Balloon Therapy

D. Valdez--"It is ALWAYS GRANTED when asked for....

Couple days ago asked for Forgiveness. On Facebook. Couple of nights ago, got in a car accident.

Driving on Palmdale Boulevard at a quarter past eight at night. Just past the rotary and out of nowhere. . .it looked like a white boxer. Brown, too. It was to my right. It was dark. Driving 50. It happened in a split second.

Moving On Means Going Back, Too
All of sudden, Blam!!! Continued driving. Had this sinking feeling. Unfortunately, I’ve hit dogs before late at night, but this was different. Drove on. Got home, but couldn't stop. Decided to go back. Flipped a U-ie. Called the 911 to inform police to where the incident happened. Felt horrible. Why? Because I just kept going.

It was only 3 minutes there and back--I remember--since the accident happened. But needed to know that dog was not suffering. Emergency lights on, drove up and down the street twice looking for the dog. No blood. No dog. No nothing. When the officer arrived, we searched but could not find a thing. Nothing. 

Stopped under a light and got to see the dent to the right front bumper. It was good foot in length. Time for a new bumper. What troubled me the most is not the accident. Nor the deductible. It was not finding the dog. Just bothered me so. Couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t eat. Couldn’t get mind off it. Remembering the crunch. Feeling of the steering wheel trying to correct the car after the swerve. Just wanted to ease my mind knowing that dog didn’t suffer much.

Salvation Is Not Always In Church
Logically knew there was not much more that could be done. Mind was straight, just my heart felt heavy. It was an accident, no one’s fault, but it weighed on me. Woke up the next morning, foregoing my walk and run. Just left the house. Found myself at St. Mary’s and just prayed. It was 6:40 am. Ten minutes in the morning mass.  I prayed, took communion, and then left still feeling uneasy.

Message From the Heaven
On the way to LCH, noticed from a distance a dot in the sky. Couldn't quite tell. what it was. Driving closer and closer to Lancaster, past Avenue N, past Avenue K, the dot got bigger and bigger. Got to the hospital. Sitting in the parking lot, pulled the Pentax out and started looking for that dot in the sky. Couldn't quite tell still. Its a Monday. No hot air balloons on a weekday. People are working. 

Using the zoom, I realized the dot in the sky was a hot air balloon. An uncommon sight. Usually it’s a Saturday or Sunday when balloons dot the sky. Today, there it was. Most people would be out working, but this day was different. Started noticing my heart feeling lighter. Guess, my prayers were heard. Right then, realized and accepted damage was done and needed to move on.

Junipero Serra's Missions: Looking Up, Moving On
Something about looking up in the sky, and watching hot air balloons. My mind understood, but my heart still felt heavy for the loss. My heart needed to let go. It needed to lighten. It hurt and it bothered me. But seeing the dot in the sky helped me moved on. Can’t erase this memory, but one can reconcile on the mistakes made. 

Took pictures of a hot air balloon that was down a day earlier. Saw its descent and its landing on a field. Saw the retrieval truck pick up the passengers on their landing. Saw how the retrieval team follow the balloon on the roads. It was dangerous because the balloon was on Avenue M, near the airport. Right in front where planes land. Saw how quickly they were able to pick up these people up in the heavens and take them home.Maybe this is how Angels work.

Hindu Temple, Karma
I hope that the Dog found peace. I hope that Dog had lived a good life. I hope that Angels were able to pick up this Dog and take it to Heaven, to take the dog Home. I hope the Dog will forgive me.

After some time, it made me realize that we make mistakes. Sometimes people cause accidents. Sometimes people are the victims of accidents. Asking for and giving Forgiveness is hard at times. Whether you go to Church or Temple, there is something transformative in the act of Forgiving. Learned that lesson well. 

Angels Everywhere
Been burdened with heavy heart for a time. Now, done my crying. Done my hurting. Working on being Done with the heavy heart. "No more" is the plan. Got to pick up and let my soul take flight. Brian, Em, Robin, and so on—I Love You dearly. Got to go. Got to go with God. You are always with me. I believe the Big Smile will bring us back together.

Someday. 

Maybe next time we can do it better.

Epigram

Criticism: Some people love you, some people don’t. 

Fire Me Up, Don't Burn Me Down

It’s easy to tear something down. To take down brick by brick the works of others. Sometimes this is needed. That is all some can do. Tear things down. No skills to build, just to demolish. Perhaps, criticism is well-founded. Perhaps, the ones that criticize have been there and done that. 

Talk So Much, But Not Saying A Thing
More often than not, the ones that are harshest and have the most sting are the ones that have been hurt the most. A defense tactic learned early to protect this hurt child. Criticizers and talking heads attack because an over-abundance of anger and hate.  Negative critics remind me of CNN or Fox "so-called-experts." Wrong with this. Wrong with that. Blah, blah, blah. Nothing of substance these bobble head speak. Their tirades are. . .uninspired.

Void Needs Filling. Don't Be A Soul Assassin

They grab and attack others energies to boost their own waning supplies. Can’t create this positive energy themselves, so they prey on others. Looking for a weakness. Looking for an opening. Looking for something that is missing. They find it. They always find something missing. Trouble is they can't fill themselves. There is a hole in their heart. There is a hole in their soul. They are spilling bile because inside gangrene festers.Before criticizing ask this, What will you leave in the world?

To the critics, I am reminded by Orlando Bloom, Kingdom of Heaven, quote “What is a Man Who Does Not Make the World Better Place.”

Value In Everything

When the words of angry detractors pollute my prana. I try to find the message. At times, there is difficulty. Difficulty in decoding the message. There is anger and hurt. Difficulty in the message because the messenger may not have command of the words to communicate their meaning. Difficulty in the message because we have personal blocks that don’t allow us to hear the true meaning. There is a message. May take some time, to uncover the noise. But the feedback is valued. Learned a new word, Epigram. Thank you. Your other stuff, still working on it. Will give the attention its due

Let Them Cry

If a person is taking the time to retort, give feedback, criticize, than that is okay. He cared enough to write. He cared enough to read more. He cared enough to share. Sometimes the display of affection is misguided and looks like graffiti.

Guess, I would be more upset if one didn't care. From the feedback read, one must care a lot. Touching an exposed nerve can be uncomfortable. Guess, one has to take a punch at times. At this time I say, "Ouch." Just don't see the world in those angry eyes. Just garbage.

Negative criticism--I liken it to a baby crying. He cries because he needs attention. He cries because he hungers for something missing. He cries because he is having a tizzy fit. To this, let them cry. In time, his sobs will abate. He will discover other ways to communicate. Negative criticizers will grow up. It's still taking me time for me to grow up, too.

Analogy Rant: ON

So when the noise gets too loud, turn down the volume. If the ugly words graffiti-ize your space, then paint over it. Raise the rent because the space in your head is too valuable. Talking heads are bargaining for a discount because they can’t pay. The bee stings cause anaphylactic shock, then take the epi and move on. One will be short of breath. One's throat will be constricted. However, take meds. One's respiratory rate will return. One's heart will go back to normal. Understand it and move. If one doesn’t understand, get some space. Get some distance. Move on. Look at the bigger picture. This bombardment of pathogens is constant. An immunity will be built. Angry words will bounce off thickened skin. The WBCs will phagocitize this alien body. The kidneys and bowels will just excrete this out. 

Let Go. Go with God

Much props to the ones that have gone before us. We should memorialize those that have made us stronger and better. To the talking heads and angry criticizers, I forgive because at times it make us stronger and better. I understand that is all one can do is tear down. Sorry. Everyone needs to be loved. Just some are harder to love than others.

G-Time At His House

Late night at Barnes and Nobles. Need to do 1.3 Miles more tonight. That will be 30 miles for 4 days. I was hoping to do 16 miles today. Eleven will be okay for the night. My goal is 150 miles for March. However, I would like to finish with 300 miles of cardio for the month. I just want to see if I can reach this goal. I find myself anxious at times to get this task accomplished. Putting out in the universe makes it more real. I’m putting myself on the line. I’m finding Doubt gremlins come out and yet I want to shut them up. Also, trying to maintain with my new reading group and getting the task at hand done. Had to run out early so I can get a task accomplished. Also, trying to keep a blog a day is one of my wants to complete. 

My highlight for the day, besides driving Prece home from gymnastic, was my first daily mass. Showed up 10 minutes late. Most seats were filled.  Most of the attending were in the 50s and 60’s I think. All had their head down. The Father dressed in purple and gold robes stood at the front, preaching and smiling. He was happy explaining a section from the Book of Hebrew. He explained most poetry of these days are the rhyming of the last two sentences of the stanza. In the time of the books writing, there was a rhyming of meaning, a rhyming of analogy. He was giddy about it. Not a great orator, yet he enjoyed it and I couldn’t help but smile at the white haired Father’s enthusiasm.

During the tithing time, I think that is what one calls it. It’s the time when the baskets for donations are passed around. The Father waved toward me. I interpreted to mean be bring the basket to present him the giving for the mass. Sitting in the back and being late, I guess had its privileges. Always wanted to do it and here I am in my first morning mass. Trouble is. . .I stood clueless. Holding the basket in hand trying to figure out the next step, I walked towards to the Father to give him the basket, but there was nothing to give him.

You see baskets are passed to both sides up and down the rows of seats . I was to put all the receivings from both baskets and present it to the Father. Trouble is I knew it in concept, but the actual doing. Not so much. I just stood there going, ummm, okay? What am I to do? There were some 50+ people looking at me. Lucky for me, I never really embarrassed easily. This saying helps me, “It is not that I don’t know; It’s just I haven’t learned yet.”  A nice, older lady kindly stepped up and guided me with what to do.  

Somehow I found myself sitting in the front row. Right next to the Father.  No one else sat in my row. Don’t know if its protocol for the front row to be empty. If so, well, next time.  I found myself sitting in the front row receiving the message. I liked the story and analysis of the Father’s explanation of true power. It was something in the Book of Hebrew. I am true babe with all this church stuff. Yet it feels very familiar and clear.

At any rate, close to the end of mass during the head down phase, I found myself tearing up. Don’t know why, I just did. Standing there my head up and cocked to the right. (I do this a lot. While most have their head down in I assume praying I find myself looking up. It is instinctual for one to put their head down in respect. Yet, I always seem to keep my head up. It just feels natural.  I need to keep my head up to get all that is coming up to me) Sitting in class in the front row (Yeah, I've been  a geeky, goody-goody at the front of class) It was just that I was locked in. Didn’t want to miss a thing.  I wanted--no, I needed--to see the body language and hear the inflections . It helps me keep in tune with what is important with the speaker.

The morning mass ended quickly. In passing, the Father gave me an assuring clasp on the arm. He smiled before walking out the door. Well, I went to the back to my original seat before the Tithing incident. I just went back and sat. I just sat and took it all in. Three older Hispanic men, maybe 10 years or so older than me, went to where the Bible (I think) is held. They just put their hand on the stand and knelt down for a good minute. It looked like football players huddled at the end of the game. They had their heads down and I assume gave a final prayer.

Most of the people left. I just sat there with another older lady. I found myself putting my hand to my face and started crying. Don’t know what was pent up and why I started crying. I just did. Nose got stuffy and my eyes were red. Not the stinging kind of crying where something bad has happened it was just a. . .I don't know. A letting go. They say crying is just the body letting go of all this pent up emotion. Don’t know where any of this came from, but there I was. Hands to my face just . . .crying. 

Well, there I sat. I was taking it all in. Catching my breath. I counted the lights overhead. I studied the design of the pane glass window circle, trying to figure if there was symbolism to it or was just pretty. Symbolism is everywhere. For instance, the color purple and gold, represents the colors of the King, royalty. Ashes on the forehead during lent. Forty days of whatever, i.e., Noah, time in the desert, etc.

One can see the main hall, where most of the masses are held, on the other side. Each row had seven chairs on left and right side of the room. I think there was 6 or 7 rows of chairs, which means there is 98 or 84 chairs in the room. There was the two podiums, one in the center where the Bible (I assume is held) and then there is podium where (or was it a table) where the father the wine and the bready thingy was. (I apologize for not knowing the proper names) I will ask next time. A picture of Mary holding baby Jesus was placed to the right next to door. There were three large crosses interspaced between the tables. Table cloths were white with purple and gold accents.

Well, that was my first morning mass. It was many things at once.  Don’t know if I can make it tomorrow, but this will definitely not be my last time.