Wednesday, January 28, 2015

Mother Eartha Talks - On Being Okay



What I learned in January is that I have come full circle. When I was eight I preferred to play by myself because inside my own imagination I had no boundaries, no concessions to be made to anyone else, to compromise with or be compared to. After sixty years of seeing, doing, experiencing all the stages in the middle, trying and mostly failing to fit inside what others deem to be acceptable, I am now free to be me again, no one to compete with or compare myself to. 

I’m eight again, older but wiser this time, and it’s so okay. So, I’m okay.

For Him,
Meema


Mother Eartha Talks - On Being Okay:



It is in the middle that human choices are made; the beginning and the end remain with God. The decrees of God are birth and death, and in between those limits man makes his own distress or joy. ~Oswald Chambers 

Have a suggestion for Mother to talk about? Contact her at: mother.eartha@yahoo.com

The reason for Mother’s Comeback HERE

If you cannot see the video on this page all Mother’s vids are posted on the Seat Oh My Pants Productions  - meema fields Youtube channel HERE



Friday, January 23, 2015

Mother Eartha Talks - On Love is a Verb

So. I think I like it, this new way to blog.  

I am happy to report that Mother Eartha is rather enjoying her new found reason for coming out of retirement, not to mention being out of storage.

Though a little ahead of the month of love Mother Eartha is getting her groove on.

Mother Eartha Talks - On Love is a Verb

For Him,
Meema


Love flows through a marriage that lives up to mutual respect. 

(1 Corinthians 13:5) Love is not self seeking, it’s not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrong. 

Have a suggestion for Mother to talk about? Contact her at: mother.eartha@yahoo.com

The reason for Mother’s Comeback HERE

If you cannot see the video on this page all Mother’s vids are posted on the Seat Oh My Pants Productions  - meema fields Youtube channel HERE

Wednesday, January 21, 2015

Mother Eartha Talks - On Purpose

Imagine my surprise to discover, back in December, that blogging is a waning art. At the very least it is morphing. I jumped into the fray half a decade late, previously doing my own thing, posting my written musings in my website having purposefully resisted the blogging concept ...because... okay, I’m not sure why except that my stubborn defiance goes back to my preferring to stay out of step with the world. Plus I avoid all social media as though it harbors the plague and I assumed one would have to be plugged in if one had a blog.

Anyway, I have my own theories about this, one of which is that the natural course of things in an ADHD world always must give sway to the cravings, therefore demands, for whatever is next and new new new. How long the cycles take is still the great unknown but visual media is most certainly affecting and shortening the timeline patterns. Writers are faced with having to say what they want to say in 140 characters or less (metaphorically speaking), if they want to keep their readers. Then if you factor in saturation point, which simply means there are too many blogs to read nowadays–so many blogs/so little time–that sort of thing–it was completely predictable. 

But here I am not entirely ready to stop blogging, having only just gotten comfortable with it, though because apparently it is so yesterday I admit I’m looking at the next phase. There are some things I have wanted to do, perhaps now is the time to try them. 

So...

Years ago, in my puppetry stage, I used to write stories and have my old lady puppet tell them to small groups. It was nothing more than a hobby and creative outlet for my unstoppable drive to write and tell stories. Thus Mother Eartha became my alter ego. She was the one who was not an introvert. The one who could say out loud what she was thinking and who I then could blame for any backlash.  

In the interest of morphing with the times, or, as usual, just doing my own thing, allow me to introduce you to:

                     Mother Eartha Talks - On Purpose 




For Him,
Meema


There is only one relationship that really matters, and that is your personal relationship to your personal Redeemer and Lord. If you maintain that at all costs, letting everything else go, God will fulfill His purpose through your life. One individual life may be of priceless value to God’s purposes, and yours may be that life. ~ Oswald Chambers
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Have a suggestion for Mother to talk about? Contact her at: mother.eartha@yahoo.com

If you cannot see the video on this page all Mother’s vids are posted on the Seat Oh My Pants Productions  - meema fields Youtube channel HERE

Tuesday, January 13, 2015

Passive/Aggressive

My youngest daughter had a childhood friend who had an annoying way about her. Holly and her best friend Susan used to complain regularly that Cristin made them crazy but they couldn’t exactly explain why. 

One day I overheard them ranting about something Cristin had said or done and I asked them to tell me what. Holly fumed that Cristin said things that sounded like she was giving compliments but ended up being the opposite. She gave an example that Cristin said, “Oh, that’s a pretty shirt but it’s kind of a funny color isn’t it?” Or she’d say, “I really like your room but the carpet is kinda old, isn’t it?” 

At the time, I didn’t have a psychological diagnosis for Cristin’s conduct but I knew instinctively that confronting her would not net good results so I sat the girls down, “Here’s what you do,” I told them, “The next time Cristin gives you a backhanded compliment just act as though you’ve really been complimented. For example, say, ‘Oh, thank you, Cristin, what a nice thing to say.’ ”  

Empowered, the girls took my advise and started countering Cristin’s two-edged accolades with the sweetest, if not somewhat affected, responses. A few weeks later, one day, Holly came rushing in with the latest ‘Cristin Report’. 

“Mom! You won’t believe this!” Holly-All-Eyes tattled. “Cristin said she liked my hair but that my bangs were too short and so I said,  thank you, Cristin, what a nice thing to say, and wanna know what she did?” 

I nodded, wide-eyed myself, holding my breath. 

“She started yelling at me!” 

“Yelling what at you?” I asked.

“She yelled, ‘Why do you keep saying that?’ ”

I smiled. “Gotcha,” I thought. And then I said, “So now we know for sure she knew all along that she was being unkind but doing it in a way that sounded nice and now you also know the best way to make her stop is to not let her get your goat. What she wants is to make you lose your cool and then she can act as though she doesn’t have a clue why you are so mad and behaving so badly.”

I’m sure my approach to dealing with Cristin would not win the touchy-feely parenting award but it worked and taught Holly and Susan a valuable lesson. Cristin kept her mean-spirited compliments to herself, or at least she stopped dishing them out on Holly and Susan. Of course, I’ll never know if the exercise taught Cristin anything other than to choose her marks more carefully. 


Sometimes I do wonder if that little girl grew up out of her habit of smiling sweetly even as she was cutting another down to size or if she just took that passive/aggressive nature into her adult life with her. I truly hope for her sake she figured it out. Unfortunately, this state of being seems to be epidemic nowadays. People say good things even as they are doing bad things, manipulating, using and pushing others’ buttons to get them to react negatively so they then can float gently above the strife as though they are either the victim of the negative behavior and/or certainly in no way a party to it. Blame-shift is another tool of, but not limited to, the passive/aggressive personality. Others and their bad reactions are always at fault for contention, but not them. Never, ever, them.

We are admonished to be meek as lambs and wise as serpents. The key to following this is discernment which is a vital asset to have while living in a fallen world. Combined with faith, prayer, and lots of grace, we muddle through as best we can. Now that there is an official diagnosis for people who suck others in only to stir them up to get them to behave badly, the solution is still the same–simply do not participate. When someone is aggressively kicking up dirt to cause a storm, all the while passively denying their feet are even moving, the best way to diffuse it is to either not respond or respond with kindness. Even if the kindness is somewhat disingenuous, it’s still better to end a conflict before it can begin than to fall prey to the tactics of a passive aggressive war monger. 

Meema’s Practical Life Lessons 101: Give the devil no wiggle room.

For Him,
Meema


(Isaiah 5:18) Woe unto them that draw iniquity with cords of falsehood, and sin as it were with a cart rope;  (5:19) that say, Let him make speed, let him hasten his work, that we may see it; and let the counsel of the Holy One of Israel draw nigh and come, that we may know it!  (5:20) Woe unto them that call evil good, and good evil; that put darkness for light, and light for darkness; that put bitter for sweet, and sweet for bitter!  (5:21) Woe unto them that are wise in their own eyes, and prudent in their own sight!  

Sunday, January 11, 2015

Contrast

My friend Ginger sent me an article about the positive side to convalescing. She knows I’ve been nursing a bum knee that has curtailed my active life somewhat. Okay, a lot. It turns out I have always been a supporter of the concept that sometimes we need to shut down in order to renew and refill our wells so I’m not complaining too much. 



But you know what happens when my thoughts are allowed to slip off on rabbit trails. 

I was reminded of the job that brought me to Atlanta in 1987. I was a budding photo stylist and was hired by a catalog production company. I didn’t realize it then but I was blessed to be able to work with some of the best commercial photographers in the country in a modern 50,000 sq. ft. building that housed talented graphic artists, copy editors, art directors, and, in general, a host of right-brained creative type people. 

The first few months immersed me in the quick start middle of a challenging, energetic, creative experience unlike I had ever had as a stylist in Tulsa where I worked with one photographer, part time. In the new job the stylists were assigned to no less than two photographers who each had two sets working on a job. There was a full kitchen for making up styled food for shots and a construction department always filled with the banging, buzzing sounds of set building. The stylists were given a generous prop budget and we had a dozen specific places where we could go rent antique furniture and accessories to style work-of-art room sets. We also had a  wholesale florist where we could go get armloads of fresh flowers to make arrangements. 

Oh! it was amazing! Like giving a kid free rein in a toy store.

During the busy seasons, usually several months before a holiday, the studio would be a frenzied, non-stop flurry of inspired action accompanied by raucous music blaring from the intercom. Then, at the end of each busy period, we had what was known as ‘downtime’. The studio would go dark and quiet. The photographers would clean their sets, catch up on needed repairs and replacements. The stylists would go through stacks of magazines and tear out beautiful pics they wanted to put in their ‘go-by’ reference binders and they cleaned up the prop room, sorting and reorganizing. The set building department scooped out the scraps and sawdust, sorted tools and paint cans. Everywhere, in general, the mood was quiet, regroup, replenish, do the menial, non-creative things to rejuvenate and  give the creative juices a time to rest.

Without exception by the end of a couple of weeks of this boring, left-brained tasking, the creative juices were always refilled and ready to get back to the full blown enthusiasm of crafting fabulous photos. 

A few months in, just as I was really getting used to the routine, a ‘numbers oriented’ communication company based in Tennessee bought the company. In a matter of weeks many things changed. For one thing, the creative staff was required to fill in CAC cards (creative allocation cards) listing every move we made in six minute increments in military time. Not kidding. Imagine telling Rembrandt or Renoir to chart their daily paint strokes in six minute increments. 

Then, once the number crunchers had finished assessing and reordering the work flow system by observing what the daily routines were of the creative staff, they determined that ‘downtime’ was counter-productive. Meaning, it wasn’t allowed. When the big seasonal push was done, they filled in the following time with smaller jobs. 

So, the number brains took over and decided how the art brains ought to work, to squeeze out even more art. It’s a story that repeats itself in every way possible in politics, commerce, religion. Humans are so predictably–humanistic. There are, and will always be, those in all areas of life who do not see the benefit of downtime, convalescing, rebuilding and refilling the well. Unfortunately, these often end up in positions of power. Like slave owners. 

What happened over the next year and a half was not just the reason for the end of my working there, but the complete destruction of what had been an incredibly dynamic, creative, joyfully productive environment. I also noticed, before I, along with many others, quit, a rise in anxiety and paranoia. There was a huge increase in the tension in the air, giving way to contention between the photographers, art directors and stylists. 

What I concluded was that humans do need downtime or convalescing time to recenter, refresh and, as it became clear for me, to experience contrast. For whatever reason God made us this way–humans see something best when compared to something else. When we, the artists, were allowed to suspend being artistic and do the mundane, practical opposite, we inevitably were soon chomping at the bit to get creating again which was, after all, our reason for being there.

It was not only the ‘not doing’ or resting from our creative activities that made us ready to roll again; it was the comparison of not doing over doing. Just as we see the light better when dark is next to it, we need to know loss to realize gain, pain to recognize pleasure, scarcity to understand plenty, less to be grateful for much. We appreciate spring all the more for having endured the winter, and fall brings welcome refreshment  from the heat of summer. 

When we finally recognize that our contrasts, our times of unrest give us all the more to be grateful for in our seasons of rest, only then can we begin to mature in grace.

For Him,
Meema


(Ecclesiastes 3:1) For everything there is a season, and a time for very purpose under heaven:  (3:2) a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;  (3:3) a time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;  (3:4) a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;  (3:5) a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;  (3:6) a time to seek, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;  (3:7) a time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;  (3:8) a time to love, and a time to hate; a time for war, and a time for peace.  

Sunday, January 4, 2015

Infinite Variables

“Our God is more expansive and powerful than we could ever imagine, the almighty Creator of galaxies beyond our reach. But He is also the loving Creator  who has formed and fashioned you. Yet, as valuable as you are to Him, God’s best for your life is to invite you into a story that is all about Him.” ~ Louie Giglio - I Am Not But I know I Am - Welcome To The Story of God.



Cookies, the computer kind, not the sweet edible kind, when enabled, leave little footprints where you visit on the world wide web. Small files of information are exchanged between your computer and a website you click on and enter. In the new age of digital marketing the information gathered about you is then used in profiling you to entice you to buy merchandise. 

Sounds innocuous enough, even if somewhat annoying, unless you look deeper.

Back in October, preparing for a grandson’s birthday, I ordered some party favors and supplies from an online party supply store. For the past two months, every time I open a news site or any site that allows advertising, the first thing I see is flashing reminders that I have not bought any crepe paper or party treats in at least two months. The obnoxious animated ads offer sales and reduction in prices to me, if only I will -->CLICK HERE<-- and come back to buy something. What is the matter with me that I don’t come back and buy buy buy? How long will they have to pay to advertise to me before I stop resisting and give in? 

Well, for one thing, I may or may not ever need to make a purchase from the online party store again. Ever. And if I did wish to I probably would be able to find the website again, without daily reminders that they exist and are ready and willing to sell me party stuff. 

But this got me thinking. Yep. Even though the cookie tracking thing is pretty much mindless and automated, generated by computers, not humans, I am fully aware that bits and bytes of information are gathered on us, by humans via their software, used to profile us, sort us, define what our likes and dislikes are. The benign object, of course, being to tailor advertising to our highest potential for spending. At least that’s the cover story. I have another take on this. 

I am a curious sort. I get a whiff of something and I want to know more about it. On any given day my searching online may leave cookie crumbs all over the place. I might look up a historical figure on Wikipedia. I might research nano technology or the science of earthquakes or health issues or psychology or electronics or... . I might leave crummy footprints in a recipe site and then watch a Youtube video on how to make lipstick with coconut oil and crayons. 

What does all this say about me? Who am I, other than a curious person? Can a mindless computer program really take all the website surfing and define my mind? Those who believe in statistics and behavioral science will say it can be done. Entire industries have been created to do exactly that. 

Statistically speaking, I beg to differ. Lying with statistics has been around since the concept of statistics was invented. If information gathered can not really be used to get to the truth then what good is it? To manipulate perhaps? 

I absolutely believe and understand that humans can be sorted into types but within those identifiable personality types the variables are as vast and unimaginable as the universe. As predictable as humans are, on the small scale, the great unknown is determined by how humans are not really in charge of anything. But God is. God created science and the laws we have noted thus far. He also created those things we don’t as yet understand, and perhaps never will. As we run to and fro furiously gathering information, learning more and more, we usually discover that we know even less than we thought we did. We come up with concepts to cover what we don’t understand about the things that exist outside of the laws we thought were absolutes. We call it String Theory or Quantum Physics. We say we are ‘baffled’ when things occur that we can’t fit into a category of our own understanding. We ‘discover’ new species and animals no human eye has ever seen before and instead of marveling about how dumb we really are we pat ourselves on the back and marvel at our great intelligence. 

Our. Great. Intelligence. Right. 

Well, seems to me, there will never be a program man can devise that can build a tower that reaches to God, or can figure out the how, why or wherefores of the mysteries of God. That arrogant, self-righteous puny humans think they can, only demonstrates a massive ignorance that cannot be quantified. Louie Giglio likens this to an ant unable to understand the inner workings of the computer it's crawling on.

But apparently, since day one, humans are destined to first choose to believe in their own intelligence, regardless how it seems to let us down again and again. Humans believe they can finally know the infinite variables of the universe and the human mind, even when given evidence that refutes this. 

Perhaps it comes down to something as simple as the antichrist spirit working overtime hoping to bring God down to size. If the mysteries of creation can be compartmentalized, dissected, defined by boundaries, laws and absolutes, even if the absolutes don’t stay absolute, then God can be effectively retired. Humankind won’t need Him anymore. Then humankind can be compartmentalized, defined and manipulated. Like mindless robots. 

Call me crazy but I think that is about as dumb a thing as any human ever thought. 

For Him,

Meema


Thursday, January 1, 2015

Pruning Day 2015

The first day of a new year presents an opportunity for retrospection, reevaluation and tough introspection. I do some mental pruning. 



Always a lover of firsts, beginnings and fresh starts, I am energized by the possibilities presented by assessing the negatives of the past and turning them into positives for the future. I guess that identifies me as a hopeful optimist. Even though sometimes I can present as a hopeless pessimist, I prefer to think of myself as a realist. I see the good and the bad and find each equally able to be successfully used with a goal toward progress. My version of plain old moving on. 

Therefore what is real is where I begin. And begin again. And again.

I start from laying out all the truths, even if I don’t much like them, about situations, others and myself, and then I am brutally honest in my conclusions about what needs to be changed, worked on, ignored, abandoned or admitted to, in an attempt to remove the dead wood. 

This morning, this first day of a new year, I’m looking farther back than twelve months. I am assessing my waning abilities and searching for positive conclusions. In recent years there are so many things I have already had to let go of and of those that remain, that I don’t want to let go of, I know there is less and less fruit to be gained by holding on. Regardless that I’m not ready, all the years all the skills so diligently worked for seem to loom large as one of those truths I don’t want to like. 

At the end of 1999, wanting to learn how to design websites, but being extremely right-brained, I knew I was never going to learn the mysteries of html by reading a ‘how-to for dummies’ book. Ron found an individual who, for a mere $100 a session, taught me the basics. Nine sessions later, I had learned enough to launch me into web design and over the years I continued teaching myself and refining my skills in daily practice. Five years later, I took a similar path learning how to create printed books and sailed off starry-eyed and half-cocked into the murky waters of professional publishing. 

It’s been a busy, rewarding, frustrating, infuriating, sometimes challenging, fifteen years. But I can say I learned a lot. A. Lot. And not a few things I wish I could unlearn. For one thing, I learned that any skill I have is greatly praised and appreciated so long as it is freely given. A dollar value seems to sully the perceived value of what I am able to do. I can’t complain about that even though I must admit it annoys me. A little. But because I also see the humor in this I doom myself to never being taken seriously. Ultimately, I have seen God’s hand in this–always–so I accept it, and move on. 

So, having moved on, I get that I was never meant to hit the big time; I’m too introverted to want to anyway. What I really wanted was to be free to learn, to do, to be. That I got because I didn't have to earn a living doing it. Further, I wanted to know what was true at all times about what I was learning. Turns out what is true is almost always not as pretty or delightful as what is illusory. That’s why illusion is usually the first pick over plain old truth. Good sounding untruth is way better, in the world view.

I used to naively think that truth was truth whether a nobody says it or a somebody. Apparently for a truth to be received it must be packaged well. If it isn’t then the message is lost because the focus is shifted to challenging the messenger’s credentials. 

Sometimes, when I have been the messenger, because my skills were good enough but my credentials always sub par, has done more harm than good. I think. Perhaps that’s probably why I should not be the messenger? I’m still sorting this.



One conclusion I have drawn is that just because you know something doesn’t mean you have to share it. Every experience I have had, the good, the bad, the ugly, has been an opportunity to learn something, to add depth and dimension to my soul the purpose of which, I hope, is to make me a better vessel for Christ. Thus I endeavor to receive everything, even rebuke and dismissal, as a blessing which grows me but how does that help anyone else? Again, I’m still trying to figure this out.

When I have dared to offer up what I know, if lucky I am met with nothing more than the sound of crickets. I get it though. Sometimes it’s because what I can do or have to share does not align with the trending stream of consciousness du jour. Whether in regard to something as worldly as website design, publishing or as deep as spiritual knowledge. Sometimes God is testing and putting others through a refining stage that I’ve already been through and they can’t see the end yet so resistance is the natural response. 

Sometimes people simply don’t get it because, and this pains me to confess, I might not have expressed it well. My bad–I must own that. 

Also, I have to own that I tend to fast track, to skip the taking time to ‘earn’ trust and respect stage. In regard to professional matters, I am the opposite of diplomatic; because of my isolation from church structure, in regards to spiritual matters, I am sorely lacking in religious social grace. This means, in both cases, I often skip paying the virtual dues required to be accepted into the club. I don’t know how to suck up, bribe, stroke ego or pander. Being INTJ personality type I just can’t fake it thus, not surprisingly, not once have I ever been welcomed into the ‘core’ group because I am a rebel and cannot follow structure rules. It’s never going to happen because this is the way the real world works. 

Truth is best accepted from someone who is acceptable. What I am concluding from this exercise is that I am not, nor ever have been ‘acceptable’. At this stage, in this world, I also conclude that this is not only not a bad thing but a real and true positive. A condition that is tailor made for me by the One who knows me best.

Happy New Year - may your introspections and conclusions be all positive!

For Him,
Meema

Every branch that beareth fruit, he purgeth it, that it may bring forth more fruit.
John 15:2
“Whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth.” The beloved child is chastised and the fruitful branch is pruned. Many a troubled soul in an hour of distress has fancied itself the object of God’s displeasure. But it is the fruitful branch that feels the knife. The unfruitful branch is taken away and burned. Many a saint in adversity has feared that he is perhaps a stranger to grace, forgetting that it is the bastards, not sons, who escape the Father’s discipline.

There is a purpose in the pruning, “that it may bring forth more fruit.” Not the feverish stepped-up production of this machine age but the natural, spontaneous fruitfulness of the branch that draws its life from the vine. Too much of our religious productivity is ground out by the methods of this age. The true Christian abides and abounds, and to him the Father-Husbandman’s pruning is part of he process.  ~ Oswald Chambers