment. You have to be willing to let them follow their path even when it diverges from your own. He will return to me when he is done, no conditions or timeline. When he is ready, we will continue our journey together.

Writing is my outlet, how I purge the negative, contemplate the illusion, and celebrate the joys. I resolve through my writing. In crafting the words, I come to understand better both myself and my reality. Should my words touch someone now and then, it is a joy to feel that connection, that sharing, that momentary reintegration with the prevailing oneness. I write for the love of it and by the compulsion of it. Without it I am not complete, but it is still only a part of me.

Here in this blog I have exposed the product of processing my thoughts as I’ve dealt with them. The words are not a literal accounting, rather the means to evoke a feeling, impart an experience, share a knowing. This place is the time capsule that preserves the moments as they happen. I have not edited or held back to maintain a persona or keep from offending people that may see themselves in the words and misconstrue my intent . . . until just recently.

It was stupid really. I sense it is a game, but it impacted me nonetheless. It was a confrontation I easily could have missed. As karma would have it, there was something for me to learn, so it was brought to my attention. I didn’t know how to react, so I stepped back. This time though the compromise was to my integrity, not my ego. I wrote as I do to sort out my feelings, but I did not post. I’ve spent significant time thinking about why. What I have come to realize is that I was censuring myself again, worrying about another’s perception. I had stepped back from the situation, but I consequently stepped back from being true to myself and my promise not to return to those old ways of retreat and isolation.

I’ve decided its time to step back in. I’ve made the decision to post those things I wrote and continue posting regardless someone else’s paranoia. That’s what’s right for me and others will have to just get over themselves. I don’t have this blog to impress people, sway others to a cause, gain recognition, or seduce anyone. This is the reminder of the journey I keep for myself and share with others as our paths cross and intertwine. This is the jewelry box were I store my Demure Pearls. Think what you may . . .

“This is Demure’s domain and she reigns here . . . I challenge you to permit the words to touch you . . . Demure demands the emotions seize you. She and I encourage you to love it, hate it, praise it, condemn it, cherish it, reject it, feel anything you want to about it, except indifference. Here it is safe to examine the hope and the pain — raw, unrefined — and to cry or laugh. Here you can freely wander through the emotional morass of love and life in the extreme. Here you can contemplate the disturbing, arousing, moving, illuminating wonder that is her domain. Here you are invited to look into yourself and Demure will happily be your guide.”

This is one of my favorite verse in the Bible. Psalm 20 v 4 - May God give you the desire of your heart and make all of your plans succeed.

"Do you really think you'll find one if you look hard enough?" he asked me, slightly mocking my stubborn gaze.

"Yes," I said, "because I want a table badly enough."

"Explain."

I took out a pad and pen and made him a chart with want, desire, and fortitude mapped out.

I wish I still have that chart.

Days like today, stupid days when desire trumps fortitude, I think about those lines and how beautifully mistaken I was.

My skin burns and crawls these days. At random moments, I will get a chill down my spine as the memories float into my awareness.

I need to submit to him.

I need to be bent and taken.

I need to feel the sting of his hands, the nip of his teeth.

I need to see the intensity of his eyes.

I need to hear the low growl in his voice.

I need to give in to him and give him everything.

Then, I need him to soothe me and make me whole again.

Not to make excuses for my own part in that, but there are a lot of external pressures, both from society at large and from family and friends.  With the latter especially, it may be well-meaning pressure, but that doesn't make it any less distressing; in fact it can be much harder to cope with loved ones than with society, because you are more likely to care what your loved ones think of you.  I should also say that sometimes I am my own worst enemy, in that I can be especially sensitive and self-conscious about my state in life, so that if a friend offers me fashion advice, I may assume she's telling me I am not attractive enough, or if my mother comments on how much she wishes she had grandchildren, I may assume that she is profoundly disappointed in me, maybe even a little resentful.  Such assumptions likely have little or nothing to do with reality.  More likely, they are whispers of the devil.  Whispers that are actully more like spears that know exactly where your armor is weak. 

The real problem is giving heed to those whispers of the devil.  The desire to find a spouse, the desire to have a happy and fulfilling life, the desire to win esteem from those around us--these are all perfectly natural and good and necessary drives.  Our hearts naturally yearn for love, happiness, and approval.  But our hearts, fallen as they are, often seek them in the wrong places.  They seek them in the world... the world that is too often in thrall to the devil and chock full of pitfalls and mesmerizing diversions.  Yearning after things in the world is the very root of all idolatry.  We may not make idols as ancient pagans did--we don't have to make them.  They are already here, everywhere we turn.  Everything in this world, including our own hearts, our own natures, are susceptible to distortion and corruption.

So clearly, we must look beyond this world.  We must reinforce the weak spots in our armor.  We must shore up our courage and be very vigilant.  We must keep our minds trained upon what is real, what is good, what is true, what is right, what is at hand right now.  We must pray for our society and we must assume the best of our loved ones--or at least be willing to forgive and forget any seeming inconsideration or careless slips of the tongue on their part.  Above all, we must cling fast to our true God, our only true God, our only help and our only hope.  Ultimately, despite all the outside influences, it all comes down to us and God and the relationship between us.

I find the image of God as our Good Shepherd especially powerful in keeping me close to Him.  God is always there for us.  He lets us run loose, hurry ahead, dally behind.  He speaks to us, calls after us, but He doesn't force us to listen.  He even lets us run straight into trouble if we really have our hearts set on it--and let's face it, we often do, and in those moments, we couldn't care less about Him or where He is or the sound of His voice.  But He is there when we need Him and want Him.  If our hands reach out for Him, they will find Him.  If we cry for Him, He will come.  He is ever alert to our little bleats.  He may break our little sheep legs if we wander off one too many times--but that is an act of mercy, not punishment, and He will carry us is His own arms, especially close to His heart, until we heal and start running around again. 

And then, there is the Crucifix.  Nothing sums up the relationship between God and mankind like the Crucifix.  St. John of the Cross said:  "Whenever anything disagreeable or displeasing happens to you, remember Christ crucified and be silent."  Before a Crucifix, there can be no complaining, no quarreling, no rebellion, no self-pity, no shaking your fist at God.  Not if you really look at it and think about it.  There is just the stark realization that God's love for us is so vast that it is beyond our understanding.  I think it's a really good idea to buy your own Crucifix for your home.  I have a couple.  And sometimes it helps to take one down from the wall, into my own hands.  Somehow it becomes even more "real."  If I can pray in no other way, I just take the Crucifix and hold it and look at it and press it against my shoulder.  And that helps me to feel very close to God and to His Sacrifice.

Finally, I wouldn't be much of a Dominican if I didn't recommend the Rosary!  It is another really good way to draw us into the life and the person of our Lord, with help from His mother Mary.  When I first started praying the Rosary, I found this site most helpful.  For each decade of each set of Mysteries, it gives 10 brief meditations.  It's a good way to get into the habit of meditating while praying the vocal prayers.

Those are just a few things that help me to remain focused on God and His love for me and my love for Him.  That is of the utmost importance in order for any of us to find any kind of happiness.  As Georges Bernanos writes in The Diary of a Country Priest, "[God] is not the master of love, He is love itself.  If you wish to love, do not put yourself beyond love's reach."

First, consult with a professional dog handler or a professional dog trainer to learn about certain dog personalities of different breeds, and try to match what you want with what a particular dog has to offer. Also, talk to a veterinarian about your choice of a purebred or mixed breed dog. The professional trainers and vets' opinions are invaluable, as they handle many different dogs every day and have first hand knowledge of the characteristics, and qualities of different types of dogs and breeds.

You can choose between a purebred dog or a mixed breed dog. The advantages of purebred dogs are consistency of appearance, size, coat type, and color. If you decide on a German Shepherd breed, you can be certain it will grow to a certain size...It will be similar to other German Shepherds in appearance...Its color, temperament, coat, etc will be similar to other German Shepherds. Purebred dogs generally have more genetic faults and deformities than do mixed breeds.

Mixed breed puppies may mature to look like their dam, their sire (if known) or neither. Their coats may be rough, smooth, or wiry. Adult mixed breeds are difficult to ascertain, as are their expressions. These variations are multiplied when either or both parents are from mixed backgrounds. Mixed breeds usually have a certain amount of heterosis ( increased vigor or other superior qualities that come from crossbreeding), which, under some circumstances, result in stronger and more disease-resistant dogs. A mixed breed puppy is likely to have a very individual personality, seemingly unrelated to either of its parents.

The temperament of mixed breeds are often quieter and more stable than those of purebreds, although this characteristic is not consistent. Temperament is partially genetic and partly the result of experience and training. Many purebreds have a notably quiet temperament, and an occasional mixed breed is unpredictable.

Before you select a purebred or a mixed breed, decide what you expect of the dog. If you have a desire to exhibit it in conformation shows, obedience trials, field trials, herding tests, or other American Kennel Club sponsored events, you must start out with a purebred.

If you want a companion, a family pet, or a child's dog and have no aspirations of winning blue ribbons, a mixed breed should fill your need nicely. Mixed breed puppies and adult dogs are plentiful, both from shelters and private homes. They cost less to buy, and may be easier to handle. Mixed breed dogs can compete in Frisbee contests, 4-H obedience, and non-AKC agility trials, and are included in the AKC-sponsored Canine Good Citizen program.

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_{"In a typical week, only 6 percent of children ages nine to thirteen play outside on their own."
from The Option of Urbanism: Investing in a New American Dream by Christopher B. Leinberger}

I have a bacchanal taking place in my heart tonight. I am the lightning of long forgotten gods, and the wine that tainted their lips. I know the strangest dreams, so full of furor and wanting. I hear the clashing of cymbals and the pounding of bass drums in my mind, and the world dances about me in a stream of colour, one melding with the next because I am only an echo in this place. I beg each restless fibre of my being to have a little charity. I'm running but I'm standing still, winning but losing -

"What?"

My watch, you know the time? I've forgotten that somewhere along this hurried line I drew with only a piece of a chalk. There's no way back, now the tide is high and with that line went purpose and clarity, the things of every moment, the things of presence and sense and surety. The curve of a day, that graceful arc is gone.

Though, my song will slow and not cease, this I know, and this I dread. That even this will grow heavy, and leave me wanting.

There is an underlying anticipation to each bullet I fire from this gun.

It is only when she hits a target that she comes undone.

And later the apology, the dreadful apology that is coming down to rest in the sounds of silence. For then, looking up, you may perceive a fair day that shines like a pretty penny or two.

But they do not make you richer.

They don't even compare.

Find your dream.
Do the things that make you happy. Embrace the gifts of the illusion.

Find your love.
That ecstasy the closest we come in this existence of melting into one.

Find your self.
Its hard to do, but you’re allowed to forgive, both yourself and them too.

Find your life.
What is past is just that. There are no beginnings or endings, only now.

I couldn’t write last night

I wanted to but I stared at the TV instead, blasted by image... I must have passed out, for I awoke with my clothes on and no blanket over me...I laid there like that for the rest of the night, too spent to even make myself more comfortable for a couple of hours. The morning seemed to move slowly with alarms going off at different times. I just let them ring themselves out, the life within them spent as well; wondering why we get up everyday and do it all again, even if our days are filled with nothingness,

A momentary embrace could be a fatal blow or a moment that lasts into eternity. Images blend and fade, move and disappear; so many images as to lose your grip upon your own. I stared into the mirror and my image turned into a thousand images, a thousand voices; endless, searing voices of lament and anguish. There were too many choices and all the choices were the same. An endless feast lay out upon the tables; grasped at in a frenzied dance of uncertainty.

The inner voice speaks with authority. This is what you need to feel good, know accomplishment; have temporary peace. Everyone tries on dissimilar masks, something to quench the fire of longing, keeping them busy for the duration of life. The voice inside is never satisfied, never content; the conspiracy within. There is only one image I desire, in a moment of calm before I leave; the image that is splashed upon my soul and etched deeply past my bones. My own image fades within hers and we become something else, something stronger, more defiant. As if to say, that to try to separate us is pointless, what you thought you had no longer exists. Alas, even this image is not real. But it is the only one worthy in an illusion of dimensions I cannot fathom.

I have to take a shower, there’s no coffee and the sirens are howling. And as was the first page of life for Harry, I too am unmoved and only wanting the black liquid to fill my loneliness, fill the space that only her presence can sooth.

I freely admit to being a writer. I have crafted much from my imagination. Still, I do not lie. There is a piece of me in everything I write, beautiful and ugly.

I freely admit to being a woman. I am vain, selfish and sometimes self serving. Still, I will not steal. What I have, what I am is mine. I own it, good and bad.

I freely admit to being a wonderer. My journey not geographic. Still, I travel the byways of self-realization, such my adventure . . . always lost, but finding.

Desire Unlocked, But for Whom?

गोहाटी, अक्तूबर, 2007

Guwahati, October, 2007

दिल में दर्द उगते हैं
साँसें ठण्डी-ठण्डी हैं,
मेरा हर ख़ाब टूटा है
ख़ाहिश भीख लगी है

डालों से फूल गिर गये
ख़ुशबू के मौसम गये,
आइनों ने धोखा दिया
ज़िन्दा तस्वीर लगी है

रोशनी का दरिया बहे
मुझे कोई अपना कहे,
वह ख़लिश बुझाये तो
ज़िंदगी मरीज़ लगी है

I don't know if this is really the right definition of a shopaholic, but I think my only saving grace is that I know that I can't afford the things I truly covet.  I long to feel the soft leathery goodness of a Coach purse in my hands.  I would love to own a beautiful pair of Christian Louboutin shoes with the trademark red soles; I long for these even though I would most likely never wear them because I'm about as graceful as a linebacker in high heels.  I drool at the thought of possessing anything with the Tiffany insignia on it, preferably draped in diamonds and a platinum setting. 

I see the finer things and realize that I will never in a million trillion years ever be in possession of them.  I refuse to go into some really serious debt for these things.  I know this, and yet...

I stalk the pages of eBay wondering if anyone would be willing to part with these treasures at some kind of discounted price.  I flip through the pages of Amazon hoping that there is a way that these beautiful baubles could be mine.  I look through Craig's List to see if someone is going through a bad break up, rejected marriage proposal or the final purge of their possessions in the hope that someone will pay enough for them to be able to pay a bill or two while they wait for another job comes along.  I am hoping that someone else's misfortune could benefit me in some way, shape or form.  That just feels wrong.

My desire for finer things has never put me in possession of them.  I have a small Coach clutch, but I'm pretty sure that it is fake.  The price I paid for it would tell me that this is a fact.  Yet I still treasure it deeply, because in my heart I believe that it just might be a real Coach purse.  It's like everytime I would go to a flea market believing that I had found the Prada paradise and hit a jackpot only to realize that there is no way in hell that a real Prada purse would sell for $50, and then still have the label fall off like two hours after the purchase. 

My Amazon page is a testament to the things I would love to get my grubby little hands on.  It is filled with purses, jewelery, make up, books, movies, CD's, video games, electronics and collectibles that I will not be able to get anytime in the near future but I still look at them online anyway.  I get emails from Amazon, eBay and Overstock.com telling me that if I liked this item then I might like this other item.  Well, of course I would but that doesn't mean that I could afford to buy either of those things.  No matter how much it's price has been reduced, it's still out of the affordable price range. 

Therefore in order to absolve myself of the pain of not being able to afford designer items, I go to my Holy Lands (Ulta, Sephora, Target, etc.) and load up on things not designer but not off brand either. 

I can't seem to make myself go cheap on my make-up.  I've tried, but once I found something that I loved it was too hard to go back.  Since I can no longer afford the make-up that I know and love, I squirrel it away and save it for special occasions choosing to leave the house it cheap imitation or none at all.  I continue to buy expensive nail polish for reasons that I can't really justify other than loving the particular colors that are available.  It's not like I'm doing my own nails so I can't say that I'm spending more because it covers better because let's face it, I'm going to go home after getting my nails done and add another coat of the color anyway just because I don't think it's dark enough or covered enough.  It's what I do.  The worst part is, I think I only use these colors once or twice a year and that is becoming less and less due to the fact that I continue to buy more and more every year.  

I buy more anti-aging stuff than I most likely need, but I tell myself that I have nice, soft wrinkle free skin because of the serums, lotions and creams that I have been buying since I turned 25.  I have at least eight different kinds of hand and body lotions because I'm determined to find the perfect balance between silky soft and non greasy.  None of it is scented either because I'm allergic to anything with scent in it.  Yet when I got my two recent tattoos and the guy told me to use lotion after the two days of Neosporin cream, I went to my local Walgreens and I bought new lotions because I didn't want to do anything to ruin the tattoos.  Yeah, the eight I already had at home would have been just fine. 

I hated Crocs when I first saw them.  Then I tried on and bought one pair.  Now I basically have them in every color in the rainbow.  Plus those little hole fillers to go with them.  I wasn't able to stop at one color that would work with everything I own.  No, I had to have a color that represented my favorite football teams and my favorite colors.  Then I had to have the Jibbitz to again represent my favorite football teams, hobbies, holidays, activities, animals and of course cartoon characters.  Of course because I'm a freak like this, I couldn't wear the shoes that are good year round so I bought the Croc sandals.  It never stops.  It's a vicious circle.   

I still buy books when I live within comfortable walking distance of my local library (and it's not like I don't have the comfortable shoes to get me there).  I don't go because I still feel anger towards the way that working in a library made me feel.  Again, my Amazon account is a testament to this reading bender that I tend to go on.  I continue to buy TV show seasons on DVD even though I didn't particularly enjoy them when they were actually on TV.  I look at my stacks and piles and shelves lined with these things.  I read/watch them all once and then put them away never to look at them again, but because I enjoy the thrill that owning them gives me, I won't part with them. 

I buy jewelry so often that you would think that I'm actually buying it to wear it somewhere.  I have more necklaces, earrings, watches and rings than I actually know what to do with.  Every time I buy a new one, I take the last one I was wearing and I put it away in one of my (get ready for it) eight jewelery boxes.  These items are rarely ever seen again until I'm looking at all the places where I stash jewelery and then wonder what the hell is in them.  I go through them, look at them, remember and then either trash the chains that are broken/tangled or put everything back to be forgotten about for another year. 

My shopping compulsion is a dedication to excess.  All because I love the momentary thrill that buying these items gives me.  It's usually when I get up to the check out counter that the buyers remorse begins.  Yeah, I haven't even bought them yet, and the remorse begins.  You think that I would take that as a sign to, I dunno, put everything back.  No, instead I stand there sweating over it and second guessing my choices.  Wondering if I should; put away the wallet because I already love the wallet that I own, or put away the big jar candle because I already have six back ups at home and only four rooms to put them in, or the pen because what am I going to do with a disposable pen when I have beautiful refillable pens waiting for me in both my purse and at home.  And then I realize that I'm next and it's basically too late to leave the line now (no, it really isn't) so I go ahead and make the purchases only to immediately go home and hide what I've done from my husband.  The idea of returning the items really never enters my mind, because that would just be too embarrassing.   By the way, those items only get hidden for like a day and then I get too excited over them again and end up showing everything to him one at a time on different days, but never ever in the same week because I can't let him now how bad the addiction has gotten. 

It doesn't matter if I bought every single one of those things on sale or clearance or at a closing out price.  The fact is that I bought them.  I bought something stupid and useless when I could have bought something that we really needed.  Even telling myself that I bought the stuff that we needed before I bought stupid and useless first doesn't relieve the guilt that I feel for buying the items in the first place.  The fact that I get a rush when I go grocery shopping with my husband and knowing that I snuck in something that's just for me, is enough.  I stand there at the check out with him none the wiser while I sweat over whether or not he's going to see my humidity resistant hair spray (um, yeah right) and say anything about it and when he doesn't, I feel the rush. 

I guess I should be happy that this isn't a drug addiction or alcohol addiction, but still...

So I guess what I'm trying to say is, what gets your heart racing?

The untapped potential of society is held back by people seeing problems and dreaming things could be better, but not doing anything about it.

After all, the "chemical formula" of joy or happiness is fulfilling your desire.

Everyone is struggling to attain happiness and avoid misfortune. From the commonplace affairs of individuals to the great events that shape the course of history, each is at root an expression of the human aspiration for ever greater happiness. How, then, does happiness arise?

People feel joy when their desires are fulfilled. The word "desire," however, is often not understood in its original sense, because in the present circumstances our desires tend to pursue evil rather than good. Desires which result in injustice do not emanate from a person's original mind. The original mind is well aware that such desires lead to misfortune. Therefore, it repels evil desires and strives to follow the good. Even at the cost of their lives, people seek for the joy that can enrapture the original mind. This is the human condition: we grope along exhausting paths to cast off the shadow of death and search for the light of life.

- Ryan Dixon

Anyway, I was discussing things with the other various groups.  I noted that, in every religion, if you want something to happen or anything, all you have to do is will what you want to happen.  For instance, in Christianity, one turns to God and requests something.  Through faith (aka will) and all the rest, God answers.  For the Wiccans, one concentrates their will into something or other and something eventually comes about.  Now, I do not question the validity of their claims that it works, I am more concerned with the point of the practice.  Would I will anything different?  Am I wise enough to make such a decision?

There's a lot of religious fade revealing this "secret" method of getting what you want, but I am wondering if it is wise to will what you (the individual) want.  In the oneness, there is nothing to will because you have already willed and are currently willing it.  I guess the better question is: "why are you willing it?" But, I believe the answer is: "for no other reason than it's fun."

When you will something to happen, understand there is an effect and, although something positive is happening for you, there is always a price.  The price is something negative elsewhere.  Of course, if you will something negative for yourself, there is positive elsewhere, though that tends to create suffering for yourself.  I believe the best thing is to will nothing and just have fun with that which is immediately apparent.

People tend to worry about the "morality" of just having fun.  They tend to think that if we just have fun, we will lay around all day doing nothing.  What do I have to say about that? Let them, if they think laying around all day is fun, then let them.  But, I have reasonable assurance that eventually they won't find it fun anymore.  Especially, when they begin to deteriorate...ha ha!

The Lesson

I don’t want you

But I want you to take hold of me tight

Tug my hair

Kiss me with thee utmost care

Then rough handle me

Ever fair

I don’t want you

But I want you to grab my hand

Press me up against the wall

Then pause

With your tormenting tease

As I breathlessly whisper

Please…

For being mad is not to share

Like a feeling

Of pleasure or care

It should be me sitting

Casually here

And you sitting

Punished

Right there

So go on, further away

I’ve got better things to do

But wait, just before you leave

I want you

Oh, I want you to!

***************************

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The beautiful painting above this poem

Is entitled The Lady of Shallott by Shadwater

Now something about that just doesn't feel right. For one thing, it's not exactly a reasonable hope: the odds that someone will actually win a substantial amount in the lottery are astonishingly low. Furthermore, many lottery winners actually end up losing everything due to poor spending and investment strategies and the strains that develop in one's marriage or family relationships (although thankfully, there are some exceptions). Acquiring sudden wealth more often than not amplifies character flaws and changes the way people see you. Rather than a person, you suddenly become a source of easy money. It's not for nothing that the apostle Paul cautioned Timothy that "the love of money is the root of all evil." (1 Timothy 6:10)

Aside from the personal problems associated with winning the lottery, a case can be made that it is very anti-American. Matthew Warshauer reminds us that for most of America's history people understood that in order to take full advantage of the opportunities America had to offer, they would have to work hard and spend wisely. "Americans have traditionally centered their efforts on thrift and hard work...For many the goal was not extravagant wealth, but, rather, economic independence and the opportunity for social advancement through financial gain."

But due in part to industrialization and the concomittant decline in the value of skilled labor, people's perceptions began to change. After World War II America's obsession with accumulating material goods accelerated, leaving behind earlier generations' vision of prosperity. The irony is, as Warshauer explains it, is that "[this shift in values] has actually spurred rather than lessened the people’s desire to achieve the American Dream.  Yet the real difference is that the Dream has become more of an entitlement than something to work towards.  Many Americans no longer entertain a vision for the future that includes time, sweat, and ultimate success.  Rather, they covet the shortcut to wealth.  Many who are engaged in work view it more as a necessary evil until striking it rich."

And one of the main factors encouraging this perception is-yep, you guessed it-the lottery: "All one needs is "A Buck and a Dream," boasts the New York Lottery...the lottery focuses on the hope of easy money with minimal effort.  One does not need to work hard in order to choose a series of numbers."

Of course, there's nothing wrong in itself with the notion of getting a financial boost when one is in a tight spot or to begin the realization of a dream, like opening one's own business or paying off a mortgage. And the Lottery can boast of generating large amounts of revenue which directly benefits the city or the state. Warshauer reminds us that "In 1612, the British crown authorized the Virginia Company of London to hold a lottery to aid the Jamestown colony.  During the colonial period and after, Americans held lotteries to raise funds for internal improvements and defense."

But it's the underlying mentality which is symptomatic of a distortion of the desires of many Americans. Easy money, it is fair to say, is often more trouble than it's worth. In financially challenging times, the best medicine can be the acknowledgment that life will include setbacks and hardship (again, welcome to the VUCA world) but that these can be overcome with the resolve to make the most out of one's talents and abilities and never give up.  Another very important part of the medicine is the realization that "life is more than food, and the body more than clothing." (Luke 12:23) I know it may sound hypocritical to say that when I personally am not in any danger of losing my food and clothing. But if and when that time comes I will try my best to keep that lesson always before me.

The true meaning of life is not to be found in consumption, even of necessities. It is found in rightly ordering one's desires towards the true end (telos) of human nature, which is life with God. And that life is truly without limits of any kind.

was it physical or did you want to make love to me

should I have kept my distance

should I have stayed cold

my heart aches

will you love me

can you love me

will I let you

can I

I shouted

sang

danced

painted

screamed

cried

my love for you

your silencce rang forever

your doubt dampened my flame

and now you want me to dance again

I'm tired

so tired, I say

Again! Again!

you pray

swearing this time you'll

see

hear

feel

smell

taste

believe

me.

my love.

my heart.

my devotion.

but I'm so tired

I weakly say