Tag: god

Still Broken

~ Kai Raines ~ Leave a comment

Well, it has been a week…not even a week yet. Fuck. My wife asked me how I was doing on Wednesday or Thursday, and I said I felt overwhelmed. She asked me why, as in specific reasons, not questioning my emotions. I said, “I don’t know…the end of our democracy.” And that silenced us both.

Since then, my fears have just multiplied. You may ask, “Why?” I will lay it out for you:

*Putin, seeing the election results, said that a “new world order is forming.”

*The plan for mass deportation of undocumented migrants in this country regardless of circumstances or the devastating impact on the economy.

*A federal judge striking down Biden’s program for undocumented spouses, as illegal. The program designed to keep families together.

*The undoing of the constitutional right to reproductive healthcare, including the right to an abortion.

*The blatant plan to reverse marriage equality.

*Texts sent to Black Americans telling them they have “been selected to pick cotton” at a nearby plantation. These texts went out to adults, as well as, college and high school students. And these texts were not just in Georgia, Alabama, Louisiana the states considered the deep south…were I guess people expect such racism, seriously? They were sent in New York, California, Pennsylvania, Ohio, Wisconsin, and Michigan. And that is not the entire list. What is happening?

*The rise of fear, anger, and hate, and a growing attitude of us vs them. The use of those emotions as weapons to pit us against each other…even when what we are hearing is not true.

*The supreme court granting the president almost complete unchecked power. The branches of government designed to act as the checks and balances of presidential power no longer function that way.

*The President Elect already preparing pardons for the January 6Th rioters who attempted to overthrow our government and disrupt the peaceful transition of power. People died that day. 174 police officers were injured. One was killed.

*Elon Musk promised a cabinet position where he will cut the federal budget by 3 trillion dollars. And they have told us that people will suffer.

*RFK Jr. will oversee the Department of Health…and specifically women’s health. There is nothing that makes less sense than a man appointed to make the rules or guidelines for women’s health. He is an unapologetic anti-vaccination and conspiracy theorist…which could lead to the return of illnesses that previously were eradicated by vaccines.

*Referring to anyone who disagrees with the administration as the “enemy within” and the threat of using the armed forces against citizens of this country.

*And the last thing I am going to mention (and I could go on), the President Elect plans to destroy the Department of Justice and fire all career prosecutors, to remake the justice system in his image and use it against his enemies…that would be anyone who disagrees with him.

I feel like I am living in The Hunger Games…only this is no game. I love movies, but I do not want to live in them. They are fantasy and not real…except when the leader of our country wants to make it real. The elite having all the privilege, access, and opportunity and everyone else existing to meet their needs and keep them happy. And to entertain them…fooling themselves into thinking that the game you are entering is a privilege rather than an atrocity. But in the end, it took 3 books, Katniss Everdeen, the girl on fire, prevails…but a lot of shit goes down before that can happen.

Back in 2020 I wrote a blog called, “Broken.” At the time I was feeling devastated because of Covid and the tremendous loss of life and the murder of George Floyd. I am sharing the link here (http://karenraines.com/2020/06/03/broken/) because I am still broken. We are broken. Our country is broken. It is easy now to feel like everything is out of our control and there is nothing we can do, but that is not true. This week I joined the ACLU and signed up to volunteer. It’s a small step but it’s a step. We all must make ourselves keep moving forward.

Here’s the thing, I always write about love. Love as a guiding principle in my life. The need for love in our treatment of other people. Seeing people who may not be the same as us through a lens of love. Love conquers hate. Love is bigger than any person’s bigotry. Love produces more love. When we act with love for ourselves, our communities, our country, our world, our actions become compassionate, filled with kindness, and a desire to connect, not separate. We come to care for one another and want the best for each other…regardless of the color of your skin, what pronouns you use, who you love, where you’re from, or what language you speak. We see and share our common humanity. In the end, what matters is how we love people. We have some serious work to do.

Love is powerful and healing. We need some healing…some big fucking healing. Is that going to happen right now? I hope so but I think we are in for a rough road ahead. While fear, anger, and hate are in the oval office love will appear to be losing…but it will not lose.

Love has been on my mind all week and I’ve been confused on how to proceed. I do not feel loving right now. I am scared and angry. So, I turned to some teachers to find comfort and direction. Buddha said, “In this world hate never yet dispelled hate. Only love dispels hate. This is the law, ancient and inexhaustible.” And St. Francis had a beautiful prayer that can help us move in a positive direction. “Make me an instrument of your peace, Where there is hatred, let me sow love; Where there is injury pardon; Where there is doubt, faith….that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console; To be understood, as to understand; To be loved as to love.”

Now there are some marching orders. But I am not marching right now. I am staggering. We are staggering. I still feel a deep sense of shock and loss. We need to feel all the feelings and not rush ourselves to get over it. Take time. Time to care for yourself and those around you. Think about ways to get involved and stay involved. Imagine a world where equality is the norm, and everyone has the same opportunities. Imagine no racism, sexism, misogyny, homophobia, transphobia, elitism…all the isms and phobias eliminated. Picture that world. Create a picture in your mind or on a vision board. Look at in several times a day. Make it the first image of your morning and last image you see at night. Look at it and believe in the possibility…the possibility of real change. Let that image guide you to the next best step for you…for us. Remember, in the end all that matters is how we love people…especially when it’s hard. Love always wins. Let’s win together.

Why Would It Be Different In Heaven?

~ Kai Raines ~ Leave a comment

Mother’s Day was Sunday. I was asked several times how I was doing on my first Mother’s Day without my mom. There is no simple answer to that…or maybe no nice answer. The last two Mother’s Day’s were horrible. My mom was angry and mean. She spent the day yelling at my dad and I and slamming things around. So, it would be dishonest to say that I really missed her Sunday. I was grateful to spend this Mother’s Day with my daughter, grandchildren, and great-grandson. It was a beautiful day.

Prior to the last two years, I didn’t see my mom for twelve years. And although I sent her a text message each year, I know she didn’t read them…possibly because I sent them and also because she didn’t do texting. I always struggled to find a Mother’s Day card for my mom. They tend to be pretty mushy and sentimental…two things I don’t feel about my mom. I wouldn’t give her a card with words I didn’t mean and so I always got her funny cards, which she hated. She liked to be gushed over. The last two years I gave in and gave her sentimental cards and they didn’t make any difference to her. She wasn’t speaking to me, so she didn’t even acknowledge them.

The last time I saw my mom she was not in a great space or mood. She looked at me and pretty snarkily said, “I should have never moved to Wisconsin!” I told her we weren’t in Wisconsin. She asked where we were and then said, “I should have never moved to Florida.” Shortly after that she turned away from me, curled up, and went to sleep. That was the last conversation I had with my mom. She’s been on my mind so much.

I’ll be honest…I’m tired of grief. I am way the fuck over it. It isn’t as neat and orderly as I’d like it to be. It’s a fucking mess. I’m a fucking mess. I would like to know when I’ll be okay…when will I just feel like me again. Maybe I won’t…I mean I am an orphan after all. I would like to know something else…actually I’d like to know everything else, but specifically, right now, I want to know what it’s like to die. What does it feel like? I have some fears around dying…not so much the actual death but the being dead. I’m afraid I’ll miss people and be sad and lonely. I suppose at that point it won’t matter…it’s not like I can be suddenly undead…aren’t zombies the only people that can do that? Are they even people? I digress.

This is what happens to me when my wife travels. My mind runs wild with unanswerable questions. She had to go back to Colorado for work. Leaving my English Bulldog, Abby, and I alone in Florida. It’s the first time I’ve been here without either of my parents alive. I’d like to say Abby is helpful, but mostly she’s just sleepy. She needs her full 22 hours of sleep a day.

P!nk wrote a song after her dad’s death called, “When I Get There.” In the song she asks why things would be different in heaven than they were here. Or why would her dad be different in heaven. I think she says he was always first in line, and he always said what was on his mind…things like that. It’s funny because I’ve been wondering the same thing…mostly about my mom. Why would things suddenly be different just because someone died? Why would she be different just because she’s dead?

I floated this idea past my wife, just to see what she thought…she didn’t like it. She reminded me about all the accounts people have given of near-death experiences…I guess more accurately they are dying and being brought back to life stories. People report seeing a bright white light that’s warm and welcoming. They hear the voices of people they love who have died. This reassures her, and millions of others, that there is a heaven, and it’s our final destination.

Personally, I don’t believe in heaven or hell. I do believe in reincarnation. The energy that is the core of who we are, our soul or spirit, has to go somewhere. I think it comes back in another form. I’m pretty sure I’ll be back as a gnat or an ant, because I’ve killed many of them when they’ve invaded my home. Side note…The other day there was an ant on our counter. Now instead of killing it, I picked it up and went to put it outside. And that little fucker bit me. It left a red lump on my palm. That’s karma baby…but I still didn’t kill it. I used to tell the little kids in my mindfulness program that we don’t kill things just because we can…they would usually stomp ants anyway. I tried.

I have read several of books by James Van Praagh, the psychic medium. I’ve also seen him in person and watched him connect people in the audience with departed loved ones who have a message to give…or just something to say. He’d ask the audience if a name or specific situation, that he was describing, meant something to anyone in the audience. Someone would raise their hand and then he would begin to tell them about who was there to talk to them and what they were saying. He was able to provide very specific information about people, situations, causes of death, etc. He’s really impressive.

I have heard James Van Prague talk about what happens when we die. He had said that through his readings he’s learned that there isn’t a heaven or hell, although he does use the term heaven anyway. He explained that when we die our energy goes with like energy. If you were a loving and kind person in your life you would be surrounded by others with similar loving and kind energy. If you were mean and hateful then you would be attracted to the mean and hateful energy of the departed. So, in a sense we create our own heaven or hell. I suppose that’s good news and scary news.

Now I was raised Catholic. I come from an Irish Catholic family that has its attachment to Catholicism rooted in Ireland. My grandmother went to church early in the morning, before she had to work, at least several days a week. Then church on Sundays and confession probably every week. Now all of that is to say that there was no other option than being Catholic in my family…and it wasn’t really an option to just not be anything.

In my Catholic training (catechism classes…yay.) I learned about purgatory. Purgatory is an intermediate state between death and heaven. It’s a place of temporary suffering. Merriam-Webster says that it’s a “place or state of suffering wherein…the souls of those who die in God’s grace may make satisfaction for past sins and so become fit for heaven.” I’m gonna have to say “no thank you” to that good news…yikes!

What I don’t understand is if you go to confession, as required in the Catholic Church and you do your Hail Mary’s, or whatever the priest assigns, you’re supposed to be forgiven…so why the pit stop to be punished again? Although it sounds super fun…I’ll give it a hard “oh fuck no.” Why change if you still end up suffering before you’re good enough for heaven? Heaven being the goal for most people. I don’t believe in purgatory either. I do think there’s a gap between when we die and when we are reborn, but I don’t think it’s punishment.

So why is all this on my mind? I’ll tell you. I worry about my mom. I worried about her when she was alive, and I worry about her now. My mom was not a happy person…at least not the mom I experienced. She had a difficult life as a child and that shaped who she was and how she saw herself. She didn’t believe anyone loved her. She didn’t think my dad loved her, even after almost 70 years of marriage. She was damaged as a child and that kept her from fully accepting who she was. It also kept her closed off to recognizing and receiving love. She may not have had love as a child, but she was loved by many as an adult. It’s very sad to me that she couldn’t accept love. I worry now that she might feel alone. She didn’t like to be alone. She was scared alone. Nothing I learned in catechism told me how to address those fears.

Personally, I believe that our souls or spirits are timeless because we’ve been here before…many, many times. I don’t think that a love connection you shared with someone while you were alive is gone when you die. I think that love bonds go on forever. Maybe it’s like object permanence…even when a person you loved is gone from your presence, you know they still exist out there somewhere. And the love you shared with them continues.

I think part of the process of death and reincarnation is our souls working out past karma…karma from our current lives and past lives. James Van Praagh has explained that after death people of like minds gravitate together and share a natural attraction. So, for example, a soul like Hitler, who created mass destruction, devastation and death, will be attracted to similarly dark energetic souls.

James Van Praag describes “heaven” as having many levels and that the one that we enter right after we die is similar to our existence on earth and that people eventually evolve from these earth-like levels. He says that our soul’s movement is enabled by understanding that religion is a human tool and is not needed in the higher planes. From his experience communicating with spirits, he has learned that the only religion is love.

If we enter heaven with a similar mindset that we had while we were alive, then why would things be different in heaven? If you go to heaven as the same person you were two minutes before you died, then what’s different in heaven, besides being dead? I wonder if that’s confusing to a spirit…seems like it to me. I guess there’s no instant angelhood…I’m not sure that’s a word or a thing.

My mom was an angry person and she held on to resentments. I worry that heaven might not be great for her right now. I want her to find peace and rest but I’m not sure that’s immediately available to everyone. I don’t want her to live in an eternal place that’s as painful for her as her life was. The good news, according to James Van Praagh anyway, is that there’s no mental illness after death. Mental illness is a condition of the physical world. I don’t know who my mom would have been or what she would have been like without mental illness…maybe now she’ll have the opportunity to find out.

Honestly, I hope there’s healing in heaven…if there is a heaven…or wherever we end up. I don’t think there’s a place up in the sky where the dead, the “good” dead, reside, playing the harp and laying on clouds. But if heaven is where we go to work out our past karma and await rebirth, that makes more sense to me. If our mindset can continue to evolve and progress even after we die, then the work never ends…the work of becoming never ends. We are always becoming even after we cease to be on this planet. Maybe we have the ability for clear retrospect when we die. Maybe we can see more accurately what was available to us when we were alive. Maybe we see missed opportunities or missed understandings. Maybe we get to have all that we thought we missed out on…love, belonging, gratitude, rest, being seen and loved for who we are.

I definitely have more questions than answers with all of this death stuff…and I’m in no hurry to experience it firsthand. What I do know for sure is that in the end all that matters is how we love people. Because love wins…always.

And for you mom…May you find peace. May you find rest. May you know you are loved.

I’m An Orphan…Right?

~ Kai Raines ~ Leave a comment

Can you be an orphan at 63? Well, 63 and ¾’s to be accurate. Personally, I’m not sure but my sister says that we’re orphans now. My mother died March 17th. St. Patrick’s Day. My sister and I think she did that on purpose. Now no one will ever forget the day she died and it’s a national holiday for us Irish folks. What more could you ask for…green beer and toasts to you all night…toasts lengthening with each Guinness consumed. Omg! She would be so pleased. I’m happy for her about that. We did many toasts Sunday. My favorite was, “May heaven know you’re dead a full half hour before the devil finds out.” She wouldn’t like that one for herself, but my dad was probably laughing his ass off. Hopefully I didn’t create a conflict there…I wouldn’t want them to fight on her first day in heaven.

My mother died peacefully in her sleep Sunday morning. The rehab center called to tell me. It was a call I had been expecting at any time, but I was still surprised when it came. My mother wanted to die. She was ready. In her good weeks, she told me she had a great life but that she had lived longer than she wanted to. She missed my dad. She had stopped eating and drinking. She curled up in bed and went to sleep. She stayed asleep several days before she died. My dad passed away exactly the same way. I’m sure after 70 years it was hard to be apart. 

My first phone call was to my sister. I told her and then we just stared at each other silently for a minute or two on FaceTime, and then she said, “Well we’re orphans now.” I would have been surprised by that except she had been practicing this idea on me with “We’re gonna be orphans soon” or “We’re gonna be orphans when mom dies” and “We’ll be orphans. That’s what it’s called when both of your parents are dead.” That’s what it’s called alright…kind of.

An orphan is defined as, “A child under the age of 18.” This definition made my sister super sad, so I told her I’ll adopt her, and then she won’t be an orphan. I can be her “sister mother” kind of like “sister wife” only legal…at least I think it would be legal…super creepy but legal. And I won’t make her wear a long dress and braids…well maybe braids. I’m thinking Pippi Longstocking’ish. I need some red hair dye.

When I hear the word “orphan” I think of “Little Orphan Annie” the title of which became “Annie” probably because you don’t address a child as a “little orphan” or any kind of orphan. It’s not a title. The movie “Annie” reminds me of, “It’s a hard knock life for us” and “Tomorrow, tomorrow, I love you tomorrow….” And of course, Carol Burnett as Ms. Hannigan. She was some bitch.

For my sister’s sake, I also read that adults who have lost their parents can (and do) identify themselves as orphans. Merriam-Webster says, “A child whose parents have died, are unknown or have permanently abandoned them” are orphans. By that definition my mom was an orphan from a young age. Her father left my grandmother when my mom was 6, I believe. She told me that he was crazy about her and loved to take her places with him. She said that he loved her so much, but he still left, and she never saw him again. And she doesn’t know why. My mom was devastated by the loss of her dad. She had a double loss, her dad and being left with her mother, who she told us, never loved her. My grandmother’s brother, my Mom’s Uncle Mike, lived in the apartment with them. I’ve heard horror stories of how my grandma and great uncle would scare my mom and how they were mean to her. She was traumatized as a child. And I guess no one really cared. I know she felt abandoned and unloved.

It’s no surprise my mom had a lot of phobias…claustrophobia, acrophobia, and hydrophobia are the ones I remember. Not understanding why she was treated so harshly she came to believe that she was “bad” somehow and everything that happened was her fault. When children don’t understand what’s happening around them, they make up a story that solves the riddle for them. Our brains cannot manage the stress of not knowing or understanding what happened, so our brain creates a solution…even if the solution is hurtful to us…or untrue.

I was also an orphan, way before this St. Patrick’s Day. I was abandoned by my mother almost from birth. Not technically, not physically, but emotionally. My mom and I had a complicated relationship. I’m not sure exactly why.  I think many of our issues stemmed from her own childhood. They were hers but projected onto me, so what was hers became mine. Her mother favored her brother, 4 years younger than her, I believe. My mom used to say, as if she was joking, that her brother was “the sun, moon, and stars” to her mom and that “he could do no wrong.” She felt unloved and unwanted. I felt the same way. My mom and I had years that we were estranged from each other and that led to my estrangement from my dad, my sister, and all my extended family. I’m sorry for the lost years, at the time I was doing what I thought was best for me, and my own mental health. Would I do it differently now? I honestly don’t know.

I’ve used this blog to write about my mom and I will continue to write about her, probably a lot. I’m going to write about her because she was my mom. She was a very influential person in my life. The ways she loved and hated, was pleased or disappointed, what she accepted and what was just tolerated shaped who she was and who I am. Now with awareness, I want to choose my shape…I will shape who I will become…or am becoming. We are always becoming.

My mom had mental health issues. My primary caretaker had mental health issues. Issues that were never fully addressed and definitely not talked about. It was perhaps the biggest elephant in the room growing up…and there was a small herd. I’m going to free the poor elephant, actually, all the elephants. They’ve been chained up for too fucking long. I’m going to write about, and talk about, the issues in my family, with my mom, my dad, my parents (because they were different together than individually), maybe my sister, extended family…I’m gonna talk about patterns and habitual behaviors, familial and personal. I’m going to talk about the legacy of abuse, mental illness (in different forms), abandonment, grudges, withholding, and I’m going to talk about forgiveness, mental health, insight and change…I hope lots of change, for myself. I’ll leave other people to determine their own path through whatever life brings to them. Life brings a lot…a hell of a lot. 

If you’re reading this and you loved my mom, you might be offended when I talk about her…so this blog may not be for you. Remember though, I loved her too. I loved her and she was my model for motherhood and womanhood. I was sculpted out of my responses and reactions to her. In order to understand me I need to understand her. I need to develop my compassion for her. She was just a woman doing the best she could. It didn’t always feel that way. I’m sure it doesn’t always seem like I’m doing my best either. I’m gonna do my best with this. I’m gonna do my best for my wife, kids, and family. I’m gonna do my best for her and for me…so I keep moving forward.

Let’s be real…losing a parent is hard. Losing both in less than a year feels like a lot. That’s my official assessment of myself…it’s a lot. Sorting through baggage, that we’ve carried for years is hard work. The starting point is to put it down. Set the baggage down. It may feel like you can’t because it’s such a part of you and after all it’s part of a matched set. Do it anyway. Set it down and look around it. Finding a new perspective can get you started on a new path, and intentional path…a path for you and your health, both emotional and physical. I am choosing an intentional path. I am choosing my path. No one is making me do anything. I’m taking the path that leads me through all the shit I’ve been avoiding for such a long time. No more serpentining…constantly running in a zigzag line because I’m afraid of what will happen if I stop. What happens if I stop? If I stop and set down the baggage…I guess it’s time to find out.

So I’m headed on to a path of transformation. My transformation. I am way the fuck too old to be blaming my mom for anything. It’s time I take charge of my own life. My own life and my own behavior. In order to love someone, you have to know them. And to know them you have to listen, deeply. Its time for me to know, listen to, and understand myself. To give myself the same consideration I’d give a friend. And of course, it all starts with love. Love is the greatest gift we can give someone, including ourselves. I’m going to lead with love, in the world and with myself. I’m gonna try some tenderness. In the end, all that matters is how we love people, and that includes ourselves. I want love to win in my life, and in yours. Let’s be love warriors…starting now. I’ll go first….