Cramped Energies


spirit_bannister

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Photograph Source Unknown

The sounds of the old floor boards in the house creaked; as he stealthily walked to the cellar where the eerie sounds came from.

It was a old farm house with the dilapidated unused, side porch in view of our kitchen. The weed overgrowth was tangled and the vines grew uncontrollably up the sides.

We entered the house from the summer kitchen on the other side. The front entrance was in bad shape. The front door was for the most part unhinged and the porch was missing wooden planks.The winding wooden stairway from the front entrance was unstable, but sliding down the banisters was a great past time.

My sisters and I laid in our beds and watched his shadow and the gun he carried in his hands.

Earlier that evening we watched as he sit at the kitchen table with his head in his hands, depressed, thinking of the tribulations he endured in World War 11. A small glass of wine was in front of him.

He did not drink…something was different.

The house we lived in was huge. In the winter’s the entire bottom floor was seldom used to conserve heat.

On many occasions we witnessed various entities, visitors from another realm. Doors opening, lights flickering and apparitions of persons in flowing white robes.

The gunshot rang out  in the silence of the night.

Our minds went haywire thinking of different scenario’s. The after effects.

He had entered the cellar and found where the sound was coming from. The discharge of the gun frightened us. We pulled the covers over our heads and waited, shivering in fear.

What ever it was, no longer existed. Perhaps a squirrel or other rodent that had gotten stuck in the cramped floor boards.

Maybe, it was something else.

Years later the home was renovated and made into apartments. The visitors never left.

They were home.

My thoughts on being a EX JW


The fear of burning forever in a fiery grave without the hope of eternal bliss has put FEAR in place of Love in man’s hearts.

If you’re a religious person, it’s easy to convert and become a spiritual person, but if you’re a spiritual person, there is no way in hell, that you would ever think about becoming a religious person.

It would be like finishing college and then starting kindergarten all over again. Once you shed your religious skin, you will never go back.

I for one among many am not in denial, I am very much AWAKE and I will never go back to the pits of that organization called the Watchtower.

May my Mother rest in eternal peace awaiting the New Earth she was promised. Oh and Only 144,000 going to Heaven…please don’t get me started on that one.

I have always said  “Anyway the wind blows as long as it isn’t any where near a Kingdom Hall “.

The teachings of this organization have led so many down the wrong path and all for the wrong reasons.

Our family was totally destroyed by the so called unconditional love showed within the organization.

We tried to get our loved ones to truly see the light and they were told we were liars and apostates.

They were not allowed to even ask questions for fear of being reprimanded.

I am not here to bash anyone. I do not think a person’s belief system should be ridiculed.

It is after all there life and there future.

Religion has become obsolete. The Popes are corrupt, The little

Lambs are being raped and plundered by pedophiles within.

accomplished accomplished
 
             Current Music:
Dark Side of the Moon (Pink Floyd)
Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day
You fritter and waste the hours in an offhand way.
Kicking around on a piece of ground in your home town
Waiting for someone or something to show you the way.
Tired of lying in the sunshine staying home to watch the rain.
You are young and life is long and there is time to kill today.
And then one day you find ten years have got behind you.
No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun.
So you run and you run to catch up with the sun but it’s sinking
Racing around to come up behind you again.
The sun is the same in a relative way but you’re older,
Shorter of breath and one day closer to death.Every year is getting shorter never seem to find the time.
Plans that either come to naught or half a page of scribbled lines
Hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way
The time is gone, the song is over,
Thought I’d something more to say.

Home, home again
I like to be here when I can
And when I come home cold and tired
Its good to warm my bones beside the fire
Far away across the field
The tolling of the iron bell
Calls the faithful to their knees
To hear the softly spoken magic spells.

My Older Sister


Sisters

I received an email from my older sister asking me to go down memory lane and email her back the “Little Memories” I had of her and I growing up.

My reply:

I remember the fishing trip when you and I were in the back seat and dad stopped suddenly and that HUGE  fish-hook that he had in one of those pockets in the backseat embedded in your knee. How painful that must have been. I remember dad cutting off the tip with pliers and then to the hospital we went.

I don’t remember you cutting all my pretty blonde curls off when I was three. I do know Mama kept them forever in an envelope.

I remember going to the drive in as a family and there would be an accident and we would never make it.

Dad always stopped to help save people.

I don’t remember you riding the subways with us to Yankee stadium, nor you being at —- Cleveland’s.

I always went to the movies with —- and —- . There dad worked right next door to the Tivoli at Cannon Shoe Store. After school we would go to his job and he would give us money for the movies.We seen all the Sandra Dee and Annette Funicello movies. (A Summer Place) we watched it over and over.
We used to sit in the (Black Only ) section cause we thought they were the best seats.

Who would have thought?

I do recall you telling me to catch the spider in that dark, musky well at Gavers.
Mama freaked out. Those big water spiders were huge.

I remember as I got older you were always telling on me.

I do remember sled riding with you and making the ice crack in the creek when we stepped on it, and mama would get so upset cause our feet were always wet.

We were always frozen little warriors 🙂

I remember watching Howdy Doody with you. We would put that special plastic on the screen of the TV when they told us to and then it was like magic too us. We had a Howdy Doody pool at Gavers.

Mama would take us on long hikes up to the mountain stream. We would sit on the rock and have a picnic. Then we would throw our banana peels in the water and watch them float away. I lost a shoe in the the quagmire. It made some bubbles and disappeared. We thought it was quicksand.

We used to play with our paper dolls together and dress them all pretty.

I remember I was really into science projects and dad finally got me the invisible man. You thought it would be great to paint the parts, so we did. Dad was not pleased.

I remember making shadows on the wall in our bedroom we shared. We could hear the singing sisters from the hollow and we would get scared cause mama said they had died and there was no way we heard singing.

She said it was just the wind.

I remember going too that church on Dill Ave and getting trapped in the bathroom. The air was stuffy and we were so frightened. We couldn’t get the door open and tried getting out the window but it was locked. Everyone told us the door was locked from the inside but we didn’t lock it.

I remember coming to see you at your JOB. I was so proud that you were my big sister. The Keeper of the books.

I wasn’t home too much back then (Dill Ave) I hung with —– and —–  who mama did not like. Then of course there was my running off too Rockville w/ — and living with —  and —–. That’s when dad actually said I was not welcome home anymore and I had pulled that stunt once too often. That is when I moved in with — and his mom on Canberra. I was barely 18.

I remember I would leave with just a toothbrush in my back pocket.

I have often wondered a great deal the significance of my poem “Tin Roof”
Now, that I am older I can’t state with any positiveness that I know what really happened.

The words in my poetry do lead me too ask why that was on my mind?

The Poem Tin Roof”

If these walls could talk what would they say
would we hear the laughter,
see the tears
would we hear secrets
spoken in whispers
of days past
would we see our daydreams and imaginations
take flight into the night
would our dreams and nightmares come true
like they did in the rooms
the rain is falling,
tear drops on the tin roof
the tiger is trying to get through the window
when I wake there is blood on my arm
was it the torn and broken window screen,
what was I fighting

Mama

On July 31st 1924

Universe decided that Mr and Mrs would welcome a baby girl into their arms
They would love her dearly
She was a beautiful baby
fair of skin
with curly strawberry blonde hair
she was sensitive and kind
seeking knowledge about life’s secrets
she chose a path after all her children were born
it was what she said a narrow path
that many would not find
she was satisfied with this path
and never wavered
it separated our family in many ways
and yet today each of us have found our path
Realizing there are many paths leading to the “ONE”
Her “Truth” was not ours
We remember our parents love
as they welcomed each of us into their arms
Today as the full blue moon rises we know
The “man in the moon” still watches over all of us

© Cynthia Martz

Trying 2 Dance


dancers

The Dance of Youth

by Pablo Picasso

I’m trying to Dance.

Names changed

I went to see Purple today and he was there. An EX stopped in to clean his window shield but I think he came to see Purple but noticed her new interest and made up something.

I then went too Publix and got needed items, I went for cat food but of course ended up with other items I needed.

Then came home and made Chicken breast fried and cut up , hamburger for Taco’s and they were delicious. I added wasabi to the chicken. Purple came home rushing as always and misplacing things. Her mind is so scattered with HIM on her brain and all the other stuff of everyday.

I checked the mail and the sunny seat for the cats was in my mailbox. It did not fit the window and I had to attach it sideways. The cats still love it.

Sun_Seat_Minnie

Minnie on her Sunny window seat.

The rest of the mail I took a quick glance at and figured it was trash mail. Then my sister’s name caught my eye and the contents looked like something I should open. Glad I did. My sweet sister sent me a very nice early monetary check gift for my birthday on the 18 th of November.

I put water on to boil for tea, waited a bit and then placed the tea bags and asked her  to remind me. When Purple was leaving she said “Mom, is something burning”?”

It was the tea. The bags had exploded and made a mess. I knew even if I strained it, the tea would be way past too strong.

Perhaps I am a bit scattered myself ?

I started another pot, round two. I waited till it boiled and set it to the side. The stove was a mess too clean but then again I had all the fixings to clean up and put away in containers as Purple went out the door with hers too go.

Now, I have a request from a young , long time friend. The mother of my Icy Blue. Her tea party is the 2nd, actually her 6 th birthday is the 3rd and I bought the fetti cake and sprinkles for the cupcakes I was going to make for the tea party. It has been changed to the 10 th so I have a few more days. She wants me to burn her a tea party music CD. The search will begin mañana.

I apologized to someone and decided not too ever apologize to some one else. Too much pain and heartache along with a boat load of lies. Then again never say never. They say Smile

For some it is easy to forgive and forget. I suppose they would be the ones who are not imprisoned and whose families have NOT lost practically everything along the way.

News today. All is forgiven…someone must be ecstatic. Wonder how she handles her guilty conscience ? She has never taken any responsibility or paid any dues. Those that choose to save their own ass seem to be favored in our judicial system. Terminology here is plain and simple. Snitch – someone acting as an informer or decoy for the police)

I choose not to vote
I choose not to be on a man-made jury

For the same reason I find myself to be part of a drama that I choose too be involved in. Still after 7-8 years it continues.

All is forgiven, how does that work ?

We have been torn apart in our hearts and cried so much over the vindictiveness in what happened.  Not my place to decide someone’s fate.
I am not the one to do that.

Some things are unforgivable.

But again, I am not the Judge.

I am also not the forgiving sort of person to a blatant liar and untrustworthy being.

and then I read this

Why is it so difficult for us to forgive others? Why do we find it so hard to let go?

Sometimes, even years after a certain incident; sometimes, even after they have apologized; sometimes, when they have hurt you unknowingly and have no idea that you are struggling to forgive them.

Why?

Because we are usually under the misconception that we will be doing them a favor by forgiving them.

That in fact, is not the case.

When we forgive someone, we actually do ourselves a huge favor because through forgiveness.

We release all the negative thoughts, emotions and energies that we are so desperately holding in our anger.

Replaying the moment again and again in our mind, torturing ourselves in so many ways.

It hurts us more than them, when we don’t forgive.

We find it hard to forgive because we think we are in the more powerful position when we hold back forgiveness.

Actually we are the weak ones, if that’s the kind of power we rely on to give us strength.

We are also not able to forgive because we take everything so personally.

Not everything another person does is done with a conscious intention of hurting you.

Sometimes they are just trying to protect themselves and that’s the best way they know how to protect themselves.

Haven’t you heard of the saying  ‘The Best Defense is Offense’?

We need to give allowance to others for their insecurities and their imperfections without taking things personally.

So even if you do it for the most selfish of reasons, go ahead and forgive.

First, forgive yourself for holding the grudge for as long as you did.

Then, forgive the other person.

Finally, be proud of yourself.

Author Unknown

On to something else

I don’t know what’s worse~ being expected to do something or being told what to do and how to do it. I believe anything a woman can do a man can do just as well…even if they don’t like the softness of dish pan hands.

Never was about “that’s a woman’s job or Hey, that’s a man’s job”.

I don’t need a man to take the garbage out and get rid of annoying bugs for me, unless of course he turns into one… an annoying better than you bug.

conflict

Honouring & Letting Go Of Your Ancestral Programming « ContemporaryShaman


My mama used the green syrup. I remember she needed a bit of it. This article speaks of those days when she lost her dream and was in another reality. That of being married and raising a family. Religion knocked on her door and she was never the same. Her husband provided everything else and felt great about it. So, different from this age we are in. Babies having babies and so much more dysfunction and mayhem. Probably was just as much dysfunction back then. We can only wonder of the secrets.

Now, it’s the Born This Way People being there selves. No matter what.

As the saying goes “We’ve come a long way baby”

Looking for the probability of cleaning a silver ring that got iodine on it. I found this a long the way. It is a great blog about our ancestors and how they lived with the light they had. Can’t ask more than that of anyone.

If you remember this era was the time of the influx of Valium ‘mothers little helpers’. Women felt lost in this day-to-day programme and other than playing bridge and going to a business cocktail party she felt she was missing something.

via Honouring & Letting Go Of Your Ancestral Programming « ContemporaryShaman.

Forget Me Not

“Don’t forget me!” This beautiful flower came to be known as Forget-me-not, associated in the language of flowers with true love – the love that never dies.


Copyright ©2012~ Cynthia Martz
Copyright ©2012~ Cynthia Martz

Thoughts of my mama and dad just went through me like a summer breeze on a warm day…

A story about forgetmenots, the Flower.

There was a young man and woman and they were walking on a mountain trail one day and she saw these lovely flowers on the bank. The man being young and in love decided to climb down the mountain a bit and retrieve the lovely flowers for her. They were dainty like her, soft and the color of the sky. The center was yellow and reminded him of her blonde hair.

According to an ancient legend, a knight about to get married, dressed in his armor, was taking a ride along a river with his fiancée. His fiancée saw an extremely beautiful bunch of blue flowers rocking on the waves, and asked her paramour to pick them up. As he reached over to get them, the knight slipped and fell into the river.

The heavy armor hindered him from swimming and he started sinking into the water, but not before throwing her the blue flowers and shouting: “Don’t forget me!” This beautiful flower came to be known as Forget-me-not, associated in the language of flowers with true love – the love that never dies.

My dad carried this from my mama in WW 2.

My mother loved the dainty flowers and always had forget me nots in her home.

dadcarriedforgetmenotflowers_heart