Up all night birthing a goat

At morning’s first light–before a busy day–slowly scrolling down the Facebook home page.

Marvelling at the differences in friends, family and acquaintances.  Marvelling that I’m not feeling irritated at the differences this morning–that the mind is not judging, sorting, categorizing as it loves to do.

Instead, look at the sparks of God!

This one ponders if she’ll be up all night birthing a goat.

 A week-old baby goat. OK, I didn't help birth it.

A week-old baby goat. OK, I didn’t help birth it.

This one hates President Obama.

This one loves President Obama.

This one wants to fight, ahhhh, she’s raring to fight today, against those who believe differently.  You’d better believe her way, the right way.  How often I’ve sat in her righteous shoes.   Oh, sister, don’t we think we know, until we don’t know a darn thing anymore except it’s a shifting kaleidoscope world we can’t control or understand, even though we try so hard every day, don’t we?

This one, oh divine friend, posts about love, awareness, spirituality, light, love, awareness, spirituality, love, awareness, spirituality, light…  How I adore these posts.  They inspire.  And some days they feel like too much light shining through, like you need some clouds, some rain, some mud, anything, before the eyes blind in so much brightness.

Yet, without the brightness, we’ll shrivel up and die in the cold, won’t we?  How I love thee, divine friend.



This one posts, oh I remember her as a child stringing daisy chains, and now she’s a beloved go-getting mama of the town, and she posts positive inspiration and pictures of wide-eyed innocent kitty cats and sometimes chastises those who get negative, darn those negative souls, why must they spoil a perfectly golden day?  (Oh, how I’ve felt the same way, the very same way, haven’t you?)

This one–someone I remember from her elementary years–someone always easily misunderstood or assimilated– posts her frustration, her anger, her despair.  It hurts when I read her statuses.  One wants to turn away, or help, or heal, but instead I’ve learned to sit with her and feel the pain.  Sometimes.  When I’m strong enough.

Sometimes I’m even strong enough to sit with my own pain.  Perhaps pain isn’t even personal.  It’s just a friend we need to learn to accept, to meet, to welcome into our snowy days, to allow her knocks at our front door.

A friend who teaches how to honor the human AND the divine.  How she laughs...

A friend who teaches how to honor the human AND the divine. How she laughs…

This one, oh youngster, posts, “Click within 10 seconds if you love your mother”.  I ponder hiding his offerings.  But I love my mother, so I think of her and click in my heart.

My god-daughter–whom I hardly know, whom I’ve probably completely failed as a godmother–posts, “I have a secret.”  What secret have you, fair child, fair woman?  Can we almost guess?

This one posts photos of his vacation in Mexico.  My mind vacillates between envy and delight.  This one posts photos of flowers blooming.  The snow-despairing mind both despairs and delights.

This one posts photos of her children.  I miss my children.  I love that they’re out in the world, beyond the shores of the Great Lakes.  I miss them, I love them, I miss them, I love them, I delight in their daisy-chain lives spiralling out on both wings of this country…

The view from the sky.  What a different perspective than on the ground.

The view from the sky. What a different perspective than on the ground.

What a painting on Facebook this morning!  What a bouquet!  You, with your birthing goat, your secret, your broken heart, your inspiration.  You are all me, expressions of the larger me, the me bigger than Kathy, expressions of Oneness, even those of you who roll your eyes at anything which smacks of spirituality.

Instead of trying to fix the Other, to make them into perfectly acceptable someones, can we simply delight in the Universe’s cornucopia?  The Universe has broken into a million billion trillion pieces just for us.

I’m on my knees in gratitude in the cold snowy mud.  Thank you for YOU in your uniqueness, your diversity.  I’m sorry I tried to fix you.  It’s just that I thought the world needed fixing.  Instead, it was my heart which needed to blossom bigger to include Simply Everything, even Facebook stories of birthing goats.

About Kathy

I live in the middle of the woods in Michigan's Upper Peninsula. Next to Lake Superior's cold shores. I love to blog.
This entry was posted in April 2013 and tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

27 Responses to Up all night birthing a goat

  1. dorannrule says:

    Another deep-thought post that leaves me speechless and thinking through the day. You are a philosopher writer and I love your wordsl 🙂

  2. lisaspiral says:

    Kathy, Whenever you crack your heart open and share it’s always glorious. Thank you for letting us smell the bouquet.

  3. You amaze me, Kathy — always finding words that express things just right. Hoping Spring is starting to show its colors and warmer temps your way as it is (finally!) here.

  4. ‘you are all me’ – how true! The folks we friend on FB are all people who speak to something in ourselves, whether we acknowledge it or not. 🙂

  5. Heather says:

    Oh how we vacillate. I still remain convinced that there are often better ways for people to do things, but they do things their way with what they know, and learning to accept that is tough. Life’s cornucopia – reminding us how awesome and miniscule we really are 😉

  6. John Kuttenberg says:

    Diversity, the beauty of life.

  7. the diversity is amazing and judging it for its diversity and nothing else is so much more peaceful and accepting and very you

  8. sybil says:

    Does this mean I’ll have to remove my “Republicans for Voldemort”, bumper sticker ?

  9. My “shifting kaleidoscope world” loves to align with yours, bigger than Kathy. This was my favoritest post of yours that I’ve ever read. The oneness dances through it 🙂

  10. Lori D says:

    You have no idea how much I needed to read this today. Oh, how I wish I could lament in this little comment box about how someone offended me last night, and every time I’m in her presence. And now I open your blog post, and I feel at peace with myself, with her, with our oneness, with what is. Thank you, dear friend, Kathy.

  11. Lovely, Kathy! Thank you!

  12. Oh baby goats. Speaking of longing….

  13. My facebook is such a varied group, any reader would think I’m schizophrenic. But no friends birthing baby goats–that would be so great!

  14. Kathy – I absolutely LOVE the photograph of your friend: head back in laughter, with tree and rising sun as her natural backdrop. If she happens to be an author, I certainly hope this is the photo she’s elected for her book’s jacket because it clearly features her fine spirit.

  15. Dawn says:

    That the beneficial thing about facebook…that you can see inside the hearts of so many people…whether you agree with them or not…you know more, can accept more for knowing.

  16. Carol says:

    A beautiful, spiritual post, celebrating the diversity of the world; the thrill of a cornucopia of the varied colors of our lives.

  17. Connie T says:

    The only thing I do on Facebook is play slots. I do put up pictures sometimes.

  18. Joanne says:

    In recent times I have learned to simply delight in the Universe’s cornucopia. I tried to “fix” a friend once, many years ago now, only to find out that she didn’t want to be “fixed”, (even though the words that came out of her mouth told me she did). So I now let people just be…. 🙂

  19. Stacy says:

    I love your arrangements of words, Kathy. In other spheres, they are ordinary, but when you get a hold of them, they’re magic. ❤

  20. penpusherpen says:

    ah Kathy, so many people, loved ones, strangers, acquaintances,,, with their own joys, worries, secrets, sharing their innermost thoughts to friends etc,,online, ’tis almost like happiness therapy… Deep beliefs, ideas surface and are shown the light of day… and we learn so much… and some find comfort just to know that they’re not alone. . I suppose it all comes down to the fact that we are unique beings, complex hearts, coming into this life with no ‘manual’ for an easy fix, we just ‘are’ ….. 🙂 Have a great week… xPenx.

  21. Tammy says:

    So appreciative of your recognition of the beauty in differences.

  22. Kerry Dwyer says:

    When we can find so many things to smile about in the world we are rich.

  23. Marko says:

    Hello! Have a nice new week

  24. Karen says:

    The differences are what make this world so interesting.

  25. Brenda Hardie says:

    Having so many friends who live different lives with different views and different beliefs, is what makes life so precious and interesting. If we were all the same, life would be so boring. It’s such a gift to cherish and treasure. ♥
    ps…I love the picture of your friend who is sitting on the chair outside and laughing….pure joy! ♥

Thank you for reading. May you be blessed in your life...may you find joy in the simple things...

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