Tuesday, January 8, 2008

Eleventh Day of Inner Celebration (Continued reflection)

A Personal Practice of Reflection and Renewal
for Individuals of All Faiths and Traditions
During the Twelve Holy Nights of the Year
December 25 til January 6

The Eleventh Holy Night - January 4

Passion and Compassion
"Passion and Compassion is tonight’s polarity. They are another polarity that relates to the heart.
I want a heart that is both passionate and compassionate. Passion and compassion have to do with joy and suffering in earthly and spiritual realms. To feel one and not the other would lead to a very lopsided life.
Passion arises in the earthly, selfish heart wanting heavenly joy through earthly experience. It is the feeling of intense enthusiasm, demanding hunger, or painful longing.
Passion fills our souls with self-interest and drives us to self-fulfillment and self-satisfaction.
Passion’s selfishness is necessary. It is a joyful expression of individuality. Sadly, passion can become inflamed, obsessive and never be satisfied. Uncontrolled passion brings suffering to the soul. Passion lives in a balanced metamorphosis between the force of arousal and the release through satisfaction. Passion can flame out in unrelieved arousal or die stillborn in apathy.

We need to find our passions and to know them well. We can share the ideas that are shaped by our passions and we can engage others in the deeds that fulfill our passions.
However, as an emotional feeling, our passions are a solitary experience. We feel only with ourselves..."

My response:

For me, this night of inner celebration couldn't of come at a more divine time...my grandma has been in ICU for the last several days due to complications of a failing heart. She is 89 years young, full of life and love. I invite you to share in the passion between a granddaughter and her admiration for her extraordinary grandmother in hopes that your compassion for life and love within your own relationships be restored.

Who Is This Woman I Dearly Love?

Coming to America, that was their plan,
A new life together, leaving their past in Finland.

They came with ideas, big dreams and goals,
To settle down in Minnesota, why—who knows?

She was born to a gentleman, strong, quiet and handy,
But because of the Depression, times were tough—money scanty.

Her mother was pretty and adjusted just fine,
To having six kids, always giving of her time.

With father at work five days a week then weekends gone fishin’,
Mother was at home cleaning up and preparing meals in the kitchen.

Being born last, she was the second girl to four boys,
Although all were loved, she was the baby—their pride and joy.

When asked what her childhood home was like,
She answered, “Grey in color, big yard with a well-pump and fence on all sides.”

It saddened my heart to hear of their deaths,
First her sister so young, then a brother four years later, age twenty—God bless~

Her parents and family moved on best they could,
They leaned on each other like loving families should.

Not too long after violence broke out causing WWII,
Her mother very sick from the influenza flu.

Father died of old age not too soon after,
Then did go Mama, possibly of “broken-heart” failure.

The rest of the kids stayed in touch with one another,
Some went alone and some went on together.

Some headed out west, others went to the east,
But she’s the only one living now, the others deceased.

There are many still left who branched off from her clan,
Don’t forget those families back in Finland.

Uncles, aunts, cousins abroad,
But the only one I know is her only child—seems odd.

With her immediate family now gone he makes time to call,
I too, come to see her; she’s part of me after all.

Without her stories and unconditional love,
I would have missed out on knowing her family—those now above.

She and I are “alike in so many ways”,
She tells me this often on our special days.

With my joy to read and interest to write,
She an editor during high school and wrote for the city of Duluth at night.

Her parents also creative and witty,
Mother Nummelin performed in theater; Father Heino having had his own business as a tailor within the city.

That’s not all we have in common—it’s true,
Our love for nature and animals shines through.

Who is this woman I dearly love so much,
If you guessed she’s my grandma—you’ve got the riddle touch.

Her name is Leila Helmi Heino, born March 30, 1918,
Forever, with all my love—your granddaughter, Christine

posted by: Christine on Fri, 1/4 09:10 AM EST

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