Nekyia's Threshold

subject:
Genesis of a Lady
post date:
2007-10-03 07:40:20
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When this personna "died" (and I still am not sure what killed her - she trounced the shadow world and all that walked in it for years) I actually bought the domain name www.LadyChinasCrypt.com, so she'd have a place to rest in peace - or pieces. You probably would have wanted to kill her too...Genesis of a Lady (originally blogged at www.yserbius.org on October 9, 2005)It was Super Bowl Sunday, 1993. The Buffalo Bills versus the Dallas Cowboys. I was in love with a Sham. Shaman to be exact. Future husband of Cyren. Future destroyer of a part of me. I prefer to think of that destruction as an opportunity for other parts of me to thrive. Always the optimist, is me.I'd quickly discovered that I was attracted to certain names. A name in the tavern was almost like a glance in the coporeal world. You knew things about that person immediately, they might not be true - but certainly they weren't just accidental. Silk-n-Chain was a bold and sensuous woman, Ironfist was most certainly a fiesty male dwarf. Babble-On, with the epithet of +sinner+, was going to be a giddy woman/childlike type.I'd spent enough time observing the phenomenon of the name game to have a fairly accurate read on what type of bait to put on my hook. So I created "Lady China - fragile". And I sat in the Sword Swamp tavern that Super Bowl Sunday, and sure enough, here came my prey, biting at me. Shaman spent a good hour tossing out his own bait, until I said, "Oh, hold on - my mom's calling me!" And then he asked how old I was, and I told him "14." I was certainly an adult, for the record. Lady China was definately going to live a long and chaotic life after that birth.The name and character just sort of stuck as a favored toy of mine. Eventually she dropped the "fragile" from her epi. Jokes about being the Tupperware Lady and having a very tight seal were a favorite form of self-mockery. Her favorite form of attack was to appear so harmless that the beasts would ignore her until they were neck deep in a sticky pit she'd laid out for them.That was her birth. Super Bowl Sunday, 1993.I wrote the blog below a year ago. I literally sobbed as I did it. Today a book entitled "Amish Grace: How Forgiveness Transcended Tragedy" explores the phenomenom that touched me so powerfully a year ago. A question was asked of the person that observed the Amish and wrote the book:"What can Americans learn from the Amish understanding of forgiveness as it was expressed after the Nickel Mines shooting?"Answer: "...Even though forgiveness is a complicated and difficult thing, if we approach it with the support of other people - the Amish do everything in community, including their grieving - and if we don't feel like we have to have all the emotions sorted out before we extend compassion, the road to forgiveness is easier. Reaching out in compassion to others in the faith that the difficult emotional work will follow, I think, is one of the things that they demonstrate.In our world today, religion is so often used as a force for division, and here is an example of religion being used for compassion and healing..."Amen... (and so below are my thoughts on that child massacre and the amazing grace that the Amish extended.)October 10, 2006 - Tuesday 8:18 PM - Oh, the HUMANITY I watch the world with wonder. We all carry out our little lizard brain directives of feeding, fucking, fighting, and fleeing under the warmth of the same burning sun and the silvering of the same mysterious moon. Some of us rise above the atavistic impulses and bring the divine just a little closer into the world. Its all a matter of choice and free will. The milkman's baby daughter died 20 minutes after she was born. He was filled with rage and hatred towards a God that would let him suffer such a loss. Nine years later he went into an Amish schoolhouse and killed innocent little girls, then himself. Two of the girls offered their lives freely to sate his rage, hoping mercy would be shown to the others. In Columbine two boys took aim and killed classmates. One asked a girl cowering under a table, "Do you believe in God?" She answered, "Yes." She died. The boys killed themselves.Rage and pain filled the hearts of the people of Columbine. Pity and humanity filled the souls of others. Crosses were erected on a hilltop to stand silent witness to the souls lost. The crosses representing the boys that pulled the trigger were torn down.In the Amish farmlands more than half the attendees at a murderous man's funeral were the very people who had lost their innocent young girls. They reached out with love and compassion to the innocence left behind within the family of the murderer - his daughters and wife. Choices. Neither choice made in either horrific tragedy/scenario of victimization made a damn bit of difference to what had happened. Nobody miraculously rose from their coffin, renewed and revived. No further understanding into the incomprehensible motivations of the perpetrators was given in a booming message from the divine on high. I look at the choices made and I literally weep at the bitter sweet joy I feel when true forgiveness, love, mercy, and acceptance are shown. There's hope.