Third Entity in Romantic Relationships

 Relationships can be hard. No one had a perfect childhood or has no "issues and they cannot be solved fully, or through religion, therapy, meditation, and yoga. Often, as Harville Hendrix said years ago you grow most in committed relationships with those who will be there e for you through the good and bad moments and times.

A third entity must be God, Jesus Christ, and it is best in a Greek Orthodox context. 

Besides this, the third entity is also the "we", the relationship. Recently, a relationship I had with someone was a baby. After no communication about what I did not like, I ruined it, consciously, and I thought I was killing the baby. If both of us fostered it, it would be growing now. But I could not lower my standards enough to warrant having a sort of or on-and-off relationship. 

Perhaps, if both of us watered that baby, we'd be together, closer daily, or at least monthly, through the ups and downs.

Intersection of Art, Science and Religion

 This is an email to Bible class and will be edited and added to in the future:

I still think you need works and that Orthodoxy thinks you need both, or it seems too much like the Protestant 
"I am saved" and that is it.

I also think we are obligated, within the parameters of our choices, and giving ourselves times to rest, to grow and increase our talents to show appreciation for what God gave us, inspire others (which can also mean doctors since medicine with art; medicine is not the only thing that heals), and make a difference, including by sharing any money gained.

For those of us not called to be nuns or monks, we are going to be in this world. For some, given their personalities and circumstances, that may mean to concentrate on family. For others that is or includes art and science. If those are done in the context of having faith, the person has two entities going for them. I have seen what a female psychologist said, an emptiness of some artists (and perhaps if they are not anchored in faith, some turn to drugs, etc.), but I have alternatively seen some artists, especially dancers, who are loving and spiritual whether Christian or Orthodox or not. (In fact, I think of all artists, dancers are the most special no matter the race, gender, sexuality, or religion) in general. (You can find jerks everywhere)

With art, whether music, a poem, or dance, you can explain all kinds of human conditions and emotions, albeit not of Heaven or just praising God, but that are in the world which, after all, God gave us (although it was influenced by the Fall). If an artist can express the complication of human emotions, the beauty of what another may overlook like a rose or even an orange, our psychology and more, while being in and appreciating Christ or God or at least human love (for atheists), that is divine and sacred.

An artist can express angst or death via music, a painting, a dance a photograph, and show suffering in the world, as we spoke about on Zoom.

Some desires can also be to me since we are of and in this world and you can always be Christ-conscious.

A scientist interested in a bacterium, as well, while having a passion to understand God's world and help to cure a disease, fight for the environment, or other, also is often being Christ- or God-conscious.

On the other hand, many in church who are middle or upper class, may speak about doing away with passions, while giving 1% of what they have for others. And that may include myself.

We can keep God first, but work on our talents and be ourselves as we grow daily and have free will.

I can write more, but will wrap Here is some wonderful chanting: 

Gaslighting

I will post something short now, as it is late and I am listening to a wonderful vigil for Saint Porphyrios from Zoodochos Peghe Greek Orthodox Church in the Bronx.

My father always called me "athoa" or innocent in Greek. I am finding out why these last years. It is beyond me, although I do have the capacity both ways good and bad in extremes, that people can be evil, sadistic, jealous, and aiming to destroy others' souls and self-confidence.

They may do this consciously or subconsciously, as I have seen even in close family members, not to mention frenemies and strangers.

Often, this is in the guise that they want to tell you the truth about who you are, your personality, your looks, your talents, your abilities, your relationships, your future. Ultimately, YOU get to say.

Curiously, these are the same people that are most "sensitive" when you tell them a FRACTION of anything back. They often back away like wounded animals. Poor babies

I am a Christian, but often not a good one. I do have a mouth, and will use it. If someone is not with me on my birthday or Christmas Eve, they are most likely or surely not with me. So what the fuck! Let the tongue loose finally.

More is to come.

Happy Saint Porphyrios Day! He said to pray for enemies and be good. I am not usually Saint Porphyrios. God help us, or them.

Older Women and Younger Men

I have cursed less and less through the years, but after reading Kelly Ripa's book, I gather since she has a loving husband and children, parents and in-laws, a good career and millions, I will be authentic --

WTF is the taboo with older women and younger men? Last year a woman who is a year older than I am and who attended my Greek church grammar school, went on in an embarrassed way about how she is THREE (Wow!!!) years younger than her husband. They are married with children from years. WTF I think her older celebrity sister married a much younger man, after a divorce with one probably her age or older.

Come to think of it, most divorces are with men older than women. An uncle of mine, the best man at my parent's wedding, got married for a second time at 45 years old to his wife who was 18. He took her straight out of the villager around 1971. They have seven grandchildren. All three of their children are married. I do not know if they are happy. None of the couples is divorced.

Another lady at the same church recently, who married a Protestant from Trinidad, looked to the floor as if she had just killed a baby elephant or a baby, and said that her husband is THREE (!!!) years younger than she is. They met on vacation, he was a complete gentleman to her, getting her a dozen roses plus one for a girlfriend once, he converted to Greek Orthodoxy and they have three healthy children. A fortune teller from Atlantic City, that we are not supposed to believe in as priests say they open the way to demons, predicted his name or something. So why the hell id she seem apologetic?

Men die before women anyway, so usually women are stuck being nurses, so naturally women should marry younger men, if they meet the "right" one. What matters is if people get along, if it a good fit, if they have enough things in common, if they have enough things to teach each other or complement each other with and a common future direction. 

Research can yield more statistics. I did not check for the precision of these. Here are two I found readily.

https://www.statista.com/statistics/241572/death-rate-by-age-and-sex-in-the-us/

https://www.worlddata.info/life-expectancy.php#:~:text=The%20world%20average%20age%20of,data%20from%20the%20year%202020.

A male dance teacher I had, God bless him, died of a rare brain cancer in his 40s. He had the body of a 20-year-old, at least looking at him, and also was an acrobat, I believe, not easy. He tried many alternative therapies and went to MSKCC. Another dance teacher, a female, died at 102 years old.

They say men are visual. Then wtf are women, especially women artists and editors. We can find a wrong comma in pages of hard science material! We love and overlook beer bellies, wrinkles and rotting teeth! Meanwhile, a woman has a few gray hairs and two fine lines and 35 to 50 years old = 80 years old. WTF! And these men may not even kiss, or as Kelly wrote, be able to find a clitoris (or know what to do with it). Now maybe we can all grow to overlook looks totally, but those or at least chemistry matter. Someone's heart, smarts and especially CHARACTER, may make up for them. Often,  however, older men that are 60 that think of course they will get a 40-year-old (or younger) woman, are a-holes, commenting on any body flaw that they PERCEIVE she has while they are a demolished building. The same goes for those that are 70 thinking they will be with a 50-year-old because they have money or they look so good. WTF Often, they may have utterly racist, cheap and other hideous qualities to boot! I remember an old New Yorker cartoon where an in-shape woman looks in the mirror and sees a fat woman, while a multi-twin beer-belly man looks in the mirror and sees a handsome hunk.

We see acceptance of trans surgery for children, talking about sex to children under 12 years old, and drag queens in classrooms and libraries. (They have their place in art, but not in classrooms or libraries of children.) Yet if a woman is 30 dating a 25-year-old she may be called a "cougar," as if labels like "slut" and "bitch" are not enough! WTF!

I think we should each have a train of good men, younger or not, pining after us, try them out, keep the good and throw out the rest.

Distinctions from Canadian Geese II and a Miracle

August 11, until minutes ago, was my birthday. A miracle happened. After seeing Cody/Codette sweating from his/her tongue, having diarrhea at least once, following me like I am their stepmother, and gnawing on dead leaves, I returned to the park today to find around 22 other geese! He waited. They came.
Was it my clearing?
I went to finding a problem or complaint:  I could not tell if any were from his family. Why doesn't God make geese look more different from each other? Cody/Codette has a white mark on their head.
I wish I knew who was a boy or a girl too.
Well, the part of me that is like my mother was at times always finds a problem. A miracle cannot be enough...
Yet I am happy about it.
Sigh

Check out my books on www.Authorhouse.com or www.Amazon.com The Boy in a Wheelchair, Life, Work and Play and PocketGuide to Fitness and Musings on www.Lulu.com. 

The Goose

Well, there is only one goose left. I am devastated. I did get a bit unattached days ago.
It is not one I particularly liked. my favorites were Mosely the father that I first saw and Psoma who ate from my hand. This one, Cody if a boy or Codette if a girl, poked at a sibling and his Dad if I recall and freely shook his/her butt and pooped.

The charm of Cody/Codette has grown on me. I recall he/she loved to primp their feathers with their beak, to scratch their back with the back of their head, and to spread their wings and stretch. He/she, like the other ones, close their eyes with their lower white eyelids and stand on one leg.

I wonder if park goers, mostly Moslems, took the geese for food. They seem peaceful. 
Today was a major holiday for them and I did not see any of them bothering geese. One jogger said that he is a local and other years saw geese leave and return. Let's hope that happens. Other theories are that evil teenagers killed them or perhaps animals like foxes and coyotes. Or perhaps they went away, single or in small groups, and will return. Sigh. I will be an FBI agent until I find out.

I visit Cody/Codette, how has yet to eat from my hand and at times has been fed bread by others. He/she continues their gestures. Days ago, he/she kept company with tow young duckettes, that are now gone. Cody/Codette floats around, eats, drinks in muddy water, and today was chewing on dead twigs and a potato chip bag. Was he/she "brushing their teeth? I am fascinated.

I recalled an acting teacher saying often that a baby, child, pet or animal will upstage the best actor. Why? They are being themselves. They do not want to defend or prove anything. They are not self-conscious. I cannot imagine Cody/Codette thinking: "How am I chewing this grass? Is my ass fat? Can they see me poop? How should I best spend my time today?"

I have thought that at times I have sweated different people because they had or put up a show that they had what I did not have or really thought I did not have at the moment:  a certain fitness level, a career, a carefree attitude. Cody/Codette does not have this problem. And this is what makes him/her so fascinating. Besides, he/she is so sweet. 

Check out my books on www.Authorhouse.com or www.Amazon.com The Boy in a Wheelchair, Life, Work and Play and PocketGuide to Fitness and Musings on www.Lulu.com. 

Distinctions from Canadian Geese

Who would've thought I'd care for geese? As far as I remember, I only thought of them, when I did, as almost ugly, big birds that fill Long Island parking lots with poop.

With years of ups and downs in family, dating, frenemies, human resource catastrophe, intrusive thoughts and other mental concerns, I adapted well to COVD. Besides deaths, may God rest victims' souls and give strength to their families and friends, I enjoyed the quiet time.

I did well without my favorite things: the gym and sauna, theater, restaurants and museums. I substituted home workouts and walks for the gym. Intuition told me to go to a lake where I went with my father and uncle as a child one day and I started going often. I had no expectations but to walk, with music and Dave Ramsey on my cell phone.

I saw four duck pairs, turtles, fish and eventually two white herons and two blue-gray herons. On one of my first visits, or the first, I saw one goose. I guessed he was male and called him Mosely. I wondered inside and out loud where his mate was; unlike the ducks, he was one like I was. Days later, Mosely had a wife and five children. I was a bit jealous of his wife who had a family. I eventually called her Barbara. I had difficulty naming the children, not knowing if they were male or female and not wanting gender-neutral names like Cody. One grown girl, it seemed , who ate from my hand was called Psoma or Bread Man in Greek. It sounded cute. In two weeks the end of May and early June, the grew and their feathers went from down to grown brown and black colors. Their necks and faces started getting black, and white spots appeared on their head. Sigh. I cried inside they'd leave me. I thought they left one by one, and begged them not to do that.

I observed the family on the water; feeding on grass; pruning their feathers, even turning their necks all around; dipping themselves in the water; looking for food in mud; and taking naps, their under eyelids white.

One day I walked by them and fed them, continued to walk and job and when I returned, I saw a 9- and 11-year-old girls pestering them. I castigated myself that I did not tell them to stop loudly enough. The geese showed off their feathers and then headed to the lake. I counted four, not five, goslings and thought I saw someone with one in the corner of my eye. I was guilty it was my fault. The girls must have hurt them.

I returned that night and there were still four goslings.

It stayed that way for weeks.

Then there were three.

I called 311. I called Audubon. I emailed PETA. I put out questions on Quora. No one seemed to know. Did anyone get them and eat them? Did an angry teenager hurt them? Were there raccoons, coyotes or foxes at the park? I doubt that.

Last week, my Psoma was gone. I visited twice one day, and skipped the next. A day made a difference.

I put up signs. Nothing.

What I learned:

Animals in the wild, even more than pets or zoo animals, are totally themselves. Even in the cruelty of nature, (beyond a heron catching fish, I did not observe), they are in a smooth, wondrous dance. they do not want to impress you and they do not wonder what you think.  We can take lessons.

There is a line between possibility and wishful thinking Jogging at the park recently, I envisioned the three missing goslings flying over the tree tops to their family: probably wishful thinking.

I blame myself. When other goslings went missing, I could not really blame myself more for the first one's missing.

I cling. I cling to still have those weeks of peace walking, seeing my family unfold, wanting to be part of it, and somehow being part of it, although at times the geese seemed annoyed to see me. I cling and so does/did some family members at times I was in grammar school and the family relationships were more simple. Expectations, control  and vindictiveness had not set in yet. So stagnation and clutter are a result.

On one hand, things are sweet when you sweat, hunt and work for them. On the other, they are sweeter, and definitely more light when you do nothing and discover/receive beauty, a gift, love, new people and experiences...

In any case, I miss my geese and do not know when gratefulness for the unfolding of that family in my presence will be greater than pain and nostalgia.

Check out my books on www.Authorhouse.com or www.Amazon.com The Boy in a Wheelchair, Life, Work and Play and PocketGuide to Fitness and Musings on www.Lulu.com.