Like Water ‪…….

Sometimes you can’t even explain what you feel for a person. It’s like trying to explain what water tastes like , it’s impossible. –

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To be sure…I am a forest, and a night of dark trees: but he who is not afraid of my darkness, will find banks full of Roses under my Cypresses ” ~~~ Friedrich Nietzsche.    

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Blame Nobody.

Expect Nothing.

Do Something .

“Sometimes it’s to your advantage for people to think you’re crazy” – Thelonious Monk

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The man with the Angel Tattoo.

So I think its time for this blog to be written. I was thinking about a lot of things yesterday, in my head and then something very special happened. I was driving and  picked up a customer, he was waiting on the side of the road. He was handsome, nice smile. He was friendly. As I was driving him something very special happened.

He decided to tell me his story. I believe when someone shares something very personal with a complete stranger that it is a gift. Some people find it strange or weird but I think it is an offering of some kind. A glimpse into their soul.

I accept it when this happens to me; I actually  treasure it like a beautiful shell or smooth piece of sea glass I find on the beach. Little gifts from god.

I don’t know if this man will ever read this, probably not but I want to thank him just the same. He shared a traumatic story about his childhood and how it affected him as an adult. He told me how he handled it and how his anger overtook him for a large part of his life. I cannot tell you his complete story but I will tell you part of it. This man was given looks, athletic ability, high IQ and intelligence. But he was angry. Very angry and he never really understood why. He had suppressed the events that happened to him for years. But all of a sudden he remembered. And he cried.

One day he decided  to kill one of the people who had hurt him very badly as a child.. So he bought a gun, he drove to the person’s house and sat there, sober and aware. He said he waited a few hours getting the nerve to commit a murder and as he was about to get out of the car, a 90-year-old black woman with white hair, came up to his car and knocked on the car window.  He rolled down the window and she gave him a piece of paper of some kind. It said you are loved, God loves you. As he was looking down at the paper to see what it said, she said what was written there. She said You are loved. God Loves You. He  looked back up and she had vanished. just vanished, into thin air. He said he had that piece of paper for years in his wallet and it eventually fell apart from showing it to people and telling them the story. He told me his friends and people he told  didn’t believe the story and said he probably was seeing things and he was delusional. He said she was real and no way could she have walked away from the car that fast, she was very old. He said she was an ANGEL. He said he didn’t do drugs and he wasn’t drunk and he knew it happened.

After she gave him that paper, YOU ARE LOVED, GOD LOVES YOU. He felt someone had reached into his insides, his heart and pulled all the pain that was in his body and pulled it out. The weight had been lifted. This is all true, this is what he told me. The pain was gone. He put the gun back in the glove compartment and drove home. He didn’t murder anyone that night and all he had left to prove what happened was this piece of paper and his memory.

He said no one believed him. But he stopped drinking so much, He stopped getting into bar fights and he found comfort in a Christian church and was happy for the first time in his life. As he was telling me his story it was hard not to get goosebumps. I listened and when we got to the destination I turned around. I took his hand and I thanked him for his story, for his offering into his soul. I said it meant so much to me that he shared it with me and as I was holding his hand I noticed his angel tattoo on his forearm. It was quite large.

I looked at it and he saw me staring at it and he said that was there before I met my angel. The old black lady with the white hair. I said your soul called her to you. I believe the angel story because I have some of my own. He gave me some caring advice that he thought I needed to hear and got out of my car. I was very emotional. I cried.

Sometimes you have to be broken open before you can be healed. I think he had been broken open and I feel I have been as well. Before you can be stitched back up you have to forgive and be forgived. I realized then that it was time to say I am sorry. I have been thinking about this for a while. It’s time. So here it is.

I AM SORRY.

No excuses this time. No Buts or Whys. Just Sorry.

I am sorry if I hurt you in any way.

I am sorry if my words were harsh or insensitive.

I am sorry if I hurt you in my inability to communicate correctly. ‘

I am sorry if I hurt your feelings in my own confusion or lack of understanding.

I am sorry if I hurt you when I was unbalanced or mentally ill.

I did my best with what I had to work with. I tried to help myself but it took me 45 years to figure it all out, My heart was always in a good place but I had trouble communicating that sometimes.

I AM SORRY.

I ask you to get to know the me in front of you today. I am a living evolving human being with a open heart. I ask for your clemency.

I hope you can accept my offering of apology and I hope you can forgive me as I forgive.

I forgive it all.

I thank the Man with the Angel Tattoo as he never did give me his name but he did give me his soul, a piece of it anyway and I thank him for that.

I also want to thank all of my Angels. All of you. Thankyou!

As for the rest; This song is for all of you. I love you all.

Love and Happiness,

JLOZ.

Of dog eat dog, of mighty crush the weak.

Let America Be America Again

Langston Hughes, 1902 – 1967

Let America be America again.

Let it be the dream it used to be.

Let it be the pioneer on the plain

Seeking a home where he himself is free.

(America never was America to me.)

Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed—

Let it be that great strong land of love

Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme

That any man be crushed by one above.

(It never was America to me.)

O, let my land be a land where Liberty

Is crowned with no false patriotic wreath,

But opportunity is real, and life is free,

Equality is in the air we breathe.

(There’s never been equality for me,

Nor freedom in this “homeland of the free.”)

Say, who are you that mumbles in the dark?

And who are you that draws your veil across the stars?

I am the poor white, fooled and pushed apart,

I am the Negro bearing slavery’s scars.

I am the red man driven from the land,

I am the immigrant clutching the hope I seek—

And finding only the same old stupid plan

Of dog eat dog, of mighty crush the weak.

I am the young man, full of strength and hope,

Tangled in that ancient endless chain

Of profit, power, gain, of grab the land!

Of grab the gold! Of grab the ways of satisfying need!

Of work the men! Of take the pay!

Of owning everything for one’s own greed!

I am the farmer, bondsman to the soil.

I am the worker sold to the machine.

I am the Negro, servant to you all.

I am the people, humble, hungry, mean—

Hungry yet today despite the dream.

Beaten yet today—O, Pioneers!

I am the man who never got ahead,

The poorest worker bartered through the years.

Yet I’m the one who dreamt our basic dream

In the Old World while still a serf of kings,

Who dreamt a dream so strong, so brave, so true,

That even yet its mighty daring sings

In every brick and stone, in every furrow turned

That’s made America the land it has become.

O, I’m the man who sailed those early seas

In search of what I meant to be my home—

For I’m the one who left dark Ireland’s shore,

And Poland’s plain, and England’s grassy lea,

And torn from Black Africa’s strand I came

To build a “homeland of the free.”

The free?

Who said the free? Not me?

Surely not me? The millions on relief today?

The millions shot down when we strike?

The millions who have nothing for our pay?

For all the dreams we’ve dreamed

And all the songs we’ve sung

And all the hopes we’ve held

And all the flags we’ve hung,

The millions who have nothing for our pay—

Except the dream that’s almost dead today.

O, let America be America again—

The land that never has been yet—

And yet must be—the land where every man is free.

The land that’s mine—the poor man’s, Indian’s, Negro’s, ME—

Who made America,

Whose sweat and blood, whose faith and pain,

Whose hand at the foundry, whose plow in the rain,

Must bring back our mighty dream again.

Sure, call me any ugly name you choose—

The steel of freedom does not stain.

From those who live like leeches on the people’s lives,

We must take back our land again,

America!

O, yes,

I say it plain,

America never was America to me,

And yet I swear this oath—

America will be!

Out of the rack and ruin of our gangster death,

The rape and rot of graft, and stealth, and lies,

We, the people, must redeem

The land, the mines, the plants, the rivers.

The mountains and the endless plain—

All, all the stretch of these great green states—

And make America again!

Walkers with the Dawn ..

There are many reasons I love Langston Hughes. Many of the same reasons we all love Helen Keller. I learned about Helen Keller in highschool, I didn’t learn about Langston Hughes until I found him on my own. Both are heroes to this world. They both offered such beautiful insight on how they see the world, both courageous , both beautiful, both inspiring. Both could be from a place of Extreme darkness or enlightened walkers of the sun and morning. These two poems were on my mind today. I pray for all the children that are crying and suffering. I pray for them and their parents. Sometimes I feel like I don’t even believe in god anymore but I pray anyway. I am a spiritual Christian and sometimes my faith is tested when I see such atrocities and how the world is going. Sometimes I feel that the churches have been so passive in action when our brothers and sisters needed action. Even During the Civil Rights movement , why didn’t more white churches help? These were and still now our brothers and sisters. They are not illegal aliens. They are US. I hope their darkness ends but I know too well how unjust this world can be but I will pray just the same to any god that will listen for their safety and to stop the cries and suffering as soon as possible. I pray that they have strength to continue the journey wherever it may lead. My eyes are red because children are crying for their mommy and daddy and it is one of the most horrific things to listen too and our world is getting smaller and the news is getting harsher. How can we repeat history? Horrible atrocities should never be repeated. I pray they get to see the light again. I pray for the babies to once again be in the arms of their parents. I pray they find a way to survive together. I pray they have strength to survive. I pray they are walkers with the sun and the morning.

Walkers with the Dawn

Being walkers with the dawn and morning,
Walkers with the sun and morning,
We are not afraid of night,
Nor days of gloom,
Nor darkness–
Being walkers with the sun and morning.

by Langston Hughes

Helen Keller

She,
In the dark,
Found light
Brighter than many ever see.

She,
Within herself,
Found loveliness,
Through the soul’s own mastery.

And now the world receives
From her dower:
The message of the strength
Of inner power.

Langston Hughes

New Hope

So I took a impromptu day trip to New Hope today with a friend and that town is so beautiful, especially at night. I met some really great shop owners and people and had a great time. The Tye Dye store had this cool couple and two dogs. The woman owner is a Melissa McCarthy clone. Everything she said was funny. I loved her and  their dogs. They are expanding  and opening a second store in Asbury Park. They do all their Tye Dye product in house. I wish them the best of luck..  These dogs were tired from a hard days wotk. I took a few pictures  while I was walking around there and a few on my on my way there as well so I will share them with you here  There is something about that town that comes alive when dusk falls.        EE274845-6435-4397-A9E6-CF05A48E9498 This picture of the shop of India really spoke to me so I took a picture. I don’t know why things speak to me but when they do it’s very clear. I walked into the sweetest bookstore and I meant to take a picture of that too but I didn’t. I got distracted by this adorable card of Billie Holiday and it comes with cute stickers as well. So cute. I got one for a friend.

Zora Neale Hurston was there too.

New Hope It is a town for lovers.  Friends too but when your there you can’t help but long to be with the one you love, especially when the Sun starts to melt. Once I stayed there years ago and I stayed in a little inn called the Logan Inn. The cool thing about the Logan Inn is it is haunted. Ghosts! Yes. Very cool.  I stayed in a room that was haunted and a ghost lived there. I never did see her. Her name is Emily, room 6. Doesn’t mean she wasn’t there. I would stay there again. Maybe I’ll get lucky next time.

On the way there I saw this adorable Hot Dog Stand, Johnny’s. It was so 1950’s and it was next to a babbling brook. Really sweet. I had to stop and take a few shots. Sometimes you drive into a spot or a place and it takes you back in time. It can be anything like a shady bend with a wooden billboard or a little motel with a shady maple and vintage Sign saying the same. When that happens it’s the closest thing to time travel I know. I told my friend I had to stop and take a few pictures. I’m used to getting the eye roll or why? but I don’t care lol.

This friend was cool though. She didn’t mind, I saw a bunch of Barns with horses and could have stopped all day but we had to get to our destination. It’s hard for me to see horses and not stop. They are so beautiful. I am still waiting to see my wild mustangs. Wild Mustangs, we will ride them some day. As we were walking around I spotted my girl. I always have to take a picture of her when I see her cause she also speaks to me. Always has. Hey Girl! I Love Marilyn. 💋. I put her in my super star tragic hero category. People like her, Prince, Michael Jackson, James Dean, Elvis, the super stars. They die young. It’s too much for their hearts and minds, the burden of such extreme fame. And in the end it leaves us with the sorrowful residue of their greatness.

Time to sign off. There will be a New Hope 2 blog coming soon. Until then.

Love and Happiness,

Jeanne

Sometimes first times are “Simply Beautiful”

Even since I moved back to my childhood home I have noticed some things for the first time. The way the sun hits the blue glass at different times during the day and makes different color rainbows. Or how small my bedroom was when I was five. I remember there was a small bed and my dad made me a little desk out of plywood that hung from two wires and you could pull it down to use it but when you weren’t using it you could push it against the wall . It was a space saver. He was a smart guy that way. I find little notes around the house with his handwriting on it. Old bills and stuff. He wrote in this little block lettering like how Engineers write. All CAPS. I can’t throw them away and I am sure my mom can’t either. I remember stairs going down to the basement and now it’s just a closet… I like the stairs, it was like a secret doorway. Wish it was still there. They needed the closet space so they took the stairs out. On this closet door in the back hallway off the kitchen there is this little door knob. It’s a face of a lion. I never noticed that before. That’s weird to me.

I was taking a shower and for the first time ever I realized I can see the Sun Set while I take a shower if I just pull down the top shade. It was “Simply Beautiful”

Sometimes beautiful things are not that far away .. you just have to figure out a way to see them.

I have to remember that. I left you with a beautiful song in honor of Mr. Al Green’s Birthday today. Friday the 13th.

It’s called Simply Beautiful and that it is.

Love and Happiness,

JLoz.