My "request/theme/focus/asking" was for FACE OF GRACE at this last Novena, Way of The Rose. It resulted in my watching ways that I was trapped in:
TURNING MY FACE( AND NECK)
HIDING MY FACE
TWISTING MY FACE AWAY
MAKING A "BALOON" FACE, (MY HINDU ADOPTED MOTHER'S WORD FOR BEING NEGATIVE)
NOT FACING UP
HIDING WRINKLE-AGING FACE
REFUSING TO SHARE FACE-TIME
BEING RED-FACED, EMBARASSED
So weeks and weeks of the Novena allowed me to observe how much I had going on with my life around not facing up to issues that are current and those festering, rotting and maggotted that I carry from many centuries ago.
And occasionally "giving face" without caring about my wrinkle-skin, my sins, my traumas, my shame; without caring about the loss and betrayal of my once supposed beauty, has been interesting and I thought my only miracle. Big enough, not greedily wanting more, it sufficed for this novena because I knew that I had made sufficient spiritual progress in face show and tell.
But there is more. This weekend I attended a Catholic Women Priest event an hour away and expected to learn and decide if I was to go that route (NO, i'm not!!!) Actually I was not there to see if I was to become a Catholic woman priest because Mother Mary the Face-Maker had her own secret mission for me. Not my will but hers!!!! Here is how it happened. But first, more about these Spiritual Amazons, these brave, still calling themselves CATHOLIC WOMEN but alas, calling themselves PRISTS!!! But the clincher is they are not just playing at it, they are ORDAINED CATHOLIC WOMEN PRIESTS!!! It takes a Joan of Arc hutzpah to weather being called/titled a heretic or to put up with being literally excommunicated from the institutional Catholic Church. So here I was in this group of about 80 once/still Catholics wanting to learn about how to be holy in a NEW WAY...wanting to have a new-God/new-Prayer/new-Liturgy. And in this sacred circle already ripe for miracles I noticed a MIRACLE-MAN taking the form of a lover/person/once-partner/my ex-husband in re-incarnated form. There he was, sitting ahead of me, joining our table when we broke up into small groups...there he was, he forgetting that we were divorced, not remembering that he was murdered in 1977....there he was smiling the way he used to, looking exactly like he would if he had lived....there he was giving me loving-face like dear M used to give and when he said he was born in Kansas and I said near Shawnee Mission and he said, "Yes, near there, just 20 minutes away," and smiled, the miracle happened because: I GAVE MY "FACE" to him. Feeling safe to woo-woo him with the information that he was a "walk-in" but not using those terms and saying instead, "John you remind me of someone I once loved very much. Can I give you a hug?" He said, " Oh this happens to me all the time. People think I'm someone they know."
And for the first time in 41 years, I gave someone my face.
7 VIEWS OF 14 YEARS OF LIVING ART, 34 YEARS LATER: AN INTERACTIVE OPERA
AUDIENCE PARTICIPATES; ONE HALF HUM/ ONE HALF SINGS AT THE END OF EACH ARIA: " THANK YOU ART FOR GIVING ME LIFE."
ARIA 1: 34 YEARS AGO i THOUGHT THAT I COULD UNPACK PERSONAL PAIN AND DISTRACT MYSELF FROM THE COMPLICATIONS OF MY HISTORY BY CONTROLLING EVERY MINUTE OF EVERY DAY AND CALL THAT ART. IT DID. "THANK YOU ART FOR GIVING ME LIFE."
ARIA 2: 34 YEARS AGO I IMITATED THE LEGALIZED LANGUAGE OF SPIRITUAL INSTITUTIONS WHICH REGULATE LIVES VIA RULES ABOUT CLOTHING BY PUNITIVELY FOCUSING ON DAILY ACTIONS AND SLAVISH RITUALS WHICH BLINDFOLD FREEDOM. IT WORKED. " THANK YOU ART FOR GIVING ME LIFE."
ARIA 3: 34 YEARS AGO I IMITATED MY HINDU GURU'S LOVE OF THE CHAKRAS AND OUT OF LOYALTY TO HIM, I CREATED A SELF IMPOSED RECIPE WHICH I QUESTIONED/DISSOLVED AT THE 13TH YEAR WHEN I WENT TO INDIA AND REALIZED WITH EMBARRASSMENT THAT HINDU SCHOLARS KNOW ABOUT CHAKRAS, THEN I DO. I STOPPED BORROWING THEIR THEOLOGY SO NOW I TALK ABOUT GLANDS INSTEAD. " THANK YOU ART FOR GIVING ME LIFE."
ARIA 4: 34 YEARS AGO I FLIRTED WITH FIRE BY OPENING THE CHAKRAS AND INNOCENTLY PLAYING WITH A POWER AND SECRET TRADITION THAT HARNESSES INTERNAL ENERGIES. I BURNED. "THANK YOU ART FOR GIVING ME LIFE."
ARIA 5. 34 YEARS AGO, I SUCCESSFULLY AVOIDED AIDS BY WRITING ABOUT SEX INSTEAD OF HAVING IT WITH MANY PARTNERS. I WROTE. THANK YOU ART FOR GIVING ME LIFE.
ARIA 6: 34 YEARS AGO I INITIATED MYSELF INTO A FAUX PRIESTHOOD OF HOLY SOUNDING THEOLOGICAL RULES AND REGULATIONS WHICH I WOULD SOMETIMES BREAK SO THAT I COULD FINALLY BECOME A WOMAN PRIEST AND FORGIVE MYSELF FOR ALL OF THE SINS OF MY LIFE. I FORGAVE MYSELF. "THANK YOU ART FOR GIVING ME LIFE."
ARIA 7: 34 YEARS AGO I WAS CONVINCED THAT I CONTROLLED TIME, THINKING IT WOULD NOT CONTROL ME AND THAT I WOULD NOT DIE. FOR 14 YEARS IT WORKED. 34 YEARS LATER, I SURRENDER. TIME IS UP. " THANK YOU ART FOR GIVING ME LIFE."
As soon as Perdita and Clark asked for 'MIRACLE STORIES FROM MARY", I was happy for the invite and adjusted the prompt to a current situation, leaving in the past the one about how the lintel of the door opened when I was carrying a baby on my shoulders and walked through a front door with her/him, never even ruffling a hair on her/his infant head. Once inside the door, I heard," See what I just did for you? You are coming out of a personal tragedy and you could not have taken another, so I expanded the doorway and didn't let the wood door frame injure/kill the baby!!" It was the 70's and I wont even tell you what had happened in my personal life that warranted this BIG MIRACLE and so I leave it to your imagination but THINK BIG because it WAS BIG beyond tragic. Mary or her Angel kindly saved me from double trouble.
And I leave in the past the miracle of light flooding out of the Tabernacle at a local Catholic Church and the one about Jesus verbally taking me on as "disciple" at the St Michael's Cathedral in Montreal ( " I'm you Guru now," he said after Dr. Mishra died.) And the one about Mary adopting me as her daughter in Medjugorje with the message, "When Mrs. Mehta dies, I will be your Mother." But she didn't talk to me willingly, I made her do it by telling her that I would sit in that Church for hours if I had to and then I mentally yelled at her, "Mary I paid $8,873,653.00 dollars coming here on 2 airplanes, and am rooming with someone I never want to see ever again and so you HAVE to tell me something or I will NEVER EVER ……" I forgot what I said that I would never-ever. So then Mary, exhausted by my mood, told me about Mrs. Mehta and the future adoption.
The visit was fraught with trepidation and auguries of peril as I drove to the airport in torrential thunder/lightening/fogged windows and semi trucks careening out of control next to me on the Thruway. That I made it was compassion-enough but there was more salvation to come after the visit of my still practicing 79 year old big bro surgeon doctor and new wife who traveled from Alaska, after an 18 hours flight and his 15 year absence. I was the 10pm pick up person. He fed me Milk Duds as we drove an hour and a half back to the house, no rain. But then there was the HOUSE! And here comes the bigggggggg miracle. Focusing on my work I give short shrift to cleaning the family homestead, now filled with almost cob-webbed memories and the chair dying dad sat in and the bed doc bro was probably conceived in. The bed they were to sleep in!!!! So when he slept there and woke the next morning, with bags packed and shrill insistence that they leave, I should not have been surprised but I had invested in their comfort by cleaning and scrubbing and defumigating the past from the wall-papered walls. I had made it comfortable for him, I thought. The memoried walls messaged him otherwise.
After they left, it took two weeks of oye vey and more oye vey to clear my inner aire and then I gave it to Mary. I said quickly, curtly, rudely and without love," Mary, BROTHER-MIRACLE." Then let it go. A few days later I walked into the said bedroom and found on the floor, I'm sure on the side of the bed where he slept, a one and a half inch plastic covered cloth photo of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. Where did it come from? I picked it up, didn't hold it to my 76 year old breast but meant to, and got this, " Remember the water and wine story when I asked my son to help out the wedding guests? Well this one with your brother was tough and I had to send Him in with his Sacred Heart to do the job."
MONTANO: LAYING DOWN FOR SEVEN HOURS, MAKING SOUNDS FOR SEVEN HOURS FROM EACH CHAKRA
SOUND EQUIPMENT FOR VOICE, AND FOR DRONE. A MICROPHONE FOR SEVEN PEOPLE TELLING THE STORY OF THEIR LIVES, ONE EACH HOUR. IN DIFFERENT ACCENTS/ DIFFERENT CULTURES. THEIR STORY BLENDS WITH MY SOUNDS. NOT NECESSARILY TO BE HEARD. THEY AR E ALSO DRESSED INT HE COLOR FOR THE HOUR THEY ARE IN. ALSO A MASTER OF CEREMONIES: A PERSON STAYS WITH ME FOR THE SEVEN HORUS AND INDICATES THE CHANGE OF CHAKRAS.
SEVEN OTHER PERFORMERS, ONE EVERY HOUR, IN THE COLORS OF THE SEVEN CHAKRAS. MOVING, DRESSED IN THE ONE COLOR. CAN BE TAI CHI/THEY MOVE ACCORDING TO THEIR INTERPRETATION OF THE CHAKRA WITH THEIR OWN MUSIC AND HEADPHONES. IT IS A CONTRAST
A RECOGNIZED "HEALER" FROM THE COMMUNITY, HOUR SEVEN, GIVES A HEALING TO EACH PERSON IN AUDIENCE. CAN BE SHAMAN/ TAI CHI MASTER/ ACUPUNCTURIST/ ETC.
SIMPLE CHAKRA FOOD SERVED TO ALL AT END OF SEVEN HOURS.