Is Heaven for everyone?

100131 08:16
I am saved.
And the truth of my salvation is what I write to suggest as available to all people.
Yet there is a special dedication, of mine, to those, who like me, were schooled in agony, rejected, abandoned, despised and lived alone in desolation.
We do not live, we survive in a barrenness of subsistence. To presume because we are not dead--yet--that we live, have being, value and long to be loved is false. What I have come to sense is the evil of waste.
The more I acknowledge and accept my addictions, the greater becomes my empathy and acceptance of that choice in others to adorn their lives with sex, money, power, celebrity, rape and violence.
In a sincere sense we are all criminals against Humanity; as I once was against myself. Empathy is endless; in order to have validity/truth in me I must be both victim and victimizer.
If Jesus and Dietrich Bonhoeffer forgave those who persecuted and assassinated them then I must forgive myself for doing the same to all my Self. For me it is to forget the pain and remember only the joy now that was given me by those against whom I railed, was enraged with, and imagined destroying. So dependent was I upon their definitions of me as unworthy of life or love I could not conceive of simply stepping back or forward in any issue of conflict and saying “Thank You!” As elastic as I have become, I know God to be infinitely more so.
If I am unwilling, unable or not allowed to question the choices of authority, including the validity of God, then I am equally disabled from accepting them. I am a victim of no one; and less so of myself.
In this moment I wonder how I came to be myself as I am now. The first image was of a nest of baby birds, probably pigeons, at my four-year-old feet. Their beaks a yawing rictus of hunger their eyes sealed in death. If ET rode home on a bicycle with a newspaper delivery persons basket in front, then I began my journey upon a red tricycle then. I had a life alone and I loved it, but lost it in the house(s) of others who I attempted to attach with who did not nor ever could, in this lifetime, love themselves. When I said, thought or asked for love it was merely a request to fill the yawing abyss of my self then. My sins of commission or omission have been reconciled and my love is my truth given without expectation of reward. I suggest that such salvation is yours for the asking but there is one caveat you can only give it away.
. . . I wept when my children died and begrudged the wisdom of “Suffer the little children to come unto me.” Only in my dotage can accept that I too am a child to all that is whole, true and love.
There are two other requests made by me of the Universe at Large: “every falling leaf is significant” and the ideal “we/I must grow large enough to receive love” . . . I am well aware of the subtext: “God.”
What we are, or can be, is a before, during and after, what we call life.
What I recommend cannot be found in any form, or construct, of divination--all, to me--are merely about and not Truth as Love.
To know and love yourself, as you are, is to enter the only thing we can change in life, ourselves. And change is the only true constant in all the universe. . . . so call me the suicide bomber of love. . . .my only salvation is found here and now through the choice to do no harm. Tell that to the banana I had for breakfast!?
Yeah. I do talk to plants and have gratitude for their sacrifice that I remain vertical for another day.

"There is no way to peace peace is the way" --Thich Nhat Hanh

100117 05:53
Obvious to me is that I do not prize my life, I was taught not to. Yet for you, dear reader, I would go to any length that you love yourself. You, to me, are holy, and never intended to fail life as created unique, precious, specific and explicit in you.
The subtext in this is the question-postulation poised by Jesus: “Love your enemy . . . “ At first hearing I was overwhelmed by their number and I reacted with fear and rage wanting to destroy not only them but myself in violence. I gave to them the privilege of choice, the time, place and ground, the issues and intentions theirs not mine. it appears I’ve backed into a foundation of knowing myself as worthy of love and existence no longer self-loathing or confused by “YOU” messages. I now sense that few would attempt the folly now since I no longer cringe and blink but evaluate their need, greed and intention in telling me what they are fearful of in themselves.
In my estimate fear is the primary dysfunction, and waste the greatest evil of all mankind. Power at its greatest example--God--empowers and destroys nothing.
In a certain sense I see us in the Garden of Eden making a dung heap of it. We are killing ourselves wholesale with numbers increasing daily and soon to be defeated by our own vanity.
Despite the many sorrows and agonies, my life has been good and getting better, yet I recognize that what I leave behind has little to offer the generations to follow and they will bear the sin/waste of my choice in this time.
The “powers” in this world have a poverty of moral and ethical values that would destroy everything in greed to assure continuance of the status quo: we win, you lose.
"There is no way to peace peace is the way" --Thich Nhat Hanh
Between the ideal and real is the difference between making peace with yourself. To love yourself begins with acceptance, the forgiveness of all who for whatever reason mislead you, and then to forgive yourself for accepting it as justice.
. . . after thought 100121: Of the greatest and most wealthy in any field of endeavor I have know extreme poverty in them and myself.

. . . as I immolate myself?

091224 00:56
If I sleep as the dead, I sleep enough in one or more hours, to spend the rest of my day in whatever concerns me. Too little the chores, housekeeping and personal hygiene, shaving at the keyboard and eating as well.
I am at peace, my personal trials, regarding what I wrote yesterday, affirmed so many times over, it is ridiculous to mention the facts. I could, but refuse to deconstruct, the surprise and splendor . . . ask and you will receive.
There were other discoveries regarding my bodily abuse. And I wonder how long I will last, surprised, I don’t care.
Annie is keeping me alive. Who will take care of her when I am gone, gladly so, no longer engaged; the chaos of Congress, the agenda’s of avarice, and concern for the future of mankind.
At this moment, and others, I see myself a road-flare burning at both ends and middle soon extinguished; in the desert far from sight save the audience of truth.
Why?
Last Christmas I longed it to be my last. I wanted to simply die at the turning from longest night to the next longer day. It is not only Annie keeping me here, there is another, The Other, always with us. Silent, holding the stars in their courses, enveloping the entire Cosmos.
Could I be nurture, as found in communion, the Body and Blood, I would.
Yet there are events in life far worse than death. I am retrospectively considering the poverty of all women enslaved and without dignity, involuntarily. And I am satisfied with standing up for them in the face of those who, otherwise, would render them breeding stock for cannon fodder.
“If you want peace, work for justice.”
Cannot, at the moment remember the Pope, but am curious, did he intend that equality for woman be the first injustice remedied?
Laws are remedial, yet the Love potential in loving equally, both genders, combined, or exclusive of one another, will, I believe, heal the world before it is too late.
I was marooned as a child, yet saved by the abandonment. Desolation is my home in chaos. I weep not for myself, now, yet for all others, especially the AIDS orphans of Africa and those homeless this Christmas as well. Of children at war, well, I wish they would simply lay aside their weapons and embrace one another in the family of mankind and get on with life. So I do pray for both sides of every issue.
How can I serve them, except with these paltry words, burning in the night, as I immolate myself?