Paul Lennon Getting a Life After the Legion of Christ
I am Alive, I give Thanks, I Rejoice
Saturday, September 2, 2023
Tuesday, July 25, 2023
Thursday, April 15, 2021
Thursday, February 27, 2014
"I will win, I will lose" by Mario Frangoulis sung magnificently in Italian
When you are in a safe group for a long time - I was in the Legion of Christ for 23 years. In a certain sense it is easier to remain there. The prospect of so many changes, challenges and risks is threatening, even immobilizing. The temptation to "play is safe", the fear of making a mistake, often freezes you.
That is why I like this song: life is a series of decisions, you win some and you lose some; hopefully, you are striving to be your real self, not the self someone or something else wants for you, or trying to be someone else... And funny enough, that real self is very close, or the same, as the one God wants for you -because he created you as an individual, a unique being... and free, to find your own way. You may have been listening to false prophets, false teachers, people who thought they knew "what is better for you", or even wanted to manipulate you, abuse you, use you for their goals... Wow, now that's scary!
Ah, but you have to be quiet to listen to your real self and become aware of the sirens calling to you from the shadows; and that, my dear friend, is not easy!
[link to YouTube]
"In the dreams I dreamed as a child
I lived my life as a king
My days were filled with sunshine
and there was never any pain
I will win, I will lose
I will live my life,
I will make my way on my own.
I will win, I will lose
I will create my own path
I will play the game of life
I've had brief moments of joy,
Endless moments of boredom,
I had days full of sunshine,
I know what pain is..."
[BUT REMEMBER, IT ALL SOUNDS BETTER SUNG IN ITALIAN BY MARIO FRANGOULIS]
Marios Frangoulis + Lyrics
Nei sogni che facevo da bambino
vivevo la mia vita come un re,
avevo giorni pieni di sole,
non c'era mai dolore.
Vincero, perdero
la mia vita vivro,
io da solo dovro camminare.
Vincero, perdero
la mia strada faro,
giochero la partita della vita.
Ho avuto brevi attimi di gioia,
momenti interminabili di noia,
ho avuto giorni pieni di sole,
io so cos'e il dolore...
Vincero, perdero
la mia vita vivro,
io da solo sapro continuare.
Vincero, perdero
la mia strada ora so,
ma da solo giochero la partita della mia vita.
Un re, io certo non saro,
eppure io vivro...
Vincero, perdero
luci ed ombre io avro,
ma da solo dovro continuare.
Vincero, perdero
la mia vita sara
come un viaggio lontano da fare.
Vincero, perdero
la mia vita vivro,
io da solo dovro camminare.
Vincero, perdero
la mia strada ora so...
Vincero, perdero
la partita giochero...
Vincero, perdero
ma da solo...
----
I Will Win, I Will Lose
Tuesday, January 14, 2014
Monday, December 30, 2013
Legion of Christ History Background: the Cristeros in Mexico 1930s
Legion of Christ history will always refer to the part of Mexico where Fr. Maciel was born, the state of Michoacan, a traditionally very Catholic, even militantly Catholic area which rose up in arms against the injust laws of President Calles in the late 1920s. Fr. Maciel was born in 1920 so during his youth he was aware of this "resistance movement", there is even a photo of Maciel with a sombrero and pistols thought it could have been from a photo studio. Anyway, here is the history less from a wonderful Catholic History series.
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Wednesday, December 11, 2013
A Christmas Childhood by Irish Poet Patrick Kavanagh
I hope you like this as much as I do:
And please note how he mentions the Lennons!!!
The melodion is a small accordion popular in Ireland
A CHRISTMAS CHILDHOOD
My father played the melodion
Outside at our gate;
There were stars in the morning east;
And they danced to his music.
Across the wild bogs his melodion called
To Lennons and Callans.
As I pulled on my trousers in a hurry
I knew some strange thing had happened.
Outside in the cow-house my mother
Made the music of milking;
The light of her stable-lamp was a star
And the frost of Bethlehem made it twinkle.
A water-hen screeched in the bog,
Mass-going feet
Crunched the wafer-ice on the pot-holes,
Somebody wistfully twisted the bellows wheel.
My child poet picked out the letters
On the grey stone,
In silver the wonder of a Christmas townland,
The winking glitter of a frosty dawn.
Cassiopeia was over
Cassidy's hanging hill,
I looked and three thin bushes rode across
The horizon - the Three Wise Kings.
An old man passing said:
"Can't he make it talk" -
The melodion, I hid in the doorway
And tightened the belt of my box-pleated coat.
I nicked six nicks on the door-post
With my penknife's big blade -
There was a little one for cutting tobacco.
And I was six Christmases of age.
My father played the melodion,
My mother milked the cows,
And I had a prayer like a white rose pinned
On the Virgin Mary's blouse.
Read more: http://www.irishcentral.com/roots/Patrick-Kavanagh-poem----A-Christmas-Childhood-in-Ireland-112447954.html#ixzz2nBbBeN6O
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Labels:
Childhood Christmas,
Ireland,
Patrick Kavanagh
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