Absolute Clarity

non-fiction, video No Comments »

This video is VERY powerful.  The video was filmed during the Joplin, Missouri Tornado just over a week ago. The video was on the news the day after the tornado and just as the different stations warned viewers about the intensity of this video, I warn you that this is NOT something for small children or those who may be very uncomfortable “witnessing” the chaotic moments in this video.  I will say, there is one moment of absolute clarity from the young man who filmed the video. You don’t see much, but it is what you hear, what your heart feels ~ a Oneness.

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Barack Obama, Feb 11, 2011, Regarding Egypt’s Nonviolence & Moral Force

current events, non-fiction No Comments »

2011

We saw people of faith praying together and chanting – “Muslims, Christians, We are one.” And though we know that the strains between faiths still divide too many in this world and no single event will close that chasm immediately, these scenes remind us that we need not be defined by our differences. We can be defined by the common humanity that we share~Barack Obama, Feb 11, 2011, Regarding Egypt’s Nonviolence and moral force.

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By Chance

art, non-fiction, poetry 2 Comments »

This poem tells the true story of my father and my brother….and how one of my father’s paintings (he was a watercolor artist) found its way back to our family many years after my father’s death.

By Chance

This time
down in the basement
not far from the washer and dryer,
stacks of boxed Christmas ornaments,
a table filled with fly tying materials,
and shelves of things forgotten,
the son’s father allowed him to watch
and listen. The boy was seven.
He sat high near the work table,
next to where his father stood
as he swathed the rough textured Fabriano
with pale colors of moving water.
This will be the ocean, he’d said. Then he began
his vibrato whistle, like that of a wood-wind solo.
Pensieroso.

He whistled as the sable bristles,
an extension of his own long fingers,
dipped and twisted into the swirls
of thick titanium white, aquamarine,
emerald green, and ultramarine blue
on his pallet.
The son’s eyes followed
the brush’s movements while
his father created
an ethereal seascape for someone
who did not yet know
that by chance he’d see it,
have it speak to him,
make an offer
and carry it into his home—
a gift.

Azure liquid leaked from a sponge
his father wrung. He blotted in shadows
from the ocean up to the edge
of the masking taped paper
and then wisped thin lines of black
out lining the upper part of the indigo
and violet shadows
and the son watched
the dark run
into clouds.

Several more strokes
and a wooden weathered boat
tethered to a mooring buoy
emerged on the paper. Now he whistled
a shanty, as he worked
the impression of the rig.
A burnt sienna mast appeared and rose
into the overcast sky,
and then a loosely furled sail.
The father knew then what the son did not
and carefully drew
the brush from left to right,
to the stern. The father stirred
the brush in an old
peanut butter jar
full of blue-green water, whipped
moisture from it, set it down. He stepped away,
reached for an angular bowled pipe,
tapped tobacco, lit a match
drew in the smoke. The line of his
back tilted away
from the art and he ran
the pipe’s mouth piece across
his lips. He returned the pipe to its rest
and chose a finer brush, held it and waved
it like a conductor’s wand
through the air. He punctuated
the motion into white,
then black, then to the paper. This is a gull,
he said, and dipped again into the black
for the bird’s eye. The vibrato
in his whistle began
once more as a stiffer brush met
with a soft, washed-out yellow. Yellow bled out and away
from the sea bird, that stretched his feet
to light atop the mast.
In staccato fashion the brush dabbed in barnacles,
moss, sea foam, rippled reflections.
It’s magic, the son said.
Spirit, said the father.
Art is from God.

* * * * *

Thirty-three summers after
his father sold the painting
thirty-three summers after
his father died,
the son stood inside the frame
shop. Non-glare glass shards, soft
leaded pencils, gray gum
erasers, a rainbow
of matting scraps, metal squares,
velvety polishing cloths, Exacto knives,
moulding lengths, coils of wire, minute
brads, and powdery sawdust surrounded him.

Bells rang at the door—
unoiled hinges echoed its opening. A small
round, older man entered,
and in both hands he carried a large
paper wrapped painting.
Good morning, the son said.
The man placed the painting
on the counter, tore away the paper. It
means a great deal to me, the man said as he turned
it toward the son. Someone I loved
gave this to me. The man’s eyes
didn’t look away
from the art.
The son’s eyes focused
on a sea gull,
the yellow bleeding out and away
from it. The son ran
his hand down the glass
as though scanning prose and
rested his forefinger to the right
of the artist’s signature.
This is my father’s
work, said the son.
I sat next to him when he painted it. The man’s
eyes met with the son’s. He used to whistle,
said the son.

The man left the painting
for a new frame. The son
spoke to his mother, his sisters.
Come see, he said. The mother
set her hand near the name. The sisters
touched the frame.
The son stood back and realized
the sea. It is the ocean.
He watched and listened.

Two weeks passed and the son
called the man. I finished the frame,
said the son. The bells rang
at the door—the hinges now oiled
made no sound. The man stood back from
the painting, the ocean, the boat, the gull.
Your father would be happy, he said. The man
opened a manila envelope and handed the son
papers. This is a copy
of my will. The painting
will return to you one day. The son
did not meet eyes
with the man. Black type bled
through the yellow
highlighter—the son and the father’s name. The son
shook the man’s hand
and nodded. The son did not hear the bells
as the man closed
the door behind him.

Three days later the man
appeared again, carrying
a large paper wrapped painting.
This painting
belongs with you, the man said.
No need to wait
until I die.

Nannette Rogers Kennedy
November 17, 2002

This is the painting the man returned to my brother ~ it hangs in our home.

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Is it Worth It?

essay 1 Comment »

mountaintop

What is it inside of us that makes us instinctively do some of the things we do? If we, for instance, see a small child fall off their bike or drowning in a swimming pool, we automatically, without taking the time to think “Is it worth it?” move to help or save the child in need. I would say that we are born “wired” this way. If we do not naturally react in this way, we have somehow “unlearned” the innate compassion of Oneness, Unity and Connection that is born within every one of us.

There is much talk today about Oneness, Unity, Connection, Coexisting, Being Spiritual, Loving Everyone, etc. For some these are just words that are generally understood, or seen as an almost ethereal “out there” concept that is just “out of our reach.” If we have forgotten our connection to one another there is a way to remember.

And I promise you that there is only ONE thing that changes when you shift the way you think about everyone on the planet and that is EVERYthing. You will be amazed how your life seems to flow, how you seem to move with the flow, and how without even knowing it, you will change the lives of others around you.

When you begin to live from a place of Oneness, Unity, Connection, etc., (leaving behind patterns of living in a “me” world of “it’s only about me and my life” to a “we” world that really understands our connection to each other, and the pebble in the water metaphor) it will be quite natural for you to open the door for someone else, to pick up something that someone has dropped, to stop and help someone change a tire. In fact, it will become quite unnatural for you to simply walk by without the thought of helping, just as unnatural as ignoring a child in need.

Just the other day I was in the grocery store when a young college student knocked over an entire grocery display. The young man’s face was as red as a tomato as he stooped down to begin picking up the dozens and dozens of packages off the floor. Immediately, my son and I began to help him put the display back together. I told the young man about the time I pulled a lemon out of display and hundreds of lemons collapsed and rolled into 45 different directions. He smiled instantly.

We so often feel alone in benign circumstances such as these and even though we know intellectually that we are NOT the only person that has ever experienced such a blunder, at that moment, it feels like we are the ONLY one. The minute I shared my story with this college student, you could tell a difference in the way he felt, the way he looked. There is a quote I love ~ Friendship doubles our joys and divides our sorrows (unknown). In this moment, the college student and I became friends. This is living in Oneness ~

It did not cross my mind to NOT help in this situation. It was automatic. Another appropriate quote comes to mind, one that is in every religious philosophy on the planet ~ Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. The trick is to REMEMBER this golden rule. And trust me, the more you practice, the easier it becomes. Stick a note with this rule on your bathroom mirror, in your car, on your computer and even make a bumper sticker ~ get the word out to help remind others.

I’m sure some of you are thinking, “Well, what if I cannot help? What if my daughter is waiting for me to pick her up? What if I’m not feeling well? What if the problem is happening half way across the world, like the recent earthquakes?” I love what Wayne Dyer says about this: “Everything is perfect in the universe – even your desire to improve it.” This implies that even your desire to want to help, though you may be unable to physically help for whatever reason, is a positive action and will raise not only your own energy, but the energy of those around you.  And there is always the power of prayer and meditation.

If you are questioning the entire concept of Oneness, Unity, Connection, etc., because you aren’t sure you believe that we are all inextricably connected, then you must visit National Geographic’s The Human Family Tree (http://channel.nationalgeographic.com/channel/human-family-tree ). National Geographic’s study called The Genographic Project (https://genographic.nationalgeographic.com/genographic/lan/en/index.html ). A National Geographic Team took hundreds and hundreds of DNA samples to create their study showing how we really are all connected. “Where do you really come from? And how did you get to where you live today? DNA studies suggest that all humans today descend from a group of African ancestors who—about 60,000 years ago—began a remarkable journey.” You cannot get to the end of this movie without a sense of awe and seeds of remembering and awakening.

Is this about God, Buddha, Allah, The Source of all that is, Christ, a higher power? That is up to you. It matters not what you call it. It only matters that you re-awaken to the idea that we are all of the same infinite life source. An ancient Hindu proverb says: There are many paths to the mountain top. It matters not which path you take, so long as you take one. This implies there is only One destination, and for me and many, many others, that destination is the realization that we are all One.

Show that you have hope and faith that we, as a planet, can and will make it. If you have not signed the petition, please sign Humanity’s Team Oneness Day Petition (http://www.humanitysteam.org/sai/oneness-petition/what-is-it) stating that we are all connected. In May 2010, Humanity’s Team Global Council will present this petition to the United Nations so that an official day of Oneness will be recognized the world over.

Make Oneness, Unity, Connection, The Human Family, INSTINCT.

Is it worth it?

Yes.
jumpingjoy

Nannette Kennedy
nannette.kennedy@humanitysteam.org

March 25, 2010
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Fingertip to Fingertip

poetry No Comments »

Pillar2-Supernatural-GodCreates-Man-Sistine-ChapelOn a ceiling
in Florence
fingertip
reaches for fingertip
to unclothe
the Divine Encounter.

Upon contact
faces evolve
and unwittingly
drop
their identities.

Hands cease
wringing
and meet sweet
Palm to Palm ~
a mirror
gesture.

In an unmarked
passageway, Time
dissolves in the Disappearance
of the Self.

And in an instant
a whisper in the Soul
bursts the notion of
“I” and “alone.”

Absolute awe
washes the mind
and at once
understands
that just as White
foaming Waves
cannot separate from the Sea
neither can the Soul
uncouple itself from God.

Fingertips
extend for the contact
to reveal and translate
the Divine Encounter:
We are One.

nannette rogers kennedy

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Michael Beckwith, Archbishop Tutu, & Basketball?

essay, non-fiction No Comments »

beckwithWritten last night…Randy, my husband, and I just got home from Michael Beckwith lecture. WOW x 10. I met him, gave him my Humanity’s Team (HT) card, and had written an invitation for him to join us in South Africa for the Oneness Summit…adding that I was coming from area of possibility. He was gracious, didn’t say yes or no, but put the business card with the information about Oneness Summit in his pocket.

Beckwith told us about the time he spent with Tutu last summer regarding a conference on slavery. While together, Beckwith & Tutu had joked about favorite basketball Teams as Tutu was wearing a Boston Celtics shirt (I’m not much into basketball–not only did Randy have to remind me of the teams, but also of the sport…I thought they were talking baseball…). Beckwith let Tutu know that that the Boston Celtics were not his team. Tutu let Beckwith know that the Boston Celtics were HIS team. Someone took their picture (with Tutu in his basketball shirt) and when Beckwith returned to the states, he photoshopped the picture and dressed Tutu in a LA Lakers shirt and sent it back to the Archbishop. Pretty funny.

Beckwith signed my book, namaste and we left…about five minutes spent with him. Just another day in paradise…He’s unbelievably inspiring…gospel style delivery, interactive, but all about Oneness and making our world a better place. Very compelling and tremendous command performance. If the Agape Spiritual Center was here, I’d go to it–talk about raising your energy level! We were in 2nd row. Beckwith’s granddaughter (9 years old), was sitting right behind us. Because of interactivity and being asked to HI 5 the people around us several times, I HI 5′d his granddaughter several times. Didn’t know she was his granddaughter until end of the event. I’m very glad Randy and I went.

I did some looking around on the Internet for photo of Tutu wearing this shirt, but to no avail. Instead I found a short article about why Boston Celtics use the South African term Ubuntu, which means “I am because of you.” This is something that Tutu speaks about often.

BOSTON, Mass. – June 10, 2008 – Sports quiz time. Can you name the Boston Celtics’ new rallying cry? It’s something the team chants…not the fans . . . (click on text to read full article).

Who knew?

Five days left until I begin my travels. Must get organized.

Blessings,
nannette

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