Thursday, July 31, 2014
The id Post: This Is the Me I Used to Be
The id Post: This Is the Me I Used to Be: by Irene Daniel Selling, moving, rearranging; yes indeed, my life is changing Cleaning, packing, scraping, painting, lo and behold ...
This Is the Me I Used to Be
by Irene Daniel
Selling, moving,
rearranging;
yes indeed,
my life is changing
Cleaning, packing,
scraping, painting,
lo and behold
husband fainting
Hope we sell
this sucker fast,
what cheer remains
just cannot last
Cops called for
family drama
For sure this day
is wrought with trauma
And suddenly, I get a glimpse
of the me I used to be
both frightened child
and heart of glee
I see the lonely one
studying, reading
and writing from
the soul that's bleeding
Always, always
moving forward
to chase the dream
that I march toward
And when I get there
Once again
I start all over --
And then?
And then is when
I clearly see
this is the me
I used to be
Irene Daniel Copyright 2014 All rights reserved
Selling, moving,
rearranging;
yes indeed,
my life is changing
Cleaning, packing,
scraping, painting,
lo and behold
husband fainting
Hope we sell
this sucker fast,
what cheer remains
just cannot last
Cops called for
family drama
For sure this day
is wrought with trauma
And suddenly, I get a glimpse
of the me I used to be
both frightened child
and heart of glee
I see the lonely one
studying, reading
and writing from
the soul that's bleeding
Always, always
moving forward
to chase the dream
that I march toward
And when I get there
Once again
I start all over --
And then?
And then is when
I clearly see
this is the me
I used to be
Irene Daniel Copyright 2014 All rights reserved
Thursday, July 24, 2014
The id Post: The Central American Refugees Need Protection from...
The id Post: The Central American Refugees Need Protection from...: by Irene Daniel For the past few weeks we have witnessed the consequences of our American choices, and now must come face to face with the...
The Central American Refugees Need Protection from US; It's the Least We Should Do
by Irene Daniel
For the past few weeks we have witnessed the consequences of our American choices, and now must come face to face with the human beings who are suffering from an international crisis of our own making. The drug consumption in the United States drives the greater and greater demand for them. Since most of them come from South America, it is necessary to traffic these drugs through Central America and Mexico; creating a culture of violence that none can escape, except to just leave.
As if that weren't bad enough, what we give back in exchange is the fresh hell of guns and gangs that we export to them, empowering the violence that naturally flows therefrom. These children were strong enough to survive, not only their war-torn homeland, but the treacherous journey to the US border. When I see the throngs of "patriots" and "Christians" surrounding buses full of these incredibly brave children, I wonder how many of them could have overcome any one of the many challenges these young refugees have endured. I would bet exactly zero on the air-conditioned Americans to make it through a hell like that.
And then to be greeted by American flags, angry white faces and signs saying, "JESUS WOULD OBEY THE LAW!"
They're kidding, right? Jesus was murdered because he was a trouble-maker, a rabble-rouser of the highest order. Jesus made it his mission to disrupt the inequity and brutality of the status quo of his times, which served only to empower the powerful and enrich those already unjustly enriched.
The Son of Man went about his mission in various ways: preaching justice, peace and love to those on the margins of society, empowering them Spiritually; healing the sick on the Sabbath at no cost; encouraging youth and lavishing his love on children; as well as empowering women, even menstruating and "fallen" women, which was very taboo at the time.
And one day, he became so angry at the money-changers in the temple, exploiting the impoverished in the name of God, that he took a bull-whip to them all, overturning their tables full of money; and generally causing a huge ruckus. This act directly challenged and threatened the rules of the game, as set by the very Pharisees who, like their self-righteous counterparts today, didn't want the convenience of their Darwinian status quo upended.
Jesus specifically disobeyed the law of his time and his people by healing the sick on the Sabbath. When reprimanded by the Pharisees, he retorted by holding up a mirror to their hypocrisy for being more concerned with obedience to arbitrary rules, than with the suffering of human beings right before them. His shocking display of violence at the temple was definitely not in keeping with the moral conduct expected of him in Jerusalem at that time.
Jesus realized how the elite and powerful use rules and boundaries and tradition to exploit those without power and without means. So, how did the Jesus of the Sermon on the Mount become a compassionless observer of rules? When did the famous challenger of the Pharisees, become that which he abhorred?
The true message of Jesus, as well as with any religion, is to love one another, and to recognize the soul of the stranger, the heart of the homeless beggar, and to preserve the innocence of our children. To be a disciple of the Son of Man is to surrender one's very soul to the power of love and acceptance of everyone and, especially, to see past our differences to the oneness of our humanity.
Oneness. Humanity. What is it about these words that the, so called Christian right can't seem to understand? It seems that they believe that God, with Jesus at his right hand, created the USA just for stingy white people, and no one else.
How Christian is that? How American is that?
Those angry "Christian" "Americans" shouting at children, telling them that they are "less than" don't deserve to call themselves either.
The least we could do is provide them refuge from the hell we created for them. It's the very least we should do.
Irene Daniel Copyright 2014 All rights reserved.
For the past few weeks we have witnessed the consequences of our American choices, and now must come face to face with the human beings who are suffering from an international crisis of our own making. The drug consumption in the United States drives the greater and greater demand for them. Since most of them come from South America, it is necessary to traffic these drugs through Central America and Mexico; creating a culture of violence that none can escape, except to just leave.
As if that weren't bad enough, what we give back in exchange is the fresh hell of guns and gangs that we export to them, empowering the violence that naturally flows therefrom. These children were strong enough to survive, not only their war-torn homeland, but the treacherous journey to the US border. When I see the throngs of "patriots" and "Christians" surrounding buses full of these incredibly brave children, I wonder how many of them could have overcome any one of the many challenges these young refugees have endured. I would bet exactly zero on the air-conditioned Americans to make it through a hell like that.
And then to be greeted by American flags, angry white faces and signs saying, "JESUS WOULD OBEY THE LAW!"
They're kidding, right? Jesus was murdered because he was a trouble-maker, a rabble-rouser of the highest order. Jesus made it his mission to disrupt the inequity and brutality of the status quo of his times, which served only to empower the powerful and enrich those already unjustly enriched.
The Son of Man went about his mission in various ways: preaching justice, peace and love to those on the margins of society, empowering them Spiritually; healing the sick on the Sabbath at no cost; encouraging youth and lavishing his love on children; as well as empowering women, even menstruating and "fallen" women, which was very taboo at the time.
And one day, he became so angry at the money-changers in the temple, exploiting the impoverished in the name of God, that he took a bull-whip to them all, overturning their tables full of money; and generally causing a huge ruckus. This act directly challenged and threatened the rules of the game, as set by the very Pharisees who, like their self-righteous counterparts today, didn't want the convenience of their Darwinian status quo upended.
Jesus specifically disobeyed the law of his time and his people by healing the sick on the Sabbath. When reprimanded by the Pharisees, he retorted by holding up a mirror to their hypocrisy for being more concerned with obedience to arbitrary rules, than with the suffering of human beings right before them. His shocking display of violence at the temple was definitely not in keeping with the moral conduct expected of him in Jerusalem at that time.
Jesus realized how the elite and powerful use rules and boundaries and tradition to exploit those without power and without means. So, how did the Jesus of the Sermon on the Mount become a compassionless observer of rules? When did the famous challenger of the Pharisees, become that which he abhorred?
The true message of Jesus, as well as with any religion, is to love one another, and to recognize the soul of the stranger, the heart of the homeless beggar, and to preserve the innocence of our children. To be a disciple of the Son of Man is to surrender one's very soul to the power of love and acceptance of everyone and, especially, to see past our differences to the oneness of our humanity.
Oneness. Humanity. What is it about these words that the, so called Christian right can't seem to understand? It seems that they believe that God, with Jesus at his right hand, created the USA just for stingy white people, and no one else.
How Christian is that? How American is that?
Those angry "Christian" "Americans" shouting at children, telling them that they are "less than" don't deserve to call themselves either.
The least we could do is provide them refuge from the hell we created for them. It's the very least we should do.
Irene Daniel Copyright 2014 All rights reserved.
Thursday, July 17, 2014
Thursday, July 10, 2014
The id Post: I Close My Eyes
The id Post: I Close My Eyes: by Irene Daniel I close my eyes and I am in the desert, la tierra of my youth. I smell the earth and feel the breeze, and I am hot, ...
I Close My Eyes
by Irene Daniel
I close my eyes
and I am in the desert,
la tierra of my youth.
I smell the earth
and feel the breeze,
and I am hot, hot, hot.
I see the succulents shrivel
as lizards and gophers
scamper about.
Morning shade gives way
to brilliant sunshine
and the heat
of nature's oven.
No escape, except inside
with air conditioning.
Neither shade nor swamper
can tame the demon heat.
And then I see
the earth turn orange
with the color of the sunset,
sky and earth are one
and show off many colors.
Blue, purple, peach,
red, orange, fuchsia;
blend into a miracle
of a dusty dusk
that transforms to
a moonless night
when stars overcome
the dark spaces,
and sometimes fall
from the sky.
And then the desert
comes alive
with predators nocturnal;
the mountain lion,
the spider,
the bat,
hungry and awake
as prey animals hide.
And then the morning
comes again
another glorious miracle
of light and clouds and earth.
Sweet cool breezes
become heated
waves of air,
that blows the dust
of rusted dreams
waking me from my slumber.
Irene Daniel Copyright 2014 All rights reserved
I close my eyes
and I am in the desert,
la tierra of my youth.
I smell the earth
and feel the breeze,
and I am hot, hot, hot.
I see the succulents shrivel
as lizards and gophers
scamper about.
Morning shade gives way
to brilliant sunshine
and the heat
of nature's oven.
No escape, except inside
with air conditioning.
Neither shade nor swamper
can tame the demon heat.
And then I see
the earth turn orange
with the color of the sunset,
sky and earth are one
and show off many colors.
Blue, purple, peach,
red, orange, fuchsia;
blend into a miracle
of a dusty dusk
that transforms to
a moonless night
when stars overcome
the dark spaces,
and sometimes fall
from the sky.
And then the desert
comes alive
with predators nocturnal;
the mountain lion,
the spider,
the bat,
hungry and awake
as prey animals hide.
And then the morning
comes again
another glorious miracle
of light and clouds and earth.
Sweet cool breezes
become heated
waves of air,
that blows the dust
of rusted dreams
waking me from my slumber.
Irene Daniel Copyright 2014 All rights reserved
Thursday, July 3, 2014
The id Post: Independence from Two-ness: My New Life Begins
The id Post: Independence from Two-ness: My New Life Begins: by Irene Daniel I love the Fourth of July. My mother was born on the Fourth of July; and even though it wasn't planned that way, it is...
Independence from Two-ness: My New Life Begins
by Irene Daniel
I love the Fourth of July. My mother was born on the Fourth of July; and even though it wasn't planned that way, it is also my sobriety birthday. 17 years now. And this Independence Day, I will celebrate a new freedom: freedom from two-ness.
E.W. Dubois talked about this in an Atlantic Monthly article titled “Strivings of the Negro People” in 1897, coining the term "double-consciousness;" wherein one must observe themselves through the eyes of those in unearned authority over them in order to survive, much less thrive. Johnny Cochran also discussed this social condition in his book, "Journey to Justice." Many others have spoken and written on this mental station over the generations, as nonwhites must succumb to indignities, and sometimes betray their natures, in order to succeed in a white man's world.
I too have succumbed to domination in my life, in order to get what I wanted; to feel safe, to get that job, to be included and recognized in the great American Dream. I have been in polite white company in order to advance my dreams, and listened to their racial slurs and sexist jokes; mostly ignoring them, for to pay heed to all of them would leave women and nonwhites with no time to accomplish anything else in our lives. But no more.
I am cleaning out all of the excuses that keep me in my comfort zone these days. I have been in a deep state of grief and depression for much of the past two years, following the death of my mother, as well as my beloved Uncle John. I was in a very dark place for a very long time. And now I'm not.
I miss my mother so much lately. And I hear her whispering to me, "no te dejes, mi'ja; no te dejes." "Don't let them have you. They don't deserve you." And I know that she is right. They don't deserve me. So who is this "they," anyway?
THEY are the men who afford themselves instant credibility, while denying even common courtesy to women.
THEY are the so-called "Christians" who claim to love America, yet seem to hate Americans, unless of course, they are white, "Christian," racist, sexist, xenophobic and close-minded, like themselves.
THEY are the disciples of Ayn Rand, who must enforce a protective scheme, built by their unearned privilege, in order to look down upon "the other;" and then claim to be disciples of Jesus.
THEY are the hypocrites who hide behind the Son of Man to justify their lack of compassion and disdain of sick and poor people.
THEY are the unjustly enriched, who wrap an American flag around their greed, proclaiming the need for more unjust enrichment for themselves, and austerity for "the least of these."
THEY are the know-nothings, who fly their confederate flag and vote for more poverty and ignorance for their children.
THEY are the 21st century Pharisees, who would crucify Jesus all over again; and, somehow, blame it on Barack Obama.
THEY are the ones, wherever they are, who value money over love, rules over compassion, and conformity over creativity.
THEY are the ones who would rather see me enslaved than happy.
I am free of two-ness now because I have no need to ask THEM for anything anymore. I am free! Free at last! Free at last! Thank God Almighty, I am free at last!
Free from having to ever sacrifice even so much as a micro-smidgen of my dignity and self respect to conform to a status quo that mocks and feeds me at the same time. No more two-ness for me -- of any kind.
I realize that in claiming this independence from the judgment and scorn of THEM, I have to be willing to give up something; let go of that which is holding me back by keeping me physically comfy. This is not an easy thing to do.
But I am worth much more than all of the physical comforts I now enjoy, combined -- and multiplied by infinity. Acknowledging this true fact is the foundation of my celebration this year.
So, this Fourth of July is truly a new Independence Day for me!
How about you? Are you free? I hope so.
Happy Independence Day!
Irene Daniel Copyright 2014 All rights reserved
I love the Fourth of July. My mother was born on the Fourth of July; and even though it wasn't planned that way, it is also my sobriety birthday. 17 years now. And this Independence Day, I will celebrate a new freedom: freedom from two-ness.
E.W. Dubois talked about this in an Atlantic Monthly article titled “Strivings of the Negro People” in 1897, coining the term "double-consciousness;" wherein one must observe themselves through the eyes of those in unearned authority over them in order to survive, much less thrive. Johnny Cochran also discussed this social condition in his book, "Journey to Justice." Many others have spoken and written on this mental station over the generations, as nonwhites must succumb to indignities, and sometimes betray their natures, in order to succeed in a white man's world.
I too have succumbed to domination in my life, in order to get what I wanted; to feel safe, to get that job, to be included and recognized in the great American Dream. I have been in polite white company in order to advance my dreams, and listened to their racial slurs and sexist jokes; mostly ignoring them, for to pay heed to all of them would leave women and nonwhites with no time to accomplish anything else in our lives. But no more.
I am cleaning out all of the excuses that keep me in my comfort zone these days. I have been in a deep state of grief and depression for much of the past two years, following the death of my mother, as well as my beloved Uncle John. I was in a very dark place for a very long time. And now I'm not.
I miss my mother so much lately. And I hear her whispering to me, "no te dejes, mi'ja; no te dejes." "Don't let them have you. They don't deserve you." And I know that she is right. They don't deserve me. So who is this "they," anyway?
THEY are the men who afford themselves instant credibility, while denying even common courtesy to women.
THEY are the so-called "Christians" who claim to love America, yet seem to hate Americans, unless of course, they are white, "Christian," racist, sexist, xenophobic and close-minded, like themselves.
THEY are the disciples of Ayn Rand, who must enforce a protective scheme, built by their unearned privilege, in order to look down upon "the other;" and then claim to be disciples of Jesus.
THEY are the hypocrites who hide behind the Son of Man to justify their lack of compassion and disdain of sick and poor people.
THEY are the unjustly enriched, who wrap an American flag around their greed, proclaiming the need for more unjust enrichment for themselves, and austerity for "the least of these."
THEY are the know-nothings, who fly their confederate flag and vote for more poverty and ignorance for their children.
THEY are the 21st century Pharisees, who would crucify Jesus all over again; and, somehow, blame it on Barack Obama.
THEY are the ones, wherever they are, who value money over love, rules over compassion, and conformity over creativity.
THEY are the ones who would rather see me enslaved than happy.
I am free of two-ness now because I have no need to ask THEM for anything anymore. I am free! Free at last! Free at last! Thank God Almighty, I am free at last!
Free from having to ever sacrifice even so much as a micro-smidgen of my dignity and self respect to conform to a status quo that mocks and feeds me at the same time. No more two-ness for me -- of any kind.
I realize that in claiming this independence from the judgment and scorn of THEM, I have to be willing to give up something; let go of that which is holding me back by keeping me physically comfy. This is not an easy thing to do.
But I am worth much more than all of the physical comforts I now enjoy, combined -- and multiplied by infinity. Acknowledging this true fact is the foundation of my celebration this year.
So, this Fourth of July is truly a new Independence Day for me!
How about you? Are you free? I hope so.
Happy Independence Day!
Irene Daniel Copyright 2014 All rights reserved
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