"Stay Mentally Tight"

"I arise today
Through the strength of heaven:
Light of sun,
Radiance of moon,
Splendour of fire,
Speed of lightning,
Swiftness of wind,
Depth of sea,
Stability of earth,
Firmness of rock.

from THE DUBLIN SAGA  by Edward Rutherfurd

It's football season - get your game on - GO HUSKIES! 

"Stay mentally tight and physically loose." A quote from the Uiversity of Washington coaching staff.

Madden Game Day

When I see the Madden 13 game display or an advertisement  for it on TV, I say a prayer of gratitude for my Dad, Earl Madden.  Even though John worked hard to earn everything he has achieved, I still feel that our father set things in motion by providing opportunities and possibilities (see previous blogs regarding the Daly City Red Sox).

Our Dad was the original gamer.  It wasn't unusual for him to host a horseshoe tournament in the backyard, a basketball game in the side yard, and a poker game in the dining room all in the same day.  The events were well attended with even the parish priests vying for victory.

So, I'm grateful for my Dad and proud of my brother.   Life is good, isn't it?

Political Correctness

I'm tired of political correctness.  I actually think it's immoral to tell lies just because it's what people want to hear.  When people demand that you act according to their rules or expectations, if you acquiesce, you change who you really are.  Suddenly, the real you is not good enough.  You lose self-esteem.  Your belief system is challenged.  You fail yourself. 

Rude Day

I was shopping at Trader Joe's recently and I felt prompted to declare it "RUDE DAY!"  What is it with these women who cut in front of you using their shopping cart as  a weapon?  What has happened to human grace and decency?  Are people just too lazy to say excuse me?  Are we still human or have we fallen into a state of disregard, each for the other?

Photo Cop

Here's what makes me feel really grouchy:  A few  months ago I received  2 speeding tickets in 8 minutes.  How did that happen?  Photo Cop!  I was appalled.

This is entrapment.  I was driving 28 MPH in a 35 zone.  Even though school was out and there wer e no children to be seen or even cars in the parking lot.  School had been dismissed and cleared out for at least 30 minutes, but the city timed the caution light to continue  long past its' need and the school zone became 20 mph.

I received, by mail, 2 tickets coming from and going to the gas station to the tune of  $440.

What a joke!  This is just a sneaky  and frankly unconstitutional (my opinion)  endeavor to increase the cities' income. 

It's no wonder people feel alienated  by government.  We pay property tax, income tax, and here in Federal Way, an exorbitant sales tax that actually sends local shoppers to other cities.

To me, it's a crime akin to theft.  By adding Photo Cop we have returned to medieval political order, over-taxed as we are.  It's literally  "highway robbery."  Where is Robin Hood when we need him?

Spend Your Energy

I find it difficult to tolerate the term, pet peeve.  What's a peeve?  (To make resentful or complaint).  So, it's a cliche' for your favorite complaint.

Why don't we just say:  "Things that piss you off" and here's one from me"

Why do parents allow their children to run screaming through supermarkets?   Recently, I saw six children running through Fred Meyer, playing with the toys and jumping on the beds in the linen department.

For God's sake, please, take your children to the park and let them play, breathe the fresh air, spend all that energy.

In Federal Way we have Celebration Park, West Hylebos State Park, Steel Lake Park;  and Dash Point State Park (Puget Sound Waterfront) along with lots of neighborhood parks.

Have mercy on these children.  Buy them a kite at  Fred Meyer and let them fly.

Time

The passage of time compares to opposites like sun on ice sickles; hot and cold; winter in summer.  Time is not marching to seasons, but rather, the power of energy.

Life is a maze of obstacles from birth to wisdom - a painful and powerful path.

Madden Talent

I crashed five cars by the time I was 19 years old.  Apparently, there was a learning curve illusive to me.  It was a bit of a surprise since I was born into an

athletic family, you know, coordinated people.  I assumed I   would be highly talented and athletically gifted.  My Father, Earl Madden, was a rodeo champion.  He raced cars at the El Dora Speedway in Iowa, and was a pretty good shot (guns I mean).  My brother, John Madden, played baseball, football, basketball, golf, and wrestled.  He's in the football Hall of Fame.

My sister, Mary Delores, was the png pong champion at Sequoia High School in Redwood City, California.  She was a ferocious  competitor.

By the time I was in high school, John was coaching the Oakland Raiders and I was crashing cars.  I'm more mature now.  I haven't been involved in a car accident in several years, but I still haven't found my talent.

Madden Consequences

 My Dad, Earl Madden, taught me how to live my life guilt free.  "Always tell the truth and you'll never have trouble sleeping."  That was one of his favorite sayings.

We made a pact when I was very young, probably around five or possibly earlier.  There would never be consequences for transgressions if I always told him the truth.  This man, who I absolutely adord, kept his word.  He was so worthy of  trust.  He never let me down.

I was never punished, not because I was perfect.  Believe me, I made mistakes just like every other kid, but I never lied to my Dad.

He taught me the value of honesty.  I will forever feel grateful for having this man in my life.

Priestess Prayer

Happy birthday to me.  I celebrated this day by attending a Junior Achievement  event at a waterfront home in Medina.  We dined on the dock while a group played bluegrass music in the background.   I felt inspired to write a prayer:

The wind brings a message of change.  Trees bow to the weather - the air is cleared of pollen and poor energy remnants.  A chance for believing, the wind leads the way for clear critical thinking.  Thoughts are new - possibilities  rendered - the Universe talks to me.

Cat Training

I have been, of late, engaged in training my cat, Franklin (see picture).  He is a fairly recent addition to our family, a rescue from the Bellevue Animal Shelter.

He's timid, a real "scaredy cat", gentle, sweet, and has become a bit of a "Mama's Boy".  He sits up like a mier cat and watches the birds dance around their feeder in the backyard.  He folows me around the house like a little shadow .  I can see his smile even though I know cats don't smile.  I can hear him say thank you even though I know he can't talk.

He loves it when I sing to him.  Franklin doesn't seem to notice that I have no talent.

After dinner he snuggles with me on the couch and sucks on his "blankie" while I pet him.  His eyes tell me that he misses his Mom.  I console him with promises to always care for him.  I feel his gratitude.

He is hyper-vigilant in such a way that I believe he may have suffered trauma before Cailin and I found him in the shelter.  I have promised him he will heal. 

Wailing

Agnes (see previous blogs regarding my Grandmother and Purgatory) was an Irish Wailing Woman.  She was invited to funerals and paid a fee to sit in the back of the room to scream in a high-pitched voice thus scaring the evil spirits away.  The soul of the faithful departed was then free to travel to it's destination.  It was believed that Agnes could keep souls out of Hell, which is probably why she was so popular. 

According to my mother, Mary Margaret Flaherty Madden, Agnes traveled all over Minnesota by train to perform at funerals for people she never met.  My Mom attended some of these ceremonies and she told me it was absolutely embarrassing.

When I researched this phenomenon, I learned that wailing dates back to Egypt during the time of Cleopatra, approximately 48 BC.  The custom was also practiced in Ireland and among some Native American tribes in Minnesota and Canada at about the same time.

My Mom told me that Agnes tried to teach the skill to her as this ability was historically passed from Mother to daughter in the Callery family for generations.  Mom refused.

Callery was Agnes Flaherty's maiden name.

Searching for Truth

Today I saw the movie:  "Ruby Sparks."   I thought it was outstanding.  What initially seemed to be a silly premise evolved into a great think piece prompting questions like:  What is possible?  Is what you believe the truth?  Does the truth belong to yor or must it coincide with what others' believe to qualify for validity?  If we adopt the beliefs of  others, are we free to create something new?

On  another note, I want to continue my Madden Family story with an explanation of my spiritual world.  My Grandmother, Agnes Flaherty, was a paid professional Irish Wailing Woman.  She was hired to mourn at funerals.  I understand she knew how to keep evil spirits away as the soul travels to its' designated  space.  According to the stories, she knew how to protect  the faithful departed during it's 3-day journey.

More tomorrow.

Madden Truth Again

So, the truth belongs to those who believe it.  What we know depends on our life experiences and ability to  process information.  We base our decisions on the facts or fiction we've stored in our brains.  New information is compared to that for validity. (See previous blog regarding "Meditations to Change Your Brain).

When my Mother, Mary Margaret Flaherty Madden, and my Grandmother, Agnes Flaherty, said  they heard a banshee (see  August 11 blog) howl  and saw the banshee burn mark, I believe them because they saw what they believed they could see.  They never said they saw a banshee.

Has anyone ever seen a banshee in Minnesota?

Madden Truth

Growing up in the Madden family encompassed  decoding gradations of the truth.  For example, my Grandmother, Agnes Flaherty (see previous blogs regarding Purgatory), told me the story of hearing a banshee howl a signal of the death of a family member.  The following morning she found her 32-year-old son, Joe, dead in his room at the boarding house she owned in Austin, Minnesota.  She described  the banshee burn mark outside his bedroom window.

The interesting part of the story is that my Mother, Mary Margaret Flaherty Madden, said she saw it too.

Tales of banshees date back to the pre-Christian era in Ireland when the Druids were believed to have highly evolved   spiritual powers of communication.

So, when two people tell the same story, does that equal the truth?

Spiritual Connections

I'm interested in bringing my thoughts to a higher level.  I meditate every night and have for more years than I can count, but a good estimate would be over 25 years. I have been a student of yoga and world religions.  I have a degree in History with graduate credits in accounting  

The Madden Oracle

According to my daughter, Cailin, my Dad, Earl Madden was an "Oracle."  Even though my children never met their Grandfather, I have honored his memory by telling them stories from my childhood.

My Dad found racism to be abhorrent; he believed  that spanking was child abuse.  He felt that  children   children should play rather than being indentured to their parents' extensive household chores.  He believed that acquiring an education wasn't everything.  It was "the only thing." 

This was in the 1950s before many of these views were popular.

So, an Oracle is  "one held to give divinely inspired answers or revelations."

That's my Dad.      

Madden Honor

I  s uppose that I realized I was poor when we moved and I attended a public school.  In the Catholic school, the uniform was the great equalizer.  In the public school, a child wearing clothes from a thrift  store sat next to a child wearing clothes purchased at Nordstrom, or in my case, in California, I and J Magnin,  possibly Saks.

I found the display of opulence distracting.  Coming from a school where you were honored for your intellectual capabilities  and going to a school where you were honored for your appearance was an upside down world for me.

Living in Daly City  I felt everyone knew me.  I was John Madden's sister, aka:  the baby, and Earl Madden's daughter.  John played several sports including football, baseball, basketball, discus and  golf in a time when you just played sports for fun.  Dad coached baseball, was a volunteer umpire, and single-handedly visited every merchant in town soliciting donations for snacks  for The Daly City Red Sox.  In my mind, I was famous.

So, it was with an abudance of confidence that I assumed my rightful place as the best student in my class wearing the ugliest clothes.  Success is all in your attitude.

Madden Normal

So, what's normal?  Normal to me may seem odd to you because our life experiences differ.

Madden normal was sleeping on the floor.  Brushing my teeth with baking soda when we ran out of toothpaste was normal.  Wearing second-hand or even third- hand to the rag stage was normal for me.

My addled Grandmother, Agnes, going door-to-door in her blue chenille bathrobe asking neighbors if they had her teeth was normal.  Frequently, she had to be escorted home since she didn't remember where she lived.

Living in poverty was normal in Daly City.  It was a neighborhood thing.  Everyone was struggling.  We all seemed to be the same, no one was better, no one was rich.  We were all, in my point of view, equal.I rather liked it that way.

But, when we moved 25 miles south to Redwood City, I no longer felt normal.  I discovered that children on welfare had nicer clothes than I did.  How did that happen? 

Playing Hurt Madden Style

The Madden family was Irish, Catholic, and competitive.  When you pair competition with religion the result was a race to mass on Sunday.

Growing up in Daly City I shared a double size bed with my mother and my sister, Mary Delores.  I can remember, if I slept on the outside of the threesome, I frequently fell on the floor.  When you're little,  things like  this really don't phase you.    It all seemed so normal to wake up on the floor.  I usually slept in the middle, but if I had to go to the bathroom, my mom and Mary Delores roled to the middle because the mattress  sagged.  .

We bought it at The Salvation Army. The Madden family seldom bought anything new except for John's clothes.  The Salvation Army and Goodwill didn't have a big and tall department.  John had to go to San Francisco for his clothes because of his size.

So, back to the bed, when I returned from the bathroom  I ended up sleeping on the outside and woke up on the floor.  Falling out of bed is an example of "Playing Hurt, Madden Style."

Earl Madden Continued

My dad, Earl Madden, taught me so much about conduct, like maintaining eye contact and holding my head high.  He taught me how to handle a bully. "look them in the eye and tak one step forward."  In other words, show no fear..  He was my hero, truely a good man.

He organized and coached a neighborhood baseball team for my brother, John, and his friends.  "The Daly City Red Sox" eventually evolved into a league in the pre-Little League era.  Dad even paid for their uniforms and equipment,  though my mother objected..        

"We can pay now for sorts equipment or we can spend the money on a lawyer to get the kids out of jail when they're older."

It was my favorite line from my father and I think it rings true today.  (I should note here that we lived in a pretty tough neighborhood.)

Maddens continue tomorrow.....