Xeia, is right about two things in particular which I would like to touch upon now...The first, of course, noting that 2 weeks is simply not enough time to formulate an opinion about someone or even a particular group...Although, I will be the first to admit that I do, indeed, tend to size up people rather quickly...The second aspect I would like to touch upon is this...a lot has changed over the past several years...and perhaps, one of the reasons I am so open to Xeia and her change in perspective is that I too have experienced a change in perspective...Hence, why I am open to and embrace her explorations and alternative points of view...
I too have struggled with certain realities in my own life that have led to questions, uncertainties and a very close, yet tumultuous relationship with God...
I would like to share some of these real experiences with the group in an effort to spark a debate...not gain answers, for I don't trust you will have them...and also to give you all some insight into the person I am, what I believe and stand for, and what questions I deal with on an ongoing basis...
I will also state, for the record, that I am a very secretive and private individual...When I choose to share, I do so on my own terms...and I have chosen to now simply because I have the cover of anonymity and the extra comfort that you are all thousands of miles away...
But...as I believe, everything happens for a reason...I will take a leap of faith and present to you different chapters of my story as a token of my appreciation to your input...
I was born in Cuba in 1971 to a farmer's daughter and a middle class entrepreneur...My father had been a factory owner and mosaic manufacturer up until the Revolution of 1959...After that, my father's company was confiscated by the nomenclatura; he became a worker in his own factory and this indignity led him to form an underground newspaper company in which he blasted the new regime...To his dismay, some of the neighborhood folk outed him for money and he got arrested and tried for treason...As a result he was sent to jail and I was sent to military school...You see, my mother did not want us to appear as dissidents of society; to her understanding, this was the best move to make...It wasn't until 1979 and President Carter, that my father was able to gain political asylum into Spain...I remember the day vividly...as the town folk threw eggs at us as we left our home...Gusanos! They yelled...Worms...we were worms...Free worms, I thought...ready to dig into different soil...
It was in Spain, where my relationship with GOD started...and we didn't get off to a good start...I was placed in a nunnery so that I may learn about God and Catholicism and everything else my parents thought was lacking in me as a child at the age of 10. I remember asking a lot of questions; the nuns were always irritated with me...they hit other obstinate children but never I...I quite didn't understand how or why my insolence was tolerated...until one night I found out, what it was they sensed about me...Father Eugenio was dying...
I ran to his room; I had felt so bad because he had been kind and tolerant of me...he had been patient...Now he lay dying and I felt alone and disposable. At first, the nuns would not let me into his room but I guess I was crying so uncontrollably that they just gave up and let me in...I saw him and a feeling of peace came over me...and out of nowhere, I commanded that all the window curtains be opened...The angels are here! I said...They will bring you peace and you will rest, I said...Do not cry, respect him, and wish him safe journey...
Just like that, he was gone...One of the nuns came over to me and said: child, what did you see? I saw nothing, but I know he is well and death was here and it is nothing to be afraid of...
Well...Let's just say the relationship between me and the nuns was somewhat strained after that but this was of no consequence...Shortly thereafter, my father and mother decided they would leave to the United States...Another chapter was about to be written...
I was 13 and on the way to an amusement park...My uncle was driving and my cousins where there with me when we were hit by a truck...The car spun, and my uncle died instantly...my cousins died in the hospital...I, one the other hand, fell into a coma which lasted almost 6 months...during this time, I developed an infection in the femur...Upon awakening from the coma doctors operated but the infection had taken hold and destroyed the bone which was simply removed...What was left now what a 12 inch scar and many questions...Many months of rehabilitation followed as I was not supposed to walk again...but, I eventually did...with a limp that is...
Why did the others die? Why am I here? Why did you let me live? Why did you make me this way? I was angry with God...I demanded answers...that only led to more questions...It became obvious to me that GOD wanted me here but he wanted me scared why? Was this GOD's sick sense of humor or did he simply want to teach me a lesson about arrogance and vanity?
As the years went by, I became very engrossed in issues of life and death, the afterlife, etc...I was blessed to have friends who would teach me or welcome me into their particular faith in an effort to help me find the answers I sought...I was also blessed with wonderful partners, lovers to never focused on my so-called handicap but me as a person and what I had to offer...Inhibitions, sure there were many...but I eventually overcame them...
Fast forward to 1991-92...I had gone to Spain to study languages and translation...I was in the court yard when a blind student approached me...I helped him find a seat and he asked to meet me...which meant he needed to feel the contours of my face...You are beautiful, he said...Your facial features are well defined and acute...but you feel ugly, don't you? I didn't argue...I simply went along, as I felt he knew something that I didn't even know about myself...I walk with a limp, I said...had an accident...I am blind, he said...I was born that way...Tell me, I said...why does GOD make you imperfect? Because he wants you to focus...because you are special and he wants you to concentrate on your job! Well, what is my job? Come with me into the library, he said...There is something I would like to show you...We walked across the courtyard into the cold building echoing with hundreds of years of history...He pulled out a Geography book and pointed to Mesopotamia...and said...You're job is here...Learn different tongues and walk with a slow gait...God wanted you to slow down...There is much he wants you to learn and he wants you to pay attention...
I didn't understand what Gustavo said but I looked for him again...as I was intrigued by his words and taken by his kindness...I asked around with my peers but nothing...even the registrar's office had never heard of him...No record of him at the University of Salamanca...I felt alone...
It is now 1993...I had been awarded a foreign language scholarship and an opportunity to study economics at the University of Jerusalem...My mother had begged that I call her each day...to make sure you are alive, she would say...Funny, I never felt, unsafe...and I never felt alone... A few unexplained events happened here as well...I will share those here...
I was working in the American Embassy in Tel Aviv...The bus I would take from my apartment in Haifa to work was blown up one sunny day...this made global headline news...But, I didn't take the bus to work that day...I had worked until 11 PM the night before and felt fatigued...Bodies fell unto porches on the main boulevard...the scene was horrific...but I was alive...I ran to a close by Egyptian Coptic Church, one of the last remaining in Israel....and I prayed...Rather I argued with God again...What do you want from me, I kept asking...You keep me from dying...yet you bring me close to death? Why? The Coptic church smelled of incense and stone...a preacher in a black robe and a cross tattooed in hand came close...He wondered why I was crying...Because I don't know why God wants me here, I said...Because I don't know what my purpose is...Ahhh, he said...the eternal question...I felt he was mocking me...I became angry and frustrated...I hated him at that moment...So, I fired back!!! What is your purpose, I said bluntly...Are you not aware you are going to die and soon? This frightened him...But yes, I did...I really did feel he was about to die! And in anger, in desperation, I blurted it out...But I was too self absorbed at the moment and simply watched him walk away and retreated into my own self pity...
More happened in Israel...more experiences...that I will keep to myself for now...because I want to talk to you about Turkey...
I was on vacation with a friend, yes a friend who took a liking to me but I did not reciprocate...We were walking in the souk or town market...A women approached me and called me a whore...She disliked my hair undone and exposed...She approached me and spat at my face...a man, another man...approached me in horror...and knelt...She speaks Ladino, he said...she claims you are the Devil...As if by instinct I approached the meat stand and asked for a knife...My friend watched in horror as I chopped off a piece of hair and walked to offer if to this distraught woman...I spoke and in Arabic I told her...I am sorry, I mean no disrespect, here...take my hair...do not be afraid....My friend Marc thought I was just as crazy as this woman...I told him no, that she was in pain...After I gave her a bit of my hair she smiled...Mark and I walked about our business but the old man followed me and said...You are not alone, the angels, they protect you! Thank You, I said...cried a little and walked away...
I escaped a sniper in Lebanon...I had a stranger offer me shelter in the Sahara...
I am at peace only when I help others...I am frustrated and misunderstood...I am jealous, commanding, nurturing...I can see death, understand it, know when it is imminent...I am passionate about reading but believe nothing...I love you but I do not trust you...I often feel I can heal you but am more satisfied destroying you...I believe God is with me, but why? I believe he has a purpose for me, but what? I believe there is a path I must follow but, how?
I see what eludes others, I understand things that confuse others...I hide behind my children because they are the only pure beings on this Earth that even if I feel misunderstood, accept me anyway...
As for men, I believe a man must make love to the mind, before he makes love to the woman...Just think...God has made me multi-orgasmic and yet I don't care for sex...In other words, I can have sex with a man and not love him...I can love a man and not have sex with him...I don't care either way...I want a man to intrigue me, to engage my curiosity, to understand my troubled mind...I don't want a man to tell me that I am beautiful...Though flattering, this too is not needed...
What I want is answers, what I seek is truth... in a man, I want loyalty and devotion and what I want is trust even though I can't trust you in return...
So, here is my story...one of dejection as I don't believe I belong here...but am stuck here...why or for how long is what I am trying to find out...
-M
I too have struggled with certain realities in my own life that have led to questions, uncertainties and a very close, yet tumultuous relationship with God...
I would like to share some of these real experiences with the group in an effort to spark a debate...not gain answers, for I don't trust you will have them...and also to give you all some insight into the person I am, what I believe and stand for, and what questions I deal with on an ongoing basis...
I will also state, for the record, that I am a very secretive and private individual...When I choose to share, I do so on my own terms...and I have chosen to now simply because I have the cover of anonymity and the extra comfort that you are all thousands of miles away...
But...as I believe, everything happens for a reason...I will take a leap of faith and present to you different chapters of my story as a token of my appreciation to your input...
I was born in Cuba in 1971 to a farmer's daughter and a middle class entrepreneur...My father had been a factory owner and mosaic manufacturer up until the Revolution of 1959...After that, my father's company was confiscated by the nomenclatura; he became a worker in his own factory and this indignity led him to form an underground newspaper company in which he blasted the new regime...To his dismay, some of the neighborhood folk outed him for money and he got arrested and tried for treason...As a result he was sent to jail and I was sent to military school...You see, my mother did not want us to appear as dissidents of society; to her understanding, this was the best move to make...It wasn't until 1979 and President Carter, that my father was able to gain political asylum into Spain...I remember the day vividly...as the town folk threw eggs at us as we left our home...Gusanos! They yelled...Worms...we were worms...Free worms, I thought...ready to dig into different soil...
It was in Spain, where my relationship with GOD started...and we didn't get off to a good start...I was placed in a nunnery so that I may learn about God and Catholicism and everything else my parents thought was lacking in me as a child at the age of 10. I remember asking a lot of questions; the nuns were always irritated with me...they hit other obstinate children but never I...I quite didn't understand how or why my insolence was tolerated...until one night I found out, what it was they sensed about me...Father Eugenio was dying...
I ran to his room; I had felt so bad because he had been kind and tolerant of me...he had been patient...Now he lay dying and I felt alone and disposable. At first, the nuns would not let me into his room but I guess I was crying so uncontrollably that they just gave up and let me in...I saw him and a feeling of peace came over me...and out of nowhere, I commanded that all the window curtains be opened...The angels are here! I said...They will bring you peace and you will rest, I said...Do not cry, respect him, and wish him safe journey...
Just like that, he was gone...One of the nuns came over to me and said: child, what did you see? I saw nothing, but I know he is well and death was here and it is nothing to be afraid of...
Well...Let's just say the relationship between me and the nuns was somewhat strained after that but this was of no consequence...Shortly thereafter, my father and mother decided they would leave to the United States...Another chapter was about to be written...
I was 13 and on the way to an amusement park...My uncle was driving and my cousins where there with me when we were hit by a truck...The car spun, and my uncle died instantly...my cousins died in the hospital...I, one the other hand, fell into a coma which lasted almost 6 months...during this time, I developed an infection in the femur...Upon awakening from the coma doctors operated but the infection had taken hold and destroyed the bone which was simply removed...What was left now what a 12 inch scar and many questions...Many months of rehabilitation followed as I was not supposed to walk again...but, I eventually did...with a limp that is...
Why did the others die? Why am I here? Why did you let me live? Why did you make me this way? I was angry with God...I demanded answers...that only led to more questions...It became obvious to me that GOD wanted me here but he wanted me scared why? Was this GOD's sick sense of humor or did he simply want to teach me a lesson about arrogance and vanity?
As the years went by, I became very engrossed in issues of life and death, the afterlife, etc...I was blessed to have friends who would teach me or welcome me into their particular faith in an effort to help me find the answers I sought...I was also blessed with wonderful partners, lovers to never focused on my so-called handicap but me as a person and what I had to offer...Inhibitions, sure there were many...but I eventually overcame them...
Fast forward to 1991-92...I had gone to Spain to study languages and translation...I was in the court yard when a blind student approached me...I helped him find a seat and he asked to meet me...which meant he needed to feel the contours of my face...You are beautiful, he said...Your facial features are well defined and acute...but you feel ugly, don't you? I didn't argue...I simply went along, as I felt he knew something that I didn't even know about myself...I walk with a limp, I said...had an accident...I am blind, he said...I was born that way...Tell me, I said...why does GOD make you imperfect? Because he wants you to focus...because you are special and he wants you to concentrate on your job! Well, what is my job? Come with me into the library, he said...There is something I would like to show you...We walked across the courtyard into the cold building echoing with hundreds of years of history...He pulled out a Geography book and pointed to Mesopotamia...and said...You're job is here...Learn different tongues and walk with a slow gait...God wanted you to slow down...There is much he wants you to learn and he wants you to pay attention...
I didn't understand what Gustavo said but I looked for him again...as I was intrigued by his words and taken by his kindness...I asked around with my peers but nothing...even the registrar's office had never heard of him...No record of him at the University of Salamanca...I felt alone...
It is now 1993...I had been awarded a foreign language scholarship and an opportunity to study economics at the University of Jerusalem...My mother had begged that I call her each day...to make sure you are alive, she would say...Funny, I never felt, unsafe...and I never felt alone... A few unexplained events happened here as well...I will share those here...
I was working in the American Embassy in Tel Aviv...The bus I would take from my apartment in Haifa to work was blown up one sunny day...this made global headline news...But, I didn't take the bus to work that day...I had worked until 11 PM the night before and felt fatigued...Bodies fell unto porches on the main boulevard...the scene was horrific...but I was alive...I ran to a close by Egyptian Coptic Church, one of the last remaining in Israel....and I prayed...Rather I argued with God again...What do you want from me, I kept asking...You keep me from dying...yet you bring me close to death? Why? The Coptic church smelled of incense and stone...a preacher in a black robe and a cross tattooed in hand came close...He wondered why I was crying...Because I don't know why God wants me here, I said...Because I don't know what my purpose is...Ahhh, he said...the eternal question...I felt he was mocking me...I became angry and frustrated...I hated him at that moment...So, I fired back!!! What is your purpose, I said bluntly...Are you not aware you are going to die and soon? This frightened him...But yes, I did...I really did feel he was about to die! And in anger, in desperation, I blurted it out...But I was too self absorbed at the moment and simply watched him walk away and retreated into my own self pity...
More happened in Israel...more experiences...that I will keep to myself for now...because I want to talk to you about Turkey...
I was on vacation with a friend, yes a friend who took a liking to me but I did not reciprocate...We were walking in the souk or town market...A women approached me and called me a whore...She disliked my hair undone and exposed...She approached me and spat at my face...a man, another man...approached me in horror...and knelt...She speaks Ladino, he said...she claims you are the Devil...As if by instinct I approached the meat stand and asked for a knife...My friend watched in horror as I chopped off a piece of hair and walked to offer if to this distraught woman...I spoke and in Arabic I told her...I am sorry, I mean no disrespect, here...take my hair...do not be afraid....My friend Marc thought I was just as crazy as this woman...I told him no, that she was in pain...After I gave her a bit of my hair she smiled...Mark and I walked about our business but the old man followed me and said...You are not alone, the angels, they protect you! Thank You, I said...cried a little and walked away...
I escaped a sniper in Lebanon...I had a stranger offer me shelter in the Sahara...
I am at peace only when I help others...I am frustrated and misunderstood...I am jealous, commanding, nurturing...I can see death, understand it, know when it is imminent...I am passionate about reading but believe nothing...I love you but I do not trust you...I often feel I can heal you but am more satisfied destroying you...I believe God is with me, but why? I believe he has a purpose for me, but what? I believe there is a path I must follow but, how?
I see what eludes others, I understand things that confuse others...I hide behind my children because they are the only pure beings on this Earth that even if I feel misunderstood, accept me anyway...
As for men, I believe a man must make love to the mind, before he makes love to the woman...Just think...God has made me multi-orgasmic and yet I don't care for sex...In other words, I can have sex with a man and not love him...I can love a man and not have sex with him...I don't care either way...I want a man to intrigue me, to engage my curiosity, to understand my troubled mind...I don't want a man to tell me that I am beautiful...Though flattering, this too is not needed...
What I want is answers, what I seek is truth... in a man, I want loyalty and devotion and what I want is trust even though I can't trust you in return...
So, here is my story...one of dejection as I don't believe I belong here...but am stuck here...why or for how long is what I am trying to find out...
-M
