Climbing mountains and slaying demons

At 1am on Saturday morning, I lay in bed, pretty certain I was going to bail on my plans to go hiking on the Appalachian Trail later that day.  In the quiet of night, all my fears were given room to rise to the surface - I was going to be alone in the wilderness, with mountains to climb, bears to eat me, potential murderers and, somehow, I was going to die while I slept.  Who in their right mind would be stupid enough to take a risk like that?  I eventually drifted off to sleep and woke to my alarm at 6.30am.  Sometime during my sleep, the fears had sunk down back into the depths of me and the day now looked promising.  I packed my last minute items, snuggled my little man and then tucked him in bed with grandma, hugged my big one, and headed out for a 2 hour drive to the North Georgia mountains.

I was calm as I drove in silence.  The music I usually love to listen to whilst driving was silenced, as I listened to my own thoughts.  The sun rose as I drove north and I watched the world wake around me.  Before I knew it, I had pulled into Woody Gap parking lot and could see my shuttle driver looking for me.  I pulled up and Sally confirmed who I was, then showed me where I could leave my car.  I locked the car, threw my breakfast leftovers into a bear bin, used the restroom, dropped my backpack and trekking poles in the trunk and hopped into Sally's car.

Hog Pen Gap - where it begins!

Sally was a joy!  She stopped by a viewing overlook and took a photo of me "pre-hike" with the beautiful Georgia fall colors in the background.  She was easy going and a joy to chat with, as she drove me 40 minutes north to my starting point.  As I strapped my pack on, she gave me a hug, directed me to the entrance to the trail, and wished me luck!  I crossed the road, took a photo of the elevation sign, and took my first steps on to the Appalachian Trail.

My first white blaze!

Within a minute or two, I spotted my first "white blaze" - the official marker along the length of the entire Appalachian Trail.  I stopped, snapped a pic, and a huge grin broke out on my face!  I was really on the Appalachian Trail! This was actually happening!  With a spring in my step, I headed up the hill and started my hike.  At the top of the hill, less than a mile into the hike, I took a left onto a side trail that leads to Whitley Gap Shelter - the guides I had read told me there was a breathtaking view from the halfway point.  I walked along the narrow path, with thick shrubs on both sides, and wondered if I should even carry on - it was adding another mile round trip onto my already projected 9 miles for the day and it was dark in there, like a tunnel.  As I was about to turn around, I saw a bright spot ahead.  I walked up and found a rock outcrop and, looking up, saw the most breathtaking view.

The breathtaking view from the trail to Whitley Gap Shelter

The sun shining across mountains and valleys with trees in every range of yellow, orange, red, and green you can imagine, and complete silence.  There were two women sitting on the rock to my left and they said something to me.  I opened my mouth to speak and choked up instead, I couldn't even speak.  One of the women said she's had the exact same reaction her first time out there, and that it was pretty normal to get overwhelmed by the beauty.  I stood and soaked it in for a few minutes, had a chat with the women, then turned back towards the AT.  I heard someone coming up behind me, and stood aside to let them by.  It was a rather large, unkempt gentleman with a backpack twice the size of mine, substantial facial hair and a very determined stride.  He didn't break stride as he wished me good morning and asked whether I was headed north or south. I got on the trail behind him, and told him I was going south, and he told me he was headed north and then rolled off a list of trails, towns, cities and countries he had hiked and where he was going next.  Then, just like that, he was gone!  I had my first encounter with a true hiker.  No sooner had his hulking form disappeared, I heard a clanging sound approaching me from behind.  I once again stepped aside as three men and a woman passed me, all laden down with large packs, one with a couple of pots hanging (and clanging) off the outside, and the same look of determination on their faces as the first man.  They bade me good morning, and asked which direction I was heading.  (Do you see a pattern emerging here?).  I told them I was heading to Neels Gap, and they said they were too and they would probably see me later.  

I returned to the trail intersection and headed south.  It was pleasant, the weather was a perfect sunny 68 degrees, and the trail was mostly downhill.  I absorbed it all - the forest sounds, the birds, the squirrels and chipmunks, the amazing colors of the changing leaves, and even wondered if I might see a bear.  I made sure to walk noisily just in case, which wasn't difficult since the trail was covered in dry leaves, and my hiking poles clacked as I walked.  When I approached an area that seemed more secluded or where the trees/scrub was thicker, I sang (although - oddly - I found, on several occasions, that I couldn't remember the words to some of my favorite songs).  A little way down the trail, I came up on a large group of young adults/late teens.  I stopped to chat, exchanged good mornings, and direction intentions.  They were college students from Toccoa College and they were also heading to Neels Gap.  I bid them good luck and carried on.  

At this point, I was absolutely in my element and completely happy and content.  I was in the mountain wilderness of Georgia, alone, but also had a group of 4 hikers ahead of me, and a group of 10 behind me, all heading to the same place.  As I approached a rock clearing about 2 hours in, I ran into the group of 4 again.  I sat down and immediately one of the 4 offered me some of his beef jerky.  I declined, and offered him half of my now completely flattened sub.  We chatted and ate, and took in the amazing view.  I actually got phone service there, and managed to call mum and the boys and update them on my morning, and my safety.  I'm sure Mum was very relieved to know I had two groups sandwiching me on my solo journey.  As my new friends and I packed up, took a couple more photos of the view, and donned our packs, the college group came up and sat down to eat.  They were asking me about hiking alone, and where I was from, and other stuff, so my friends (who I knew now were from Tallahassee) went ahead and I stayed behind chatting for a while.  I told the college group about the concerns I had had before I started out, and they reassured me that they would be behind me all the way to Neels Gap and not to worry (although by that time I wasn't really worried any more).

A little while later, I came around a bend and saw 3 of my 4 Florida friends up ahead on the trail.  As I approached, I could see the 4th person was down a side trail to the right, refilling everyone's water bottles from a spring, through his hand pumped filter.  I lay my pack down and he quickly took my water bottles and filled them too.  Again we sat and talked a while and then, confidence at a high, I continued ahead of them.  It didn't last for long.  The descent into Tesnatee Gap was so steep that I stopped at the bottom, just trying to let my jelly legs stop shaking, and trying to figure out where the trail reentered the woods across the parking lot.  As I stood there, they caught up to me and we figured it out.  I never did see the college group again, but I caught up to the Florida group several times, and the beef jerky guy even hung back and hiked with me a couple of times, letting his friends go ahead. At some point in the day, between sweaty, panting uphills, and jelly legged downhills, we met again.  Florida surfer dude once again lagged behind to walk with me, by which time he had dubbed me "tortoise" (guess I got my trail name).

I walked, I listened to the forest, I basked in the beauty of the amazing fall colors, I stopped and ate, or got water, and I didn't even keep track of the time.  As I walked, I saw a weird building down an embankment to my right, then a brick building peeking out between the trees ahead of me.  I was disoriented for a minute, until I realized I'd made it to my destination - Mountain Crossings at Walasi-Yi at Neels Gap!  I was so excited!  I had originally planned this hike to come through Mountain Crossings, as the AT goes right through the buildings, and it has a hostel with bunk beds, which I thought I could use if my fear of camping alone got the better of me.  

The AT runs through Walasi-Yi

I had heard of this place many times over the last few months - it's famous in the world of AT hikers.  Walasi-Yi is the first major stop for all northbound thru-hikers (hikers going from Georgia to Maine in one 4-6 month long hike) and all of the staff have thru-hiked the AT at least once.  Here, thru-hikers stop and get a bunk and warm food, but also a shake down of their pack.  This basically means they have had long enough on the trail to see how it feels to hike with 30-50 lbs on their backs, and they have tested their hiking shoes/boots, and a staff member goes through their belongings with them and they weed out all of the unneeded items to decrease the pack weight.  They also dump any shoes that were no good on the trail, and buy new, better ones at the shop at Mountain Crossings.  They can then leave the excess items in a "hiker box" for other hikers who may need something, or they can box it up and ship it to their home.  The shoes... for some... get thrown up into the shoe tree.  

The "shoe tree" at Walasi-Yi

I had been told I would run into some great people here, I was hoping to run into some Southbound thru-hikers here (SOBOs), and I was, of course, hoping to catch up with my Florida friends here.  Sadly, I ran into none of the above, and even the college group behind me didn't show up at any point while I was there.

I had a look around the store, chatted with and got some advice from the staff, and I was thankful to find cold Coke and moleskin blister tape.  I unloaded my pack, sat down, enjoyed the views and a few chats, and pondered what to do now.  The only campground was a small patch of grass on a slope very close to the parking lot, and I did not want to camp there alone (the general guidelines out there state to not camp within a mile of a road/trailhead for safety reasons).  I was in a predicament.  By this time I had decided I did NOT want a bunk in the hostel, but camping at Mountain Crossings wasn't an option either.  I went inside and asked one of the staff if there were campsites between there and the summit of Blood Mountain (2.1 miles away).  Talking to him, I learned that there is no camping between Neels Gap and Blood Mountain Summit, nor is there any water.  The trail to the summit is made up of STEEP rocky inclines and there is no campground at the top, only at the bottom of the other side at Slaughter Creek.  It was 4.12pm. I had hiked for six hours and nine miles, I was exhausted, my calves felt like cannonballs, my thighs were on fire, I had three hours til dark, and a huge decision to make - alone.

So, I did what any crazy person would do, and made the decision to at least get to the summit of Blood Mountain! 

Blood Mountain 2.1 miles

I downed my Coke, used the restroom, put my pack back on and crossed the road to re-enter the AT and head to Blood Mountain.  The first half hour, although all uphill, was not too bad, relatively speaking.  The next 2 1/2 hours were absolute torture!  There's a standing joke that the trail managers who created and maintain the AT purposely chose the most difficult path possible, and routed the AT up and over every possible mountain, and never choosing the easiest route.  Halfway up Blood Mountain, I rounded a corner, saw nothing but giant boulders, looked again, and saw the white blaze, at which point I realized that the trail creators have indeed got a very sick sense of humor.  

White blazes on rocks

My thoughts were "THAT is the trail?", "I have to get over/around/through THAT?"  This happened over and over, but with breaks every 20 footsteps or so, I plodded on.  A couple of times I plopped down on a step or a rock, crying, telling myself I was done, before pulling myself together and hyping myself up to carry on.  I had no option but to get to the top before the sun went down, or I would be sleeping, tentless, in the middle of the trail, in a wilderness filled with bears.  If that's not motivation, I don't know what is.

Blood Mountain is a popular day visit location, so many people were passing me going down the mountain.  Every one of them asked where I was headed, and told me I was almost there.  One person would tell me I was maybe 15 minutes from the top, then the next person - 5 minutes later - would tell me I was almost there, only about 20 minutes to the top.  It was so disheartening.  Then, when I didn't think it could get any worse, I turned a corner and saw something that made my heart drop. 

Seriously?

I had to get up THERE, with the equivalent of a three year child on my back, no remaining energy, and legs like jelly? Ha! At this point I cussed every trail manager that ever had any part of creating the AT, until I ran out of cuss words and tears and, on all fours, painfully slowly crawled up this gigantic slice of mountain.  I kept myself going with the promise that this would mean I was at the top, and done!  I eventually made it up there, saw a few people sitting around and asked if this was the summit.  No, about 5 more minutes up.  You have got to be kidding me.  This was turning out to be the longest 2.1 miles I have ever walked in my life.  The next big flat area I found, I knew was the top.  People were sitting all over, watching the sun setting over the mountains.  I dropped my pack, sat down on the rock, and watched the sunset while I cried (seeing another pattern here?).  Someone asked me how far I'd come and where I was headed.  I told them I was headed here, to the summit, to SLEEP!  They looked at me with pity and said "sorry, but this isn't the summit, it's up there".  Noooo!!!!!  

I reluctantly put my pack back on and trudged up the rock, to the NEXT piece of rock and, boom, there was my summit.  I dropped my pack and just stood in awe as the sun started to disappear.  I will never forget how I felt at that moment, there aren't words.

Sunset from Blood Mountain summit - everything that came the following day was worth it, for this.

I felt like I was on top of the world, in more ways than one.  With an elevation of 4,459 ft, Blood Mountain stood proud in the middle of the mountains, looking down on them all.  It was breathtaking to look out and see only sky and clouds, yet down to see mountains.  I finally pulled myself together and spent 5 more minutes looking for a campsite, before I returned to the middle of the summit, and dropped my pack.  Yes, I was going to camp right there and I didn't care.  The sun was going down fast, so I got my tent up while my water boiled, changed into dry clothes, ate my dinner, drank some hot chocolate, hung my bear bag, and was in my sleeping bag before 8pm.  I didn't even realize how early it was until I got in my bag and got my phone out to recharge it!  I slept like a baby for the most part.  It was REALLY windy up there, which woke me a bunch of times, as well as waking up hot, but I didn't feel scared when I woke, which was awesome.  Of course, there were a lot of other people camping up there too, so I was pretty much surrounded by other hikers, which gave me a sense of security.  What a day that was!

Sunday morning, I was woken by the sound of voices right outside my tent.  I thought to myself "why would they decide to stand right by my head to have this conversation?", so I peeked out and it was a young couple, standing on a rock near me.  The apologized for waking me, but... and looked up.  I tried to climb out of my tent, but my legs wouldn't hold me, so I crawled/fell sideways onto the ground, stumbled up onto my doe legs, and inched over to them and turned to see where they were looking.  

Sunrise from Blood Mountain summit

The sun was JUST coming up.  The clouds had settled in the night, and were now below us, with mountain tops peeking through the tops of them.  The sun was glowing over it all, lighting up the areas between clouds like magic, and some other clouds continued to move down and across the mountain, so we were literally IN the clouds, touching them!  That was a really cool moment, realizing this wasn't smoke from a fire somewhere, but clouds moving around and past me!  

I put some water on to boil, made it down to the privy (hole in the ground with some wood paneling around it - a primitive toilet of sorts, and came back to watch the sun rise completely.  The guys camped next to me were already packed up and leaving, so I had one of them take my picture before they left.  Then I ate my breakfast and snuggled back in my bag with my cup of tea, relaxing until it was time to pack up.

My whole body hurt so bad, I could barely walk, and I had no idea how I was going to walk with my pack too, but I had no other options, so I loaded up and headed down the south face of Blood Mountain.  Thankfully, the south face is a lot less steep than the north, so it wasn't too bad of a descent.  

Slaughter Creek spring

Slaughter Creek campground area was really pretty, and I refilled my water bottles there from a flowing spring.  I ran into other hikers around every 30 minutes or so for a while.  The conversations were very similar.  "How are you doing?  Where are you coming from?  Where are you headed to?  How's water up ahead?  Enjoy your day! Happy hiking!"  Hikers are generally a bunch of really friendly people!  Then there came a spell when I didn't see anyone else for a couple of hours.  It became monotonous.  This stretch from Slaughter Creek to Big Cedar Mountain is beautiful, serene, rolling terrain with lots of squirrels, chipmunks and beautiful birds and flowers, and lots of trees (not many views though).  On another day, without a pack, I would have LOVED this hike.  However, on this day, I was exhausted and hurting, with blisters on my feet and painful toenails from the downhills, my pack wouldn't stay where I put it and was chafing my collarbones and hurting my hips, and the pack was also even heavier than the prior day because the tent, fly and footprint were now all wet and wrapped up in there.  

I took several breaks, just to rest, to eat, to take off my shoes and pour cold water over my achy feet.  Getting back up each time was a challenge, but I was so eager to get to my car and be done, that I had to keep going.  Those penultimate 3-4 miles took me about 4 hours.  I literally had to force myself to put one foot JUST in front of the other, count 50 or 100 steps, stop, drink some water, continue.  I was singing to myself "every day I'm shuffling, shuffling" and telling myself that even shuffling was moving, and that at least I was going forward.  Every time I saw a gentle downhill ahead, I got a second wind, picked up my trekking poles and picked up the speed.  Then I would see an uphill, and back to shuffling. 

The only view for miles on this stretch

At one point, I was glad to finally find a break in the trees and a nice view, and even happier when I realized I FINALLY had cell service there and could call home for the first time that day.

I started running into other hikers again mid afternoon.  I asked them all the same question "Did you come from Woody Gap?  How far is it?"  I got varying answers... "Oh, about half an hour back", "Oh, just a couple more miles", "Hmm, I think about a mile".  Despite several guesses from others, and two AT guides of my own, I still really had no idea how fast I was moving (probably averaging less than a mile an hour) and how far Woody Gap was.  My goal was to make it to the summit of Big Cedar Mountain, where I could rest, take off my shoes, and know with relief that my car was only 1.5 miles away down an incline.  I did start to notice that there were a steady increase in uphills, so I knew I was ON Big Cedar's ascent, but no idea how far up.  If I could have traded a pound of flesh for a ride out of there at that point, I would have gladly given it.  I was done, so very done.  I hurt everywhere, and I was so tired, I hated the trail, I hated these boots, I hated myself for doing this to myself.  

1, 2, 3, 4, 5... count to 50, stop, drink, breathe... 1, 2, 3, 4, 5... then a young couple came bounding around a corner and beamed at me "Oh, you're almost there, it's right around the bend and so worth it" and, mercifully, this time they were right!

View from the summit of Big Cedar Mountain

I crept to an area of rock shaped like a seat and dropped my pack, tore off my shoes and socks and downed half a liter of water.  The teenage girls nearby came over and asked where I had come from.  We chatted a while, then a family came over and asked if I would mind taking their photo.  A group of very loud German men talked to my right, and a couple further down nearer the edge argued about whether his mom really likes her or is faking it, and I just sat there, grinning, thinking "My car is only a mile and a half away from here".  Knowing that, I relaxed, laid back and used my tent ground sheet as a pillow, then ate, and put new bandaids on my blisters.  It was 3.30pm and, knowing I'd be going downhill, I guessed I'd be in my car by 4.30pm.  So I packed up, and got back on the trail.  As I started out, another group came towards me up the trail, and warned me to be careful on the way down, and I soon saw why.  The first 1/2 mile or so was REALLY steep, with a lot of rock ledges/steps.  With jelly legs and a heavy pack, I was thankful for the 100th time this weekend, for my trekking poles to balance me.  They saved my butt so many times!  So, I walked, gently uphill, gently down, around another bend, still shuffling, listening for cars that would let me know I was getting near the road.  

Suddenly, I started seeing a lot more people, mostly people out for the day, with no packs, with their kids, with their dogs (dogs really like you when you're dirty and stinky btw, kids not so much), and I could now hear cars.  I almost sprinted the rest of the way, despite the pain.  I was beyond happy to find the sign that told me I was at Woody Gap and, once I took a photo and passed it, I saw my car in the lot ahead.  What a relief.  I dropped my pack in the car, changed into other shoes, and plodded across the street to where I started.  I ran into a couple I'd seen on my way to the top of Big Cedar and they both grinned and said "you made it!!!" and I start crying (again) and said "Yes! I did!".  I stood there for a few minutes, overlooking Woody Gap, and letting it sink it.  I did it, I really did it.  

Would I do it again?  An hour before finishing, I'd have said no way, never!  Now, I'm thinking about which section is next.  You can call me a sucker for punishment, I'll call myself "tortoise". :)

Woody Gap sign

~ LOVE ALL ~ SERVE ALL ~ CREATE NO SORROW ~

I became a Christian eleven years ago, on November 14th 2004 at 7.45am, after 29 years of being atheist/agnostic.

I have been on a journey the last few years, finding out who I am, learning what I love, what I enjoy, what I will and will not tolerate, and what my personal truths are.  This morning, after a long, personal internal battle, I acknowledged to myself that I am, once again, agnostic.

(It was a long journey because, despite my waning faith and increasing doubts, I've been scared to admit, even to myself, that I am once again agnostic, just in case God is real and my admission ticks Him off.  Although, if He is real, and omniscient, then He already knows, right?)

Why?

Because...

I have lost any faith I had in the power of prayer.  I could go into a lot of detail here, but the bottom line is this:  Either (a) prayers are not heard, or (b) praying IS heard and God answers some prayers and not others on a totally random basis, without any reasoning.  If prayer works, why have thousands of prayers over thousands of years, not yet provided rain or food in Africa, so children can stop dying from something as simple as starvation?  Yes, I've seen prayers answered, I've also seen prayers unanswered, and positive outcomes without any prayers at all.

I have lost any conviction that God (the God of Christianity) exists.  After many years of relying on my "faith" to believe in unproven truths, logic has won out.  Continuing to struggle to have faith in something you increasingly have no concrete reason to believe in, is a pointless activity.

I have been studying Hinduism as a possible alternative to Christianity. Ultimately I have found that it provides no more enlightenment than Christianity. As Hinduism is a polytheistic religion, it only compounds the idea of whether God exists, by providing multiple gods to worship.  I can definitely see why millions of believe follow this religion though - Mother Kali and Lord Shiva seem a lot more realistic, reachable, and personable than a God who, although omnipresent, cannot be defined or seen.

I no longer have confidence in what I believed.  From the beginning, seeds of doubt about Heaven, and what happens to us when we die, were present.  More and more, when I am asked (by my kids or otherwise) about what happens when we die, what Heaven is like, what praying does, or similar questions, I find myself mumbling "I'm not really sure" and changing the subject.  I am not really sure - that's the absolute truth.  If I cannot confidently answer my child, with full conviction in what I'm telling him, then my answer is as good as a lie.

I no longer believe the Holy Bible is the infallible word of God.  As a Christian, you are expected to accept that the Holy Bible is the infallible word of God.  You may not pick and choose what you believe but, instead, accept it all - as God's word.  I find it hard to accept a "holy" book that condemns homosexuals (Leviticus 18:22), tattoos (Leviticus 19:28) and women speaking in church (1 Corinthians 14:34), but condones polygamy (pretty much every book in the OT), infanticide (Psalm 137:9, Exodus 12:29), slavery (Exodus, Galatians, Colossians, Peter, Titus), and genocide (Deuteronomy 3:4-6).  I am also disillusioned by the number of "Christians" who do opt to pick and choose the parts of the Bible that they believe in.

I don't need Christianity to have morals.   I treat people how I would like to be treated.  I help others less fortunate than me if I am able.  I feed the homeless.  I rescue injured animals.  I try to make other people happy.  I try not to hurt people's feelings.  I did these things before I was a Christian, while I was a Christian, and will continue to do these things as long as I am alive and able. Not because my religion directs me to do them, but because they are the right thing to do, regardless of religion. 

God gets all the credit for the good stuff, but none of the blame for the bad stuff.  I have been noticing that certain things that I once accepted as the truth, now really annoy me.  For example, a friend recently posted on social media that her child is doing much better in school this year, compared to last year.  A comment was made on this achievement "to God be the glory".  Really?  This child has worked her butt off for months - mentally, emotionally and physically - to overcome whatever held her back last year - and you're going to don't blow her off and give God all her credit?  No!  She did the work, praise HER for rising up and doing what she needed to do!

On the flip side, how often is God blamed for the bad stuff?  War. Murder. Child abuse. Animal abuse. Tsunamis. Hurricanes. Floods. Rape. Starvation. Homelessness. Car wrecks. Plane crashes. Watch the news any given day and you will see one or more of these covered in the daily stories.  Nobody blames God (except Pat Robertson and we all know he's going to Hell anyway).  However, you may hear the occasional story of the little girl who was abducted and found BEFORE she was raped and murdered, and the relatives are all over the news, praising God for her safe return.  What about the 27 other little girls the guy took who were not returned?  Were they not worthy of God's rescue?

In conclusion, I cannot say that a God or many Gods exist.  I cannot say that He doesn't/they don't.  I will not judge a person because they do believe, as I have never judged a person because they did not believe.  If a friend asks for prayers, I will pray for them.  If a friend asks for healing vibes, likewise I will ask the universe to send healing vibes.  If a friend asks for me to think or speak good things towards them, I will.  If I can give what a friend requests, and do it with my whole heart, in love, then I will.

W Somerset Maugham said "the fact that a great many people believe something is no guarantee of it's truth".  I would suggest, likewise, that the fact that a great many people do not believe something is no guarantee of it's untruth. The only guarantee for me is that, by living according to seven simple words, I can make the world a better place.  Those words are:

~ LOVE ALL ~ SERVE ALL ~ CREATE NO SORROW ~

 Acknowledgement:  "Love all, serve all, create no sorrow" are lyrics taken from Trevor Hall's song "Unity" which you can hear at this link -  Trevor Hall - Unity (with lyrics)

3 minutes

"Homosexuality is no different to bestiality, next thing you know it will be legal for people to marry animals".

"Homesexuality is an abomination".

"There's a special place in Hell for homosexuals".

"I'm not judging, I'm just telling you what God's word says".

"The Bible is about Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve".

"The Supreme Court is taking this country straight to Hell".

"If any of you reading this are okay with this whole gay thing going on, unfriend me now".

"Absolutely disgusting!"

These are all actual quotes I've seen flying around on my Facebook news feed since the Supreme Court's historic decision to allow same sex couples to marry.  These people actually took the time out to post something negative and judgmental about a topic that, although they dislike it, has ZERO impact on their life or well being.

There are several random things that cross my mind when I think about what I'm seeing.

1)  This country is a democracy, not a theocracy.  The laws are made by the government, NOT one religious group. 

2)  As a Christian you are, by definition, a "follower of Christ".  The Jesus Christ in my Bible teaches about loving one another, loving your neighbor as yourself, helping others. He does not teach us to condemn or to judge.  That is God's job. (Of course, if you are any religion other than Christian, point 2 is invalid anyway).

3)  Many of us supporting the Supreme Court's decision are not gay, but have friends or family who are, or (gasp) just think all humans on this planet should have equal civil rights.

4)  Jehovah's Witnesses won't have blood transfusions because of their religion, but they aren't up in arms because other people are legally allowed to have them.  Muslims don't eat pork, but they aren't trying to make it illegal for anyone else to eat pork.  Jewish people don't celebrate Christmas, but they aren't out there yelling foul because other people can celebrate it.  Why is it okay for Christians to condemn gay marriage, because they don't think it's okay?

5)  If you personally don't like chocolate, don't eat it.  Likewise, if you personally don't like gay marriage, don't marry someone of the same sex. 

Bottom line is this, people - all people - of all colors, races, backgrounds, religions, all deserve the same basic human/civil rights as each other.  Why would any person with a good heart want anything less for their fellow man?  For their friends?  For their children?

Here's the thing...  It took the above people maybe 3 minutes to write the things they wrote, in anger, or disgust.

In those 3 minutes...

* approximately 5-6 gay teenagers committed suicide because they've seen and heard what an abomination they are, how disgusting they are, and how they are going to Hell anyway.

*  approximately 30 children and babies in Africa died of starvation.

* almost 800,000 homeless people sat on the streets hoping to eat today, just in the USA.

* over 107,000 of those homeless are US veterans.

* 1.5 people were physically/sexually assaulted by their domestic partner.

So the next time you want to spend 3 minutes doing something "Christian", maybe you could go feed a homeless person, or volunteer at a battered women's shelter, or watch this video and pray for the families left behind: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vISl9w6tKgo

Do you remember?

Do you remember?  

Do you remember me, the way I remember you?

When a leaf blows past your face, do you remember the walks we took in the autumn wind?

When you get muddy feet, do you remember camping in the rain?

When you see the ocean, glistening in the sun, are you reminded of splashing in the surf, eating ice cream on the wall, or long nights in each other’s arms by the seaside?

When you hear our music, do you remember lazy days in bed, nothing but junk food and vinyl?

When you look in the mirror, do you see a map on your brow, or remember the way my kisses fit perfectly between your nose and your cheek?

When you drive down a narrow road, do you remember our Sunday drives, music and conversations, dreams of our future?

When you smell fuchsias, do you remember a million walks down the garden path?

When things are rough, and you feel alone, do you remember when it was us against the world?  When we had each other, and that was all we would ever need?

Do you remember the plans we made, the children we would have, the lives we would live?

I remember all this and more.  So much more.

Your face is imprinted on my mind.

I speak your name silently ten times a day.

My body yearns to be enveloped in your arms, where I always felt so safe.

My inner thoughts call out, wanting to reveal themselves to you.

My tears fall into my lap, without you to wipe them away.

I whisper my words to you, my desires, my needs, my hopes and my dreams.

Across all the miles and all the years, my soul still calls to yours. 

Do you remember me?

A Life of Euphoria

A Life of Euphoria

by Tina Barnes

Do you know that feeling when you wake up and, for a split second, all is right with the world?  You are euphoric… you stretch, relax your body, bury your head deeper into your pillow, pull the blankets up around your face, smile and let out a sigh.  Hmmm, it feels great!

Then, like an obnoxious alarm clock, the dam bursts open and out gush all of the anxieties and worries of the world that lives on your shoulders.  The moment of bliss is gone, replaced with a thousand simultaneous “musts”:  must pay that bill, must meet that deadline at work, must finish that school science project, must do laundry, must buy stamps at the post office, must figure out what’s for dinner tonight, must, must, must!  

And so, another day begins.  You rush to make breakfast and get your kids to school looking half awake.  You run the gauntlet on the road, avoiding near misses all the way to work.  By the time to get to work, your knuckles are white, and your blood pressure is through the roof.  You spend 8, 9, 10 hours at work, stressing over deadlines, fixing problems, dealing with irate customers, all on behalf of your corporate employer who reaps the profits, while you go home with a paycheck that’s spent before it touches your fingertips.  You narrowly escape death sixteen separate times on the drive home, whilst your thoughts bounce back and forth between “what in the world am I going to make for dinner?” and “how in the heck did these people EVER get a driver’s license?”.  You make it through dinner (“Pork chops AGAIN, Mom?”), help with homework and the science project and, if you’re lucky, have  enough time left to just enjoy your kids, before it’s bath and bed time.  The kids tucked up in bed, you go downstairs and get back to all the work emails and text messages you didn’t get a chance to respond to earlier, clean up the dinner dishes, feed the dogs, straighten up the living area, get the backpacks ready for tomorrow, and collapse in an exhausted heap on the couch, where you are woken 5.5 hours later by a stream of dribble running from the corner of your mouth.  You slurp it up, drag yourself to bed (vowing to shower in the morning), and go back to sleep for 5 minutes before the alarm goes off.

And then you do it again the next day… and the next… and the next.

I don’t know about you, but I find it hard to believe that this is the life we are supposed to live.  I’m not saying we have miserable, discontent lives.  Most of us thoroughly enjoy time with our kids, doing something we love, going to our favorite places, or reading our favorite books.  However, step back and look at the bigger picture.  Overall, the majority of us are living day to day like robots, doing all the things that mainstream society says we SHOULD be doing, and spending a very small portion of our lives actually LIVING - doing what we love, what moves us, what fulfills us, what makes us euphoric.

Here’s a thought.  What if that moment of euphoria we feel upon waking is how we are supposed to live?  What if we unknowingly snuff the joy out every morning, smothering it with the “musts” and “need to"s.  We spend a split second per day in perfect, complete, all-encompassing JOY and 23 hours, 59 minutes and 59 seconds doing what society says we are “supposed to”.  Instead of snuffing out that momentary flicker of joy, wouldn’t it be better to fan that small flame into a roaring, glorious fire that fills our senses, our minds and our souls with unabridged joy and happiness?  

Step back and look at your bigger picture.  Is this the life you want?  Is this the life you expected, when you were young and innocent and full of expectant wonder?  Are you satisfied that you are following your dreams, and your deathbed thoughts will not be filled with “what ifs” and “if onlys”?  Is this the life you want to teach your kids to expect and be happy with?  Are you okay with “settling” with existence in this daily rut?

The more time that passes, the more I realize that, although I have all the things I need to make it through life – a house, a vehicle, food, an income – my life is not euphoric.  Yes, I enjoy my children, I enjoy my family, my friends, my hobbies, my vacations, but overall there are a lot less euphoric moments than I would like there to be.  I don’t have the answer (I hope you weren’t expecting one), but I know that becoming conscious of our limited time on this earth, becoming aware that every moment counts, and that the cliché is true – you only live once - can be the first steps on a path to making changes TOWARDS a life of euphoria.  I am learning (finally, at 40) that I would rather live with less “stuff” and more “moments”, less housework and more exploring.  I would rather work less hours, and earn less money, in exchange for more time with my kids and doing things that awaken my soul.

Our lives won’t change overnight, but we can start taking baby steps towards a place where the moments of sheer joy will eventually outnumber the moments of monotony.  I can’t wait.  Because I don’t believe this is all there is. I believe we were made to live a life of euphoria.  

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