Dorotea's Bucket: FAITH

Dorotea's Bucket!

One night, our youngest daughter was experiencing croup. A bad case of croup. She was about 2 at the time. We were in the jungle and no doctor or hospital was available, we couldn't even call for an emergency flight to come get us. The Cessnas cant land at night on a dark airstrip. So, we did all we could. We set up a pop up tent and I boiled kettles and kettles of water while she and her dad laid inside the Sauna environment, hoping to loosen the phlegm which was blocking her breathing. Finally, around 3 a.m. She was able to get rid of the phlegm and promptly fell into a deep sleep.

My husband and myself prepared to get some sleep as well. A few minutes after we had laid down, just on the verge of that wonderful sleep...we began to hear something. Rustling!
We went out of our room in time to see our son (10 years old or so) run by on his way outside! The 2 older girls were right behind him!
We could hear Indians beginning to run past our house as well, calling out...something!

So we grabbed the little one and ran out as well. You see, children always learn a foriegn language faster than their parents and Josh had understood the screams of the Indians.

He heard them yelling, "FIRE! THE ROOF IS ON FIRE!", and as he rolled over and looked out his window, he saw the flames VERY close to our roof. He thought OUR roof was on fire.

We had taught the children that if our palm roof EVER caught on fire..Get out FAST!! Dry leaves go up in flame very quickly and there is no time to grab anything. So, he took us at our word, and with only a yell over his shoulder to his siblings, he was out the door.

Once outside we realized the fire was at Tito and Dorotea's house, about 100 meters or so away.
My husband began to run towards the jungle path that led to our water pump. Their house was lost, but we hoped to be able to save the houses near it, including our own by wetting the roofs.

So Clint runs out, barefoot, into the dark jungle. The indian trails are narrow and only wide enough to walk on in single file. So staying on the trail in the dark was not easy. The pump was about 500 meters or so down to the river. There was no moon light, and the jungle at night can be scary. I ran in and grabbed a flash light and tossed it to him.

In the mean time, I climbed up our water tower to unhook the flexible pipe we used to fill the barrels we used as a water storage tank.

Once down, my son and I began to pull the 2 inch hose towards the fire. A two inch hose full of water is HEAVY! We were pulling and had gotten to the edge of a thick piece of jungle we needed to get through to reach the fire. My young son's voice was a little frightened as he asked, "Mommy, are we going to walk through there without a light?!"

I answered in my own frightened voice, "I guess we have to." At that same moment, something SWOOSHED by us and we felt the hose pulled from our hands!
All this time, my husband is experiencing his own adventure! The flashlight I had tossed him...well, the batteries were dead! So he is running through the jungle in the pitch black! Now, unless you have been in the jungle on a moonless night, under the canopy of the forest without a light, you have NO idea how DARK it can get!
aAs he runs, he is praying aloud, "Please God! No snakes!"
Later he says he wished he had prayed "No thorns". I had to pull 13 thorns, some up to an inch long out of his feet after he got back. But he did make it to the pump house and he did get the pump started.

Josh and I felt the hose taken from us. It was so dark we couldn't see who ,or what! had ran by until one of the Indians said, "We got it now".
Whew! I was glad to not have to go through that dark jungle!

After fighting the fire for several hours, the village was able to save all but the one house.

The thing I remember most was poor Dorotea! She was crying, "My new bucket! I lost my new bucket!"
That was her prized possession! A plastic bucket.

I ask you, if you had a fire, would you be crying over a bucket? That kind of puts it in perspective for me! We are so wealthy!

Lets remember to be grateful! God has blessed us with so much in our country, we don't even comprehend how wealthy we are. So next time you (or I) feel like whining about not having something, think of Dorotea and her bucket.
--Jungles of Venezuela

Is this a trick?

Is this a trick?

I don’t see, I don’t taste, I don’t feel. I don’t live. I  can’t hear. I’m a scarecrow in the middle of nowhere.

My function is to frighten while dead

I’m am walking dead

Though I died a long time ago

Why am I sentenced to walk this walk

I have exhausted myself and my loved ones

I can’t bear to see their agony

How much longer can I pretend

How much can I swallow my pain and loneliness

How much longer I can survive without an inside, hollow, dug out of my being??

How much longer do I need to put on a fake smile?

How much longer do I need to hide the real me?

Am I real? I don’t feel I am real..

I feel I am just ball of pain with a head and two legs that are not connected.

I feel detached from my surrounding? I don’t even know or recognize where I am or

Who I am.

What I am doing here? How did I get here? Who put me here?

Am I real?

I don’t feel my body or spirit

What is going on?

Why am I here?

Who put me here?

Why am I here?

I don’t feel my existence. I think but I am not.

But all isn't dead yet

The Moon is always Full

The Moon is Always Full

The moon is always full
Our human eyes

See only its phases
Love is always here
Our human heart

Sees only its shadow
Joy is always present
Our human mind
Reasons it away

God is always near
Our human spirit
Knows this without words

O Moon, display your full beauty
to my inner eye
O Love, come into the light that casts
no shadow

O Joy, overflow my cup of reason
with your wine

O God, fill me, fill me, fill me
with Your knowing

That my heart may rejoice in You
My eyes may be filled with You
My reason overcome by You
My spirit abound in You

Ameen!
- Irving Karchmar, November 2007

Author of  Posted by darvish

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Review of Meister der Jinn – the German Translation

Meister der Jinn, the German translation of Master of the Jinn, from the magazine Spirit Connection. To order the book, click HERE.

Tummy Trembles

our friend, anxiety Tummy trembles. Brain fuzz. That discombobulating feeling that you're not quite sure what you should be doing but you should be something to keep your act together. Anxiety. Sometimes it slips away with a few deep breaths, other times you need to beat it off with a stick or some little white pills. Naturally, we want try to get as far away from anxiety as possible - which usually just results in us being anxious about being anxious. You resist and so it persists. But what if rather than pushing it away, we actually welcomed anxiety when it showed up? What if, rather than dreading the discomfort it brings, we looked at anxiety as a delivery service of inner truth and other such soul goodies? 

Because every time anxiety shows up, it's our psyche's way of saying, "Knock knock, I've got something to show you about yourself that you really should see." Danish philosopher Soren Kierkegaard explained anxiety is a natural condition. (How liberating!) He believed that anxiety is "a cognitive emotion that reveals truths that we would prefer to hide but that we need for our greater health." And that it's a valuable to for shaping our ideal lives. Think of it this way, beneath the butterflies in your stomach, behind the clouds in your mind ... is your greater truth, and it's trying to break on through.

TURNING ANXIETY INTO POWER STEP 1: Face reality. "I'm anxious." Simply notice your anxiety. Firstly, you need to be aware of your actual indicators of anxiety ... they can be different for everyone. A lot of the times anxiety is trying to talk to us and we're just not picking up on the physical or mental cues. For me, anxiety manifests in what I call, priority confusion. If I wander from room to room in the house, unsure if I should tidy, check my email, walk the dog, or write a novel, then I know something is up. I'm typically very laid back and laser-like decisive so if I can't figure out what's first on the to-do list, I know that anxiety has come callin'. When you see the signs of it, all you need to do is simply state it. "I'm feeling anxious." There. 


You said it. You probably feel better already. Getting real is always the best first step. STEP 2: Inquiry. "So, why am I anxious?" This is the step that requires real work. It's the kind of inquiry that calls for both concentration and compassion ... a tricky combo. Having an "inquiry image" might be helpful. I often see dilemmas as layers of soft, earthy sediment within myself, and each question is a drilling down through the silt. "So why am I anxious?" I ask myself. "Because I don't want to be late." Not quite, that doesn't feel true. "So why am I anxious?"

 I repeat. "Because I've got so much to do." Nope, that's not it either, it's not making sense to my heart. "So why am I anxious?" I drill down. "Because I'm afraid that when I show up I'll be rejected." Bingo. When you get to the true reason for your anxiousness, and there may be more than one explanation, then there's usually a softening that occurs when you come across it. So you called it like you see it. That's powerful. And you've identified the reason - even more powerful. Now you're ready to rise above it. STEP 3: Take responsibility.

This is where your real power comes in. This is the fun bit, where you get to be a creative grown up, the master of your own domain. Once you've discovered why you're feeling anxious ... whether it's fear of failure, or a memory of past hurt or humiliation, then you need to counter the fear and negativity with courage and optimism. It's that simple - and that challenging. Whatever you want to call it, positive thinking, re-framing, self-encouragement, ra-ra-rah, this is where you need to step up to the plate, look at your fear head on and confront it with your truth. The truth being, that you manage to get through everyday whether with grace or grit; that fear will not kill you; that your God, or your friends, or your grandma in heaven will have your back; that you have risen above before, and that you will rise above again; that, it's only life after all. 

Anxiety doesn't come bearing the solution. It's just there to direct your attention to the problem. It's like a headache that signals to you that you're hungry. The headache reminds you that your body needs nourishment, and then it's up to you to feed yourself. Self-care is a divine responsibility. To befriend anxiety is to choose your deepest strength. It's turning brain fuzz into brilliance, and the jitters into vital fuel to help you shine brighter than ever

What failures are you grateful for?

Success and failure go hand in hand. "The things you are fired for are often the things that in later life you will be celebrated and given life time achievement awards for!" Francis Ford Coppola was canned for writing an "odd" and awkward script for the now legendary film Patton. The film was shelved, took years to make, and then went on to win an Oscar for best screenplay. Meanwhile, Coppola was working on The Godfather and was also on the verge of being canned from that film. He figures the glory from the Oscar saved his butt from being fired from The Godfather...which as we all know, went down in movie making history. If I hadn't been rejected from art school, I'd never have written my first book. If I'd gotten that gig with the big publishing house, I wouldn't have met The Dalai Lama. If I'd stayed in my last company, I wouldn't be writing the White Hot Truth. What's "odd" is often revolutionary (change happens at the edges..beware the majority.) Artistry rarely compromises, it just looks for a new place to express itself. "Good" will never, ever, ever be as deeply fine as giving it your all come hell or high water. Thank God for failure. What failures are you grateful for?

Failure Angel

The Subtle & Abiding Sense of Failure Angel. Know her? Ry Cooder is considered to be one of the greatest bluesmen of all time. Yet, on more than one occasion, with a sold out concert and multiple encores, he asked promoters to refund the audience their money because he felt, "I could have been better." I have a painter friend whose art sells for $10,000 a painting. She routinely paints over pieces that are for sale in her gallery. It could have been better, she says. I've gotten standing ovations for speaking gigs. "Meh, I give myself a B. Coulda been better." Here's the confession: I always feel like I'm failing. And succeeding. And failing. And succeeding. And failing. I'm not masochistic. My glass is not 'half full', it is oceanic. I feel sturdy and ripe. But The Subtle & Abiding Sense of Failure Thing.... it's as steady as the green of my eyes. If you're committed to the sacred strive, The Subtle & Abiding Sense of Failure Thing will always be along for the ride. ... In your speech, your craft, your work. Pleasing your lover, planting your garden, dispensing your accumulated knowledge. You can make masterpieces. Daily. You can please some people, get a raise, fire up your kundalini, you can hit it out of the park and sleep like a satiated baby that night. And then in she glides, to sit in the chair in the corner of your room: The Subtle & Abiding Sense of Failure Thing. She's an angel, I tell you. An angel. You are not insecure, neurotic, defective, obsessive, or unappreciative. (Well, maybe you are, but not because you experience The Subtle & Abiding Sense of Failure Angel.) Coexisting with The Subtle & Abiding Sense of Failure Angel is part of making art. She is as reliable as your creative impulses. She comes bearing invitations. To more. The Subtle & Abiding Sense of Failure Angel is able to enter because you left your heart open. Leave it open. You have to. To make more stuff. To make it better, so that we evolve and bring one another along for the ride. Where demons get to be angels if you look at them the right way.