The Madcaps (Dedicated to Frida Kahlo) by Devi Nina Bingham

I wish to speak openly and plainly to those innocent souls who find themselves persecuted for being only who they are. Those who were given a certain skin color and nationality at birth yet demonized because of the cultural heritage they bring. They call it "assimilation," meaning that you are not to abide by your own way of being, but to talk and look like a white American. To assimilate is to repress whatever may threaten their way of life, though never did you harbor rebellious intentions. You were bringing a different flavor of perspectives and experiences and were shocked when your gift was rejected. It was not only your way of life which was marked as erroneous, but you yourself, and this was the biggest surprise. Your person was deemed inferior, and your familial history was marked as suspect, even dangerous. Beloved history, telling of your family's struggle to survive was used as evidence that you were a product of weak genetics and an inferior work ethic. 

These criticisms amounted to making you feel less than, what you had never felt before, since your family had always loved and cherished you. Having been assigned this marker of sub-human, you trudge through life with your head down and your eyes lowered. You would rather follow than lead because you do not wish to stand apart from the crowd anymore than you already do. Your confidence has taken a beating, and you only feel safe at home. It is to these souls which I speak, for I have experienced the societal disparage which I describe. What is most unsettling about attempts to force assimilation is that it has never stopped. Racial profiling is as American as apple pie and the 4th of July. Prejudice is woven deep into the fabric of American society, as is the idea of eugenics, the belief that one set of features is superior. Of course, the eugenicists are white, and according to them the blonder your hair is, the purer you are. However, humans began with dark features which are considered sub-human by Arians, which means of course that your ancestors were like mine; we are one big family whose genes have been mixed up over the march of time but still, genetically speaking, we all from the same seed. In truth, there is no superior race, there is only our race. This begs the question: how does humanity, splintered into groups with differing physical and cultural characteristics, acknowledge our sameness? There was one during my lifetime that attempted to eradicate the differences by extermination, the "final solution." The end game was to crush the poor, unfortunate, and the immigrant. What stopped this madness? Nations fought together against this great foe. In the process, many brilliant and creative souls perished, and literature and art were destroyed. Anything of beauty which would inspire was stolen and hidden, or demolished. Because where there is hate, truth and beauty will not be tolerated. The goal is to root out all those who will not serve the regime with a genuflect loathing of themselves. 

What to do about the latest round of fascism, those who say they speak for God though God is father to us all? Those who boast holiness in public while in secret make dark deals that betray even children? In order to remedy the division, opposite force must be used. Nations must come together, locking arms to stand against the aggressor. There is no other way, for a madman will never admit that he is mad, nor will he step down peaceably. Madmen want one prize over all, which is power. The power-hungry tyrant will never step away from his tyrannical throne. History shows that these must be torn down. Peaceful protests will not move them, only a threat to their own existence. Until this happens tyranny will reign. I am not advocating violence, only as a last resort. These are dangerous times that are only an echo of worse times. Look to history to show the way. 

To the intellectual and artist: they will target you because you dare to speak out. They will denounce you as a liberal when you use logic and science. From one artist to another, I would say to be as stealthy as you can and stay out of the limelight. But continue to research, to write, to paint and sculpt, to act and dance, and to make music, though the madcaps will denounce your art as useless. To them, creativity and beauty is useless for it does not make them money. But it contributes greatly to the happiness of society, what they care nothing for. They do not value happiness, they value productivity. To hell with happiness. In their world, turn the sky gray and lifeless with smoke from the atom bomb, and may the rays of the sun never shine again. So low are the dark and depraved thoughts of their minds. While the artist will toil all day to give the world even a scrap of hope, the madcaps are scheming to bring more terror and destruction. Based on this, who then are God's chosen? The ones who bring death, the proprietors of misery, or those who bring mercy and hope?

When you see people gone mad, meaning that they have traded their souls for money, cruelty will be their calling card. Ask yourself: Is what they are doing unjust? If the answer is yes, there you have a madcap. Justice becomes a weapon by which they excuse cruelty. They will make everyone's life much harder and still they will be hailed by their malevolent followers. Know that you cannot follow evil without taking a part of that evil into yourselves. It will seem to you that sanity and decency has flown, and like a virus insanity has invaded their minds, for they smile at ruthlessness and applaud horrific acts in the name of God and progress. This has been so since the dawn of time; there have been madcaps in every age. Usually, they are in positions of power by bullying their way to the top. 

I tell you, try not to despair because in the end they will die or be defeated. Evil cannot triumph over good. Cruelty never triumphs over mercy. The better angels always win; it is only a matter of time. Take a breath and know that there is a force in this world which can be counted upon in every man, woman, and child who has not given themselves over to evil, which will rise up to defend knowledge and beauty, the two pillars of society. The madness is temporary and eventually, help will be on its way. Until then, persist in truth, knowledge, and beauty. 

With Love,

Frida

Frida the Reconstructed (Dedicated to Frida Kahlo) by Devi Nina Bingham

The systems of this world are corrupt and therefore, broken. Like my body, which had so many fractures; my spine, the column that supported the entire structure had been cracked too many times to reassemble. I wore supportive braces beneath my dresses so no one would suspect that I was an unfortunate accident. Yes, I became the accident and not the victim while still a young and carefree girl whom life had not yet corrupted, the sacrificial lamb, so that in adulthood I was little more than brokenness and sorrow. Never did I smile for the cameras, for the joy and innocence of youth faded after the second great accident, that of my marriage.

I did not marry for convenience as many women of my time were known to do. I thought it reprehensible for a woman to give herself to a man she cared little for in exchange for his financial support. To me, it was like selling one's most intimate secrets for pennies on the dollar. But I was a lowly woman in my own way. Though I married for love, which I considered the highest ideal, it came at a high price. Whether for love or convenience, the institution of marriage exacts its pound of flesh. It requires each one to set aside their own wants and needs and to consider the other first. Not many people are really prepared for such a sacrifice. I watched my parents set aside their dreams to care for their children, so I understood it. Thus, in my marriage I became the sacrificial lamb. I reasoned that if I came second, he would love me more. And if I kept silent, I could not steal his limelight, though his art had enjoyed much more acclaim than my own by this time. And this is how I lowered myself. I dimmed my light so that his would rise. In this way I lowered myself. I would caution you that there is never a circumstance in which your voice or talent should be traded for another's, because yours is a unique and necessary gift. I am not encouraging divorce, for it will tear your heart out. If you can stay together and still sing your individual song, you should. But men especially take it hard when a woman's accomplishments eclipse theirs, especially a lover. In this case, it is better to go your separate ways rather than cheat the whole world out of your talent to save one man's ego.

I never wanted to be Frida Kahlo the Mexican icon who strangers confess their love for, and devotion to; not at first, anyway. Now I do not mind if they worship at the fount of Frida. Like the dear virgin, my presence is at Casa Azul as it must be, for who else will attend to the prayers and good wishes murmured by adoring fans? But today my ego is not fed as it was when I was Frida the Reconstructed. Then I needed every stroke, being terrifically incomplete. I was isolated by my illness, and lonely; my body in tatters and my heart shredded and paper-thin. I needed to hear that I was brilliant, that I had triumphed and gotten the last laugh. But had I? I managed to stitch together a portrait of Frida made of paint, and she spoke from the canvas because the real me had fallen silent. Frida the Reconstructed had no more heart, for it had been ripped out. Thus, I painted two hearts connected, The Two Fridas. And between the whole and incomplete me, I became the icon. 

Do you understand? Sometimes one must build a likeness of themselves so they can keep going. For if you present yourself as you really are, on the inside, you would be called a bore, and self-possessed. But wasn't I self-possessed when my topic was always myself? This was because I dared not express how it felt to be the real me. Nobody wanted to hear that said aloud. They only wished to hear stories of the phoenix rising from the ashes. Thus, I created a public me who smirked and smoked, a tougher version me who laughed only at irony. For life was and is ironic, making little sense when added up, but costing a trusting soul everything. 

What am I saying about The Two Fridas? That everyone has two sides to them, and they build the second out of necessity. In marriage you will inevitably see the dark side. You will be shocked at how different your spouse is from what the world sees. Your beloved will appear to you as the sun being eclipsed by a storm cloud. You may wish to tell others how different your spouse is from what the world sees but dare not. For if you revealed all of them there would be no mystery. And every person must keep their mask. It protects what hurts the most, as a turtle's shell does. Only keep this in mind, that it is wiser not to touch that part, the stormy part, the tucked-in part. You may hug the child who suffers within them, but best to not call it out. It takes sensitivity to walk around someone's faults, to observe as they struggle against themselves, but it is their struggle. Their life is theirs alone and brave no effort of the best intentioned can save them. You must walk on. Will they ever see how much you cared, how you only thought about them and longed to take their hand? Perhaps not in this lifetime. This is the disappointment, the bitterness of love. That you wished to walk hand-in-hand through life when they could not offer the same. Therefore, promises made are foolish. You cannot promise what you do not have, though they did. This is why I say that marriage is a trap. It catches you in unrealistic promises, usually that neither can keep though your intentions are rock-solid. 

Now my admirers do not make any promises, and I prefer it that way. Come and worship at the Fount of Frida for a day, or even a moment as you gaze at what became my fate. I always hoped that you would see some of yourself in my paintings. Perhaps the furrowed unibrow or the pursed lips; the incisions and the blood flowing mixed with the tears. And above all the heart pulled out and suspended like an offering. However you choose to relate to my life, my suffering, you are right. There are no wrong answers, only more questions, which is the beauty of abstraction. It is whatever you say it is. But however you relate to Frida the Reconstructed, remember that I am not she. For after death, which is not death at all, you become what you wished to be on earth but could not. Your idealized self, the not-broken you, the whole soul steps forward and claims the broken you. Then the parts broken and scattered in the wind make what was intended to be you but because of pain, could not be. Thus, I am not that broken woman anymore, the woman of many sorrows. Nor am I any nationality or tradition. All those trappings are forgotten in an instant, as the storm clouds clear away. What remains is a blazing light as bright as the sun which twinkles like the stars. You will light your own way, glowing and pulsing with new hope and courage. 

This is your ultimate destiny, my reconstructed friend. For now, wear your mask and your heart on your sleeve, and cry tears for the tower within which was busted. It seems such a waste now, all your love gone to waste. It seems hopeless now, because nobody can put it all back together. Maybe it needs to fall apart, spectacularly. Let it fall apart, because life always regenerates, haven't you noticed? It always comes back together, given enough time. We were all towers, broken down and busted. One day you will join me, Frida the Reconstructed, Twice: once on earth, again at death. The second time it will all make sense.

With Love, 

Frida

 

The Law of Supply and Demand (Dedicated to Frida Kahlo) by Devi Nina Bingham

There are only two ways to get what you want. Whether it is finding love, financial success, or anything else, there are only two paths that will lead you to it. The first way is known to all of you, it is how everyone in the world has been taught to obtain success, and that is to work hard for it. Sure, inheritances are given because someone else worked for it and has enough to share with you. In this case, you do not earn it. The second way, as compared to the world's way, may seem fanciful or impossible to the one who has never tried it. And, while there is nothing wrong with earning and spending, the second method, dubbed the Cosmos' way, is considerably preferable since it is practically spontaneous. You can conjure whatever you want with the flick of a finger, just like magic. I hope this will interest you enough to give it some thought, and to apply it. 

Have you ever met someone who somehow summons what they need when they need it without having to buy it? These folks desire something, and it emerges without any effort or intervention from them. What is their secret? Are they special, more deserving than you? If you talk to these folks, they will tell you that everything they need always appears, and that they do not work or try for it. They reach out their hands, just like a hungry child, and the food was delivered to them, that simple. Logic says that if it works for one individual, it will work for you as well. What does this individual do that you don't? Why does the Universe pay attention to those who do not believe in God, yet your prayers go unanswered? They believe in a metaphysical rule, not in God. You see, there are spiritual principles at work that apply to everyone equally. The rule of gravity applies to everyone, regardless of who they are or what their beliefs about God are.

Similarly, there are metaphysical rules that your religion, or lack thereof, cannot affect, and you have unknowingly used them before. They are fixed and unchanging, as solid and real as the visible physical laws. You may do an experiment to demonstrate the influence of gravity by dropping an apple into your hand (or on your head, as Sir Isaac Newton did). However, metaphysical rules exist in an etheric level. This means that they operate at a greater or lower frequency than the one you are now experiencing. A dog can hear pitches that you cannot, and you see in color, but the dog sees in black and white. This is because nature provided you with everything you needed to perform correctly. You were both created with the sensory faculties necessary to complete the task at hand. Evolution has given you the qualities of a human. You did not have to work for these adaptations; they arrived as a result of not just evolution, but also of your karma, which brought you here. But now is not the time for a discussion about karma; that is for another day. I am pointing out that while it may seem coincidental that certain people get what they want when they want it, it is not. Whether consciously or unconsciously, they are making use of metaphysics. 

I'll name it the Law of Supply and Demand. In order for the Cosmos, or the creative Cosmic Force, to respond, a demand must be made. You understand that you can't go to a diner and expect the cook to know what you want. No, the cook awaits your order before beginning to prepare your supper. The Cosmos can assemble everything you want or need, but you must request it. Not demand it, since if you take liberties and order the cook around, you are sure to receive anything from his kitchen that you will dislike! Order your desired item from his kitchen politely but confidently. Let me warn you that if you curse someone, the cook could agree with you. The cursed person may deserve unpleasant things, and the cook may inflict the curse. But be aware that whatever calamitous conditions they face, you are accountable for them. You, not the cook, placed the order. Curses exist and can be effective if the chef decides to use them, but you will bear the consequences. This is a negative application of the law. In any case, the cook is obligated to fulfill your request, which begins the minute you make it.

Your meal's cooking time is determined by a variety of factors. You may receive your dinner the same day, or you may have to wait a long time. The length of time it takes for your meal to be served is determined by a combination of the cook's urgency to serve you (remember, he has millions, if not billions, of other orders to fulfill), the other people involved, and the circumstances, which include weather, location, and a variety of mitigating factors. You may have your meal before the end of the day, or you may have to wait a lifetime for it. You will have to be extremely patient because so much is beyond your control. However, if you persist and do not amend your order, the cook is required to give you supper under the Law of Supply and Demand.

But what about these "instant manifestors?" How can these fortunate folks have their wishes fulfilled so quickly? They have mastered one concept, which they employ liberally: never doubt that it will come to you. Speak and act as if it is over, as if you are merely waiting for the parcel, which will arrive at any time. They do not change their opinions. If you are continually changing your mind, the planning must cease, right? That meal is discarded, and a fresh order is initiated. This all consumes precious time. If you truly desire something with your heart and soul, keep asking for it and remain excited that it is on its way. If you tell the cook, "I sure am hungry, and I am so excited for my dinner!" he will be eager to serve it. The Cosmos reacts to your requests, but not if they are selfish ("I deserve it!") or negative or doubtful ("He's never going to cook it"). Only if you trust the cook with your order will it be delivered. Supply and demand is a cooperative law. You must totally collaborate with the cook or the delivery person in order to receive it. Christ referred to this rule as "faith." He asked us to believe in a cosmic metaphysical rule.

I stated this metaphysical truth in the form of a story so that you might grasp it. We've all waited for food when we were extremely hungry, and we know how difficult it is to be patient. When the cook is inundated and the orders are backed up, we may wish to go and make our own meal, and you are welcome to do so! There is nothing wrong with it. It may be faster than waiting. However, there are instances when you need the assistance of a professional chef who can prepare better than you. If this is the case, and you require more assistance, place your order, knowing that it might be a short or lengthy wait. But once it is placed, your order is being processed, and soon you will be the next in line.

With Love, 

Frida

The Truth of Karma (Dedicated to Frida Kahlow) by Devi Nina Bingham

You have a propensity to prepare and save for a rainy day. Since the day may come when the reserves may be required, it is not a bad idea to be ready for the worst. Will you, however, allow me to warn you to balance enjoying life with being ready to care for yourself? When you have finally gathered the necessities, it is time to stop worrying about what lies ahead and what could happen to you. Because no matter how well you prepare, the weather may and probably will take a turn you did not expect. After that, who can you trust? Nobody needs to be your reliance since everyone is busy with their own concerns. In an emergency, it will be every man for himself with most people. Shouldn't you stress, worry, and concern yourself because you will ultimately have to rely only on yourself? One day you may have to depend upon God to provide for you. Yet you dismiss, "Do you expect me to believe that manna is going to rain down from Heaven to feed me?" Yes, I am stating just that. You see, even though believers are instructed to accept the Bible literally, a large portion of it is made up of tales and parables. Indeed, the Bible is a historical record because historians of the time attested to the fact that Jesus was a genuine person who lived on earth, just like you and I. However, it is a text that provides both history and teachings.

The Israelites' desert wanderings are described in the Bible as one of its teachings. For their sustenance, God sent manna from heaven. Regardless of your opinion of the verifiability of this manna, the principle and lesson it teaches is applicable today. You should be able to tell what this narrative is trying to teach you: you will be blessed when you are in need. But because God is not a wish dispensary, there are occasions when prayers go unanswered. God's dispensary is karmic. It distributes whatever is coming to you, but it may not give what you want and ask for. 

"Do children deserve to suffer?" you could ask. Although you might not agree with this response, I never was one to mince words. When pain occurs, it is never uncalled for. This is the response: "Explain how an innocent child deserves to suffer!" To obtain a clear and persuasive explanation, I would need to investigate their previous lives. It might seem reasonable to argue that a child's suffering is unjust. A youngster is too little to cause affliction to other people. A soul, however, could have lived hundreds or thousands of lives. It is OK for those who do not believe in karma to reject this response. You do not have to believe it is oxygen you are breathing to breath it!

Karma, according to some, is a thin pretext for an imaginary God. Well, then, keep on with the belief that there is no creator and no karmic system. Karma is not slowed in the least, and God smiles at objections because breaking the law, even if ignorant of the law, will not remove the consequences. Others ask why God punishes at all if He is love. What happens to a youngster who never receives reprimands? If its acts have no repercussions, does its character develop appropriately? Isn't it a spoilt brat that becomes unbearable as an adult? We are held responsible for our actions so that we can develop and become model students.

Karma is real, my dear friends, and it haunts us until the day we die, and beyond. By beyond, I mean after death. Our actions follow us into the afterlife in the same way that you would carry a bag on a well-earned vacation. Your name appears on the baggage as it rotates in the luggage carousel, but you might not want to claim it since it contains unwanted items. You quickly pass the carousel on your way to Heaven. However, your baggage is waiting for you when you arrive at the bottom of the escalator. "I can't bring this!" is what you think in a panic. "Heaven will not accept me." After stepping around it, your luggage is waiting for you at the top. Since karma is yours, you can't escape it. And eventually you'll need to break it all down and describe what's within. Yes, as they must, our actions haunt us on the other side. We have to learn to take responsibility for the baggage we have produced. Life after life, your bag will be waiting for you, and you keep it with you until it is empty. Once emptied, you will no longer be burdened, which means you will stop incarnating and be able to relax and have fun.

Karmic cycles: how long do they last? Until you've learned the lesson. What do you learn? To accept accountability for your deeds, and to discover who you are. At first glance, this seems simple. You would answer sarcastically, "I always take responsibility for myself." Should we question others about your honesty and transparency? How would they respond? However, the truth has already been recorded and is played back to you, so you don't need to question yourself or anybody else. This should inspire you to live a more enlightened life since you know that karma exists and will be carried over from one incarnation to the next. 

You see, God can punish people without your assistance. They are not getting away with it, despite the appearance that they are. Not at all. All they are doing is postponing the inevitable. They believe the luggage will vanish if they walk around it. Consequently, make an effort to accept accountability for both your positive and negative actions. To lessen karma, one can apologize. It's an indication of humility. If you have a difficult time apologizing, you are pretending. People would want to act as though they are not the issue. And, if they so want, they may continue living in denial forever. But who wants to live in a never-ending circle of suffering for all eternity? 

This letter serves as a reminder that eventually you must face the consequences of your actions. It's like a kid who stole chocolates. It tasted really sweet, and the store owner had no idea. In this world, the business owner might not suspect. However, part of the candy remains in the child's pocket, and something will happen in his next life to level the score--perhaps something will be taken from him. I believe that honesty is the best policy; be honest with yourself and put things right when you can. If you try to make things right but your apology or attempt to reconcile is denied, you are free. You have removed the mark against you. 

You cannot keep karma from accumulating, that is part of life. As long as you are in a body, karma will be nipping at your heels. Simply become more self-aware. Examine your deeds and motives. When you find a crack in your foundation, seek to repair it. If you pretend it is not there, karma will make note of it for later. I have simplified these concepts of spiritual laws so you can easily conceptualize them because simple is good. Simple is me. The truth is always simple, and I have always loved telling the truth.

With Love,

Frida

Spirituality is Simple (Dedicated to Frida Kahlow) by Devi Nina Bingham

"Being spiritual is an existential reality, not a decision. Spirituality is easy; it was never intended to be so difficult. For the believers, customs and regulations are in place. But in actuality, spirituality is not a choice despite what the term "believer" implies. It isn't picked as you would pick a partner, chosen after serious deliberation. This suggests that there are a plethora of varieties and approaches to faith. But even a youngster can comprehend the system since it is so basic. According to Christ, we shall not see the Kingdom of Heaven unless we approach it as children. What does spiritual simplicity then mean?

Take a look at nature; it holds all the mysteries and secrets. Every particle of life contains geometry. Numbers, particularly geometric forms and patterns are present in all sentient beings, even non-sentient materials. Does it not make perfect sense that life itself should have a spiritual blueprint? And what gives life its sentience? Naturally, DNA, the components that make up life. A sperm and an egg combine to form DNA, a genetic code for growth. Your mother gave you half of your special design, and your father gave you the other half. Then your DNA is passed on to your children. This is life: a system which has functioned perfectly as intended for billions of years.

This is precisely how the human family was constructed: a mother and a father, and we are their children. How much more straightforward could it be? Even if you might not consider yourself a child of God, it is comparable to an adopted kid. It thinks the adoptive parents are biological and is unaware of the truth. But a DNA test would reveal the truth in a flash. Without ever questioning our beginnings, we are born to earthly parents. We think that there is no mother in this creation equation, as religion has taught us. But use rationality and logic, I say. Without the egg, it doesn't work. When we hear this truth, it sounds incorrect because religious patriarchy has conditioned us to deny it.

We are all equal because we are offspring of the Gods, regardless of our gender or nationality. This is pure spirituality without the human trappings. Instead of judging their children as superior or inferior, deserving or unworthy, a wise parent recognizes that they are all a part of me and that they are mine. Likewise, all of us are a part of God's family. The idea that you are better than others is an act of rejection of God's method. Being the largest fruit in the garden, the watermelon should be favored, according to this idea that one should dominate another in God's garden. This kind of thinking lacks depth and is uninformed about diversity. With billions of varieties, we are God's garden. Yet we have been divided into genders, groups, forms, and colors. We all belong to the same group-that of human. All of us were sent to this planet with the intention of honoring our parents by getting along with one another. Spirituality is just that. It is not a form of worship; that is a human invention. It's not even the Ten Commandments. What is divine is not decided by sacred texts, prophets, priests, seers, or monarchy. Your DNA is divine.

You are spiritual. The very cells that make up your body are dynamic and part soul, which is spirit. God's mathematical signature is contained within each atom of your biological makeup. In contrast to Christ's teaching that we should look inside, humanity spends its entire existence gazing up and outward. But the truth is engraved in your DNA. Spirituality is a part of who you are. Spirituality is therefore you. It was never external. Therefore, a shrine is disrespected when we treat one another disrespectfully. The Holy Spirit resides inside us; didn't Christ teach us? Furthermore, what is this spirit if not the soul? We have been brainwashed. We have been indoctrinated, divided into different religious groups. Into this and that nation. Into this and that nationality. Into one culture and another. Into one gender and another. Into one sexual orientation and another. Partition, partition, partition. While we are one people under God. Governments and, before them, churches have sold us a policy of separated humanity!

I want you to consider everyone else to be just like you for just one day, even just one hour. But it is almost impossible to look in a straight and accurate manner since our minds are so deceived by what we perceive. However, it is time for us to examine our own behavior and mindset. Are we practicing the idea that every person is a temple, as taught by Christ? Do we treat everyone with the deference they deserve? Are you honoring the divinely created spiritual system? Are you conscious of your divinity, and your deep connection to all people? You should not be religious since God is not religious. Yes, there is no religious preference or allegiance for God. Avoid making things overly complicated. Now realizing that you are a member of a large spiritual family you never have to experience loneliness again. If you remember this truth, you will be free."

With Love,

Frida

Loving the Unattainable (Dedicated to Frida Kahlo) by Devi Nina Bingham

Save the anguish of losing a loved one to death, to love another with your heart and soul who will never return your love is, without a doubt, the worst pain. It is worse because they took themselves from you, whereas the dead had no choice in the matter. Given these facts, one can rightly say that loving someone who is unattainable will cut one's heart the quickest. When your true love forgets you, preferring the company of others, there is no greater betrayal, no deeper cut. If you persist in loving them you become a wound which weeps silently, blood mixed with tears trickling down your sullen, pallid face, for you are chasing shadows. You are devoid of meaning, for love gives us purpose. Your minutes go to waste as you lay crying for them while they gallivant with fair-weather friends and insincere lovers. This sort of love gives more than it takes, losing itself in the memory of the other, a forever kind of pain. If you say to the heartbroken, "Why mourn? Move on," they will obediently nod but think, "If I could have moved on, I would have." You, like I, struggle like some wild thing caught in a steel trap and we slowly bleed. With no way to extricate myself, I accepted my fate. The victim of cruelty so ominous that it overshadowed all of my life. I became conditioned not to admit what was painfully obvious, so I smiled and politely denied the depth of torture I lived in.

There are no answers as to why we try so desperately, giving every last ounce as they take their beautiful person and throw it away. There are no reasons explaining the mystery of why one bleeds and cries while the other cannot shed a tear. And all the while what my beloved was searching for was waiting inside of me, waiting to be discovered. Seldom to never did I realize what I was, nor did he see what he held in his cold and unfeeling hands. For all he had was hands to do with, to grope with, and not feelings that would allow him to love another in the unselfish way he was being loved. He did not understand that language. He was only acquainted with the courser movements of love. And there are no answers as to why he could not give, could not cherish, could not treasure.

You, wondering and puzzling over questions even your beloved cannot answer, these constant inquiries weigh you down until you can hardly move, ultimately forcing you to hate the one you really love. You wish your feelings of malice against them would survive, but they never do. You wish you had never met, chastising yourself for nothing you started; you simply walked into a mess of a person and decided you could help them. But they had abandoned themselves, turned from themselves, so convinced of their unworthiness, certain of their unloveliness. But something in you could not leave them alone and so you stayed. To this day you stand alone in the room of their heart, an empty, old place, hoping they will return to themselves. Can you see how futile loving someone who refuses to mend is? Why hang on to futility? It is like not being able to drop a stick that your own arm beats you with. Time passes, and still your heart holds on. Holds on for what? They were never yours in the first place. Seldom did they give all of themselves to you. On occasion they adored you, and their love was so superior to all other loves that it created a desire in you to never be apart. The drive in you to know them wholly is what repelled them, which only confounded you. A vicious circle was established of chasing and of running, because you liked the effort of proving your love, and they felt powerful when spurning you. In this scenario they always won, and you always lost. Is it remarkable that the unattainable chase wore you down?

My dear heart, yours is a royal line of love, a highly idealized form of love that mortals cannot sustain. You give what you one day hope to get but never do. You give truth, transparency, and you give without measure, forgetting your needs. My dear one, let them go, free to roam. In truth, you haven't the power to make them stay. The tighter you cling, the farther they will roam. They do not recognize love; it is a foreign object to them. It is a circle while they search for a square. They chase no meaning, they long for no sincerity, and they spurn the truth. They are ever thinking another grass is greener and longing to lay upon it while you hold in intrepid hands jewels, but they are content with fool's gold. What you offer is unbelievably precious, tender, wonderful. But they don't recognize it and call it something else altogether. You must not cry for them when they should be crying for you. 

I cannot say how or by what means you will remedy this imbalance, only that you must try to rid yourself of any failure complex. How could you have failed to love them when you are still loving them? You hold out a treasure and they act as if you are worthless. Can you see what nonsense it is to blame yourself when you gave all of yourself, and silently still offer it? My poor, unfortunate comrades in love. Even if your heart refuses to turn away, at least know with conviction that you did not break them, they were already broken. Your sin was in wishing to save them. You saw in them something nobody else could see: their innocence, fragility, and their ruined childhood. And ever after you could not leave them alone. And where has it led you? To the door of your own emotional destruction. To a deep crater filled with regret. To a loneliness that is unfathomed. It led you to question your sanity and goodness because they questioned it. Immobilized, you stopped walking the path of love for it had turned out the lights. Standing still in the darkness, not able to trudge another step, you sat, because to take another step in that dangerous jungle of love might have lured you over a precipice. In a profound darkness you held yourself as you had learned to do, though you detested it. And here you are on the same impossible pass wondering when the light will return to your eyes? Listen closely, for I shall say it only once: their unavailability is their wound to heal, not yours. Do not mistake a wounded other for yourself. You are overqualified for the job, not insufficient. You had nothing to do with the wounds they received. They were hunted and struck down years ago. 

Seek to soothe your weary heart. See in yourself what few have taken the time to see: a compassion for another so deep and true that it knows no limits or bounds. A love which stretches on for eternity, pure as white silk. Even a humor which surpasses all and which still lives in your belly. See these precious, tender things and know that all of nature loves you: the sun and moon delight to shine for you, the breeze blows for you. Know that it is time to pick up your bags and walk the only direction anyone can walk. Don't wait for another to walk beside you, as yours is a silent and solitary soliloquy into the sunset. 

With Love,

Frida

Fate, and the Pigeon (Dedicated to Frida Kahlo) by Devi Nina Bingham

"I was not a believer, but if you had asked me, I would have told you I was Catholic in respect of my pious mother. But I was my father's daughter, a dreamer who believed in doing things on your own if you wanted them done correctly. I learned early on not to turn to God for help, since it never arrived. As a vulnerable youngster with Polio, my parents looked away from the harsh reality, saying, "She'll be fine." And again, when I was a young adult, I nearly died, and many of my family and friends prayed for me, including my father, who was not a prayerful man. But God did not spare me from agony, and for the rest of my life, I realized that if anybody was going to raise me out of the anguish and despair that were a daily part of my existence, it had to be myself.

I used to wonder why such gloomy and menacing shadows had to sweep over me like enormous waves over a small boat. Why had I been selected as unfortunate by fate—or God, which is actually the same thing? Had I been a horrible monster in a previous life, now being punished for unidentified transgressions? Or did this chaotic universe have no justice, order, or meaning because there was no God at all? Had I dropped out of Heaven by accident, falling with a gasp? Was my destiny a blind chance rather than a punishment for the terrible history of another life? Was I a colossal mistake? I pursued these ideas in an attempt to understand why I was here. I really believed that even God is fallible. When I was younger, my family and friends would chastise me for asking existential questions and warn me that I shouldn't have such pessimistic ideas. Therefore, until the day of my death, these profound issues remained unaddressed. I had a lot of questions but never answers. Like an echo, my questions reverberated back to me from the emptiness. In addition to slapping me, Providence's hand was raised as though to declare, "No admittance."

Sometimes you are the statue, and other times you are the pigeon. This is an old proverb that is accurate. A filthy bird, the pigeon lacks great intelligence. To fly and explore, however, is up to them. Something is symbolized by a statue, which is still and immobile. I was every ounce the statue in my life as Frida. I was imprisoned, like a stone sculpture, the representation of an artist. I was the hungry artist's representation. I stood for the artist who endures hardships to elevate the world and give it beauty and significance. Wearing traditional clothing, I represented my own Mexico as a Mexican peasant girl, and my strength was that of the Mexican female warrior who bravely fought alongside the men during the Mexican Revolution. Additionally, I played the abandoned and devastated lover. I was the contemporary whore who drank alcohol and applied crimson lipstick. I was a caregiver attempting to save a man who did not want to be saved, so I saved animals by providing them with a home. I was the married housewife who prepared meals, cleaned, and hosted guests. I was a symbol of all these worldly duties. I did my best to dispel misconceptions about women and Mexico without receiving too much criticism. Frida rose to fame for all of these reasons.

Undoubtedly, intellect is incapable of comprehending anything pertaining to fate. Comparable like a locomotive on a track, your mind simply follows instructions. Going with the flow, you are mostly operating on autopilot. Furthermore, it is tragic to hang up your usefulness, even though aimlessly wandering is acceptable for a short time. You are not meant to be a leaf floating in the stream of life. Your continued presence is a testament to the significance of your contribution. You have a purpose in life and in time. Never completely retire, please. Do your best to be involved till the end of your life. You might no longer be able to be the firebrand you once were as you get older. No one expects you to do that. However, make every effort to be innovative. Write a brief narrative or essay about your life, bake something delicious and share it, or do a simple art or craft activity. Have an important conversation that people won't soon forget. Set one or two goals each day to push yourself. Establish your goals in the morning and evaluate the results at night. Regardless of your age or impairment, you can achieve one or two objectives each day.

Until this existence is only a memory, the majority of existential concerns about God and destiny will remain unanswered. After it's over, you'll have the opportunity to reflect and clearly recognize your strengths and places for improvement. At that point, everything that baffles and perplexes you will appear as clear as spring water. You have to try to remain patient till then. I am aware that patience is difficult. No one enjoys waiting. We need the answers right away. However, there are a lot of unseen elements at work. The only suitable answer in many situations will be "I do not know." It's okay to not know. Being ignorant is not a source of guilt. At this point, you are in a holding pattern as you wait for the solution to become apparent. When we move too quickly when unsure, problems arise. Being patient might seem like a lack of productivity. Rushing into the wrong circumstance, however, is the most ineffective thing you can do.

It's possible that you were destined to be a statue if you find yourself still and trapped. Naturally, this implies that the pigeons will shit on you and that there won't be anything you can do about it. You will not have enough money, your heart may be shattered, and your genius might go unnoticed. Whichever direction you choose, God's hand will be telling you to "stop." These are the cycles of learning. Your soul is learning to become the pigeon in the following cycle. It will seem like life is passing you by and that possibilities are just out of reach. Everything you do won't work, and having to be patient will start to feel more like a burden than a benefit. You are certainly fortunate to be a part of life, regardless of whether you are the statue or the pigeon. It is like the moon and the sun. The existence of mankind depends upon both. The moon provides light and controls the tides, while the sun provides heat. Both are necessary and equally significant, even if one rises during the day and the other at night. During this existence, you may be under the moon's influence. Simply let it to hold you. It is going to hurt more the more you struggle. As Mother Moon provides you her tolerance and serenity, lie as still as a newborn. Give up resisting the captivity. Give up fighting against the unavoidable. Let the moon win you over, let the night win you over. There is a still core in every atom. You need to locate your still center. What use does it serve to fight against what was created for you if you are the statue?

You might never understand the reasons behind the suffering, difficulties, and losses you have experienced until you have left this world. Then you will see clearly, I assure you, dear adventurer. It doesn't matter if fate has created you a statue or a pigeon; in the end, you'll realize that everything had a purpose and aided in your development. All experiences, no matter how positive or negative, are worthwhile. All lives, whether they are cherished or horrifying, are essential. From up here, everything makes sense—you'll see."

With Love,

Frida

A Giant Game of Inferiority (Dedicated to Frida Kahlo) by Devi Nina Bingham

Yes, everyone is a masterpiece. It will not appear that way to you since you are being created brick by brick, much like a house. You are the total of your pieces, not just the individual bricks. All you see are the flaws, however the master builder has flawless vision and sees what you are becoming. If you had such an everlasting vision, would you be concerned about the flaws, or would you celebrate, knowing that in the end the house will be a palace suitable for royalty? Because your vision is limited to the dreadfully imperfect earthly plane, you regard your flaws and weaknesses as something to hide. People can see your humanity, even if they don't see their own. They are well aware that they are just as flawed as everyone else, but they are busy concealing this from themselves and others.

It is all a giant game of inferiority resulting in superiority complexes. The greater the superiority complex, the stronger they look and sound, when they are as needy as you, if not needier. There is a world full of needy souls refusing to show that they need anyone, desperately pretending that they are superhuman. Every needy person feels smaller, less powerful, less capable, and less acceptable than everyone else. What a silly way to behave, feeling inferior when you are as deserving of love and forgiveness as everyone else. And, as I already stated, a masterpiece in the making.

What you do for a living will never improve your self-esteem. I was a well-known painter, but it just made me feel inferior to other Surrealists of the period, such as Picasso. Yes, he was my confidante and admirer, but I envied his work because he embodied Cubism, and Dali, of course, wrote the book on surrealistic art. These were the Spanish artists of my day, and I was meant to follow in their massive footsteps? In comparison, my paintings sang vulgar songs of my heartache and misery, but their work condensed a feeling, a notion, or a dream into magical shape and color. I believed that they were so much beyond my ability that it was preferable not to copy them, but rather to paint as only I could. I just had one thing to offer the world: my brokenness. And, to my delight, the rest of the world comprehended the language. It is a mistake to try to be someone other than yourself. It is who you were meant to be, whether the news enrages or excites you. And soon, this voyage will come to an end, and from this side of Heaven's door, it will seem like such a little time to have lived. If I could offer you one piece of advice, I would tell you to be grateful for everything that has happened (or been denied you) since it has shaped you into the unique person you are. What has formed and sculpted you, particularly the sorrow, has resulted in a person that you have grown to love, since we cannot help but love ourselves. Without the disaster that struck me down, I would not have had a motive to resuscitate myself and make such acclaimed work.

Look at individuals you admire, and you will see that their lives were not simple; success did not come easily to them. They worked their way to the top, and it is the effort that gives us wings. Isn't it true that the ugly caterpillar wrestles in its cocoon until it's ready to fly? As you writhe in the darkness, trapped as I was to your bed, tied to a shattered body, you will see no meaning in your suffering. You will turn your gentle face away from God, because He appears to be little more than a sadist. It will appear that you could perform far better than He. Will you remember what I said in these difficult times, that you are only seeing a small portion of your entire life, not the good that lies ahead? When you reach the bottom, you are on your journey back to the top. When your spirit hurts with loneliness and emptiness, someone is only around the corner and will arrive just on time. How do I know? Because I lived at the bottom for as long as anyone can and survived.

Did I perform well at enduring? At the moment, I would have told you, "I have given everything I can give; I cannot offer anything else." I was wrecked on the jagged rocks of love; I was a dinghy adrift in the wild sea, battered and broken to bits. On the beach, I lay in my wheelchair, wearing a body cast, unable to stand or even wash. But in the end, I had two arms and two hands that worked wonderfully, so I set them to work. I offered what little I had and recounted my sad story. To my astonishment, there were others throughout the world who had broken up on the shores of love and were stranded in emotional wheelchairs. So many people were sobbing inside, just like my paintings did. But did I live life correctly? Definitely not. I was a disaster. But I was proud of my appearance and refused to look amess. I was proud of my abilities and gave everything I had. However, I was a complete wreck on the inside. Frida Kahlo's beauty did not stem from her perfection. It was her elegance, her class, and her will not to give up.

You are a work in progress, so keep your head up, even if you are a mess inside, because you are still being built. As long as you have to be here, you might as well create something you can be proud of, giving something to the world despite the agony you are in. Make it beautiful, because the world needs more beauty. You don't have to be like others; being different is contagious. But always, always hold your head up high. 

With love,

Frida

Removing the Blocks to Love (Dedicated to Frida Kahlo)-by Devi Nina Bingham

Some individuals will never love you, yet your romantic feelings may persist. What can you do if your heart is shattered yet refuses to stop loving? This is something to celebrate! Loving is never an issue. How could it be when love is the most valuable diamond and prize? Therefore, continue to love. Don't let someone else's lack of love cause you to become loveless. What is the harm in keeping your heart open and allowing love to pass through? Love, like pure water, purifies the heart. If love continues, consider yourself fortunate. For when a heart abandons love, it dries up and loses its effervescence. The brightness in the eyes fades as the loveless struggle through life. But the one carrying love will always have a spring in their stride and a glint in their eye.

The trouble is in not receiving love back. Then you have a profound sensation of rejection and inadequacy. However, this notion is flawed. Another person's deficiency will never be about you, it is always about them and in no way reflects on you. You feel you are not good enough, but you deserve to be loved just for who you are. Not because of your riches, talent, appearance, or intellectual ability. You are as deserving of love as anyone because you are a part of God who is all truth, beauty, and perfection.

We have been told to love ourselves. However, we, more than anyone else, are aware of our shortcomings and failures, which we hold against ourselves, believing that we are unlovable. To fully embrace yourself might seem unattainable. However, the fact is that you are the only one capable of loving yourself properly. Nobody else knows how you should be loved. Some may have attempted to love you perfectly, while others may have learnt how to please you. However, no one understands your needs better than you do. Identify the characteristics that distinguish you and hence make you distinctive. Do not be proud of outer appearances, for they will fade with time and your body will betray you. Instead, cherish the aspects of yourself that you enjoy, such as your personality, attitude, talents, and abilities. 

If someone rejects your affection, remember what makes you unique, what you admire most about yourself. If you have never considered it, jot down all of your positive characteristics. You will discover that there is a lot to like. Then say to yourself, "I am loveable in so many ways, not because others love me, but because I have given so much and have so much more to give. Whoever does not see this is missing out on something good." Then repeat this until you believe it.  When you keep love in your heart, even for yourself, it will never run dry. Do not prevent yourself from carrying love. Carry it till the day you die for it will never hurt you. What hurts you is self-condemnation.

I understand how hard it is to love when you do not receive love in return. However, there is no way to repair the harm to another person's heart. The only heart you can repair is your own. So, take excellent care of yourself and offer yourself the praise you never received. Consider what distinguishes you and be grateful for the gifts you have. Rather than hardening your heart, love the people who are unable to love you, feeling sadness for their inability to love profoundly. Continue to love even when it is no longer reasonable to do so. If you maintain this loving attitude, I am confident that you will grow and develop far beyond the person who refuses to love.

What is love? Is it elusive like the butterfly, never staying in one place for long, flying away at will? Or is it heavy shackles tying down a guy when all he wants is freedom? Is it a positive force, or is it constraining and confining, making it impossible for anybody, man or woman, to bear? Is it both, as lovely as the butterfly in its charmed initial hours, but later changing character, becoming a prison, difficult to escape? I say, love is none of these things. So, what is true love?

Love is who you are. And you must labor throughout your life to remove the barriers to love. You may wonder how it is possible to "become love" in such a brutal environment, for who can keep a kind attitude? Other than superhuman avatars like Christ, who were walking examples of love, who among us is totally loving? Perhaps a saint, like St. Francis of Assisi, who cared for animals and even prisoners as if they were his own soul. Humans, however, are not saints; they are buffeted by the winds of change and lashed by human brutality.

You do not have to be a flawless saint free of earthly problems. You are a feeling and thinking creature who will change as the weather does. You'll rise and fall like a ship on the ocean's waves until only the bodily craving for sex will remain. And that need will be purchased and sold like a commodity, to sell items, enticing you like a fish to a hook. And you will be addicted, since sex is the most tangible manifestation of love, although a false one. 

Could you define God if I asked you to? You might say, "God is love." You would be accurate, because God's nature is love. But God also created sharks, alligators, and asps. God's nature is likewise terrible, devouring with wrath, is it not? To claim that God is only as lovely and gentle as a lamb ignores the fact that God created the terrible beasts that would eat the lamb. And you, dear human, are one of the hazardous creatures! So, how does a dangerous animal like yourself develop genuine love in a world full of other animals? There is only one hope for mankind, only one element capable of saving your race. And in order to embody love, you must become it.

It is forgiveness, for without it, one cannot truly love. If you do not forgive, you will become a difficult person, or perhaps a predator who vents their rage onto others. However, forgiving does not imply forgetting. You must not allow damage to come to you. The problem is to embody love while safeguarding oneself. Love is a foreign thing to your thoughts, difficult to comprehend, because you are accustomed to either forgiving others and loving or guarding yourself and rejecting. Your thinking is based on a binary choice between this and that, one or the other. However, love is not divisible. It is not one of these, but both of these.

Let me provide a hypothetical case. Assume that as a youngster, a family member caused you significant harm. They made you suffer, either physically or psychologically. As a youngster, your reaction was to become angry, or to retreat from that person, both of which are natural self-preservation responses. But once the experience was over, did you continue to be furious, or did you temporarily forget about it and return to your loving kid self? 

My hunch is that you looked at the other with concern since you learned they weren't as safe as you had thought. However, you were not resentful or seeking vengeance. You may have fought back at the moment, kicking or screaming, but then it was finished. You did not ruminate on your pain. You let it go so you could regain your footing. This is because children and animals have an inclination to forget whatever bothers them. This is why a dog may be abused while yet loving its owner. Dogs will cower yet still approach, trying to avoid being whacked again. 

I'm not saying submit to abuse! Never. But I am making a point: if you want to comprehend true love, look at the innocent, trusting character of children and animals. For love will protect itself, but after the threat has passed, it will resume its wonderful relationship with the world. Isn't that true? Children and animals do not remember the suffering they have experienced, which is characteristic of love. Love is a lack of malice. It is the absence of retribution. It is a lack of bitterness. It has a simple, trusting faith. 

I'm suggesting that to love is to keep yourself safe, while allowing God to manage the consequences. Revenge is the closest thing to hatred, which is the reverse of God. If you want to remove the barriers to love, abandon ambitions for vengeance. Let go of attempting to control situations and people to your advantage. Scrub your soul of any bitterness that has infiltrated it. Recognize that what happened to you is over, and if you dwell on it, how can you be carefree again? 

Be like your childhood self who knew instinctively that it was not your responsibility to punish that person. It is critical to understand that forgiveness entails refusing to seek revenge. It does not mean you will forget, but you will not identify with the pain. You don't let it get you down. You've stopped thinking about it. What's done is done. Yesterday's events are now history. Yes, it may have a significant impact on you; I am not denying this. It could have an impact on your daily life. Every day, veterans are affected when they return home injured. But if they see the world as the enemy, if they carry the bitterness with them, they are truly handicapped. To love is to let go and to let God.

You may not have realized that harboring hatred in your heart was so horrible, because everyone dislikes something or someone. But hatred is neither healthy nor useful. It only limits your potential. Hatred is ugly because it is the reverse of love. Make up your mind to discover beauty in life, even if it means creating it. Make your own patch of bliss, as I did, so you can live again. Art is a great method to express your sorrow, grief, and losses. Purge the darkness and restore light and vitality. Burn away your anger by expressing it creatively, rather than taking it out on others. 

When you refuse to pursue vengeance, you free others and become a better person. The cosmos has a way of dealing with people who do evil. They cannot evade the great reach of justice. You may not be present to see it, but nothing escapes the gaze of justice fixed on the planet and its inhabitants. The global rules of fairness and balance are constantly in operation, so those individuals will receive what they have given. It is among the most definite moral laws. And it can and will teach them what they need to know in far more depth. 

You don't have to be the cosmic sheriff; God is. Your only task is to let go and trust. Then, like a kid, forget about yesterday. Your days should be bright. They may not be easy, since life is full of difficulties and challenge. But your heart should be youthful, and carefree. When disease, death, breakups, and disasters appear unexpectedly, it can feel horribly unjust. It may be difficult or impossible to perceive God's concern for you. As I did, you may feel forgotten or betrayed by God. And when the light has left your eyes, there is no reason to pretend you are not crying inside. Everyone has experienced how cruel life can be, and if they haven't, they surely will. 

Despite all this, if you will simply give it all to God, trusting as a child does, and if you will stop looking back and start look forward, tomorrow will look brighter. Develop a willingness to be creative, leave the punishment to God, and create your own beauty. Then the delight you experienced as a youngster will return.

With love,

Frida

Viva la Vida (Dedicated to Frida Kahlo) by Devi Nina Bingham

Viva la Vida. These words translate as "long live life." It was said by Louis XV1 at his execution during the French Revolution. It is a warning tale for the living. My final painting was completed in 1954 and featured colorful still-life Mexican watermelons chopped in various ways with full fruits in the middle. I was illustrating, 'We all come from the same source, yet every one of us is unique. Long live life in your own unique manner.' I, like the doomed English king, had accepted the certainty of my death. I knew my body wouldn't endure much longer, and my spirit was exhausted, right down to the fractured bones. I never told myself, "It is time to go." I just let it happen. I did not plot my death, but neither did I attempt to recover. By then, I had been devastated by tragedy; my brave heart had made its affirmations to no avail. Like an old, rotting Mexican home, I was disintegrating, brick by brick. In the end, only the chimney remained intact, and the faint odor of smoke penetrated everything. Char had burnt my walls, and the lungs of my house had been ravaged by fire.

When I looked into the mirror, I could see the girl who started out so long ago, in love with and trusting life. She had been buried beneath the bricks and mortar somewhere. I hoped that upon my resurrection I would proceed easily out of my body by sitting up and leaving the rubble behind. And my girl, the one whom I had shielded and adored, would reach out her perfect tiny hand and grasp my father's exquisite hand, hands made like mine. He would not pull me from the wreckage, but I would walk willingly and gladly out to my new home, his home. My father's house. He would look down with a smile I had almost forgotten and say, "What have you been doing, Frida?" And my black eyes would twinkle. "Living life my way, father," I would say. 

Death is not to be feared. The effort to let go of life is hard. But death is as fluid and simple as taking your next breath. I knew death before I realized it. We met in infancy when polio threatened my life. During the accident, I once again saw the face of death. I instantly understood it meant relief, and it would have been simple to leave. But the first two times, I hadn't started living, so I clung to it. The third and last time, I couldn't resist. I gave in because I was proud of the job I had accomplished and the message I was leaving behind. I really had nothing left to say. There comes a time when silence speaks best for you, even a talkative gimp like me. That was my nickname, you know. It was what the school children called me because I walked with a limp. Strangely, I never shed that idea. This is the way I secretly thought of myself. I remained the gimp until my death. Had I spoken that aloud I would have been rebuked by admirers. But it does not matter how anyone else sees you. To me, I was Frida the limpy gimp. How does one rise above a fractured identity? You can ignore the imperfection, but at all times I was aware that under my skirts was a broken woman. I tried so hard because I was not supposed to succeed. It was forecast that I would be wheelchair and bed-bound, and what good can an invalid do under these circumstances? I showed them what I could do. What imperfect Frida with the limp and withered limb could do. I could not run like other children, but I could fly.

When the monarch said, "Long live life," he was headed toward the guillotine. What a thing to say when your life is taken. However, it is only when life is endangered that it becomes increasingly valuable. Then it transforms from a horror to a sparkling treasure. May life continue to flourish. May others follow in my footsteps, finding the fortitude and vision to overcome difficult odds. May they understand the value of a single day, even a few seconds. For living on this planet, however horrific it may be, is a precious privilege and pledge. While alive, we are blind to the perfection of our own life. We curse the daybreak because we are exhausted from our efforts and difficulties. But I assure you that when the sun sets, you will say, "Viva la vida," with your final breath.

Life must be on your terms solely. You are so distinctive and one-of-a-kind that you must be loyal to yourself. And this is something you will never regret. Even if no one supports you, living your life on your own terms is the ultimate success. You may need to make some modifications to be genuine to yourself. People won't always understand. They will dislike and perhaps condemn you. Still, stand. The only other option is to live half-heartedly, never revealing who you are and what you stand for. People will not be moved by a mediocre or lukewarm lifestyle. Only a life spent with enthusiasm, whatever your passion may be. Passionate people make a lot of blunders. You will injure both others and yourself. You will make messes from time to time. People may be disappointed with you. You will be an enigma who is called odd. Frida was an oddball. But isn't it typically the outliers who make a significant contribution to the world? Be open to being unconventional and even criticized. Make strong remarks and experiment with fresh approaches. Blessed are the passionate, since they will grasp life and hold it in their hands.

Take hold of life. Grab it while you can. Say, "To hell with fear." It never helped you any. It is a robber. Be all of who you are, not mostly what you are. This is living without regret. I only have one regret, that it is over.

With Love,

Frida

 

Suffering Fools (Dedicated to Frida Kahlo) by Devi Nina Bingham

The term, suffering fools, can be interpreted two ways. It refers to tolerating ignorance. It also translates precisely as "the foolish suffer." In either case, this sentence has two elements: ignorance, and pain. "Fool" is an intriguing word. It invokes images of clowns and buffoons who are purposefully stupid. Fools who are gullible and will believe any common falsehood. They will follow a leader down a precipice while mocking others' ignorance. However, fools are worse off than the commonly stupid since everyone has been dumb at some point in their lives, such as a newborn. Innocent children may be stupid, but we would not label them foolish. Fools opt to remain ignorant, choosing falsehood.

This begs the question: why would somebody willfully reject scientific knowledge in favor of being uninformed and living in the darkness of foolishness? There is just one explanation. It is because the truth might be frightening. Therefore, the idiot avoids or dismisses it, calling it stupidity. They flip the objective facts inside out to suit their own objectives. But what could be so frightening that an adult would reject established truths in favor of fiction?

Control. Or should I say loss of control? Those who have not sacrificed their egos want to dominate the story. They have eaten a false philosophy or ideology that refers to them as the master, and they enjoy the sound of it. And, like a dog chasing a ball, they rush for the illusion that they are higher. That certain individuals are more deserving and morally acceptable because of their skin color, religion, or financial status. However, this contradicts the words of Christ. For Christ said, "Be the servant of all, and wash their feet." When control begins to slip from their grasp, idiots will ignore Christ's instructions and take matters into their own hands. They will reject empathy, compassion, and even sensibility. Then everyone around them bears the repercussions.

When fools are put in charge, their ignorance knows no bounds and their cruelty multiplies exponentially. The result is that the masses must tolerate lies while the control-hungry sycophants grow thick and fat as ticks, ready to pop on riches. But there is hope, for fools are short-sighted. Or rather, their sight is clouded by their thirst for more. Ravenous for riches and power, they judge themselves to be smarter than they actually are much as criminals believe they can outsmart the police but seldom do. Because facts do not lie, eventually a slip up will uncover their criminal enterprise. Their own hubris becomes the noose with which they will hang themselves. It might take years and wreak tremendous damage and pain to innocent people. But, as usual, the control freaks slip and fall. Never in history has a fool governed the globe or even a single country for an extended period of time. Their reign of terror will only endure a short time, as history has shown that their own mistakes will bring them down. As a result, while you are suffering idiots, remember that it is only a transitory situation, since reality always trumps fiction and reasoning triumphs over rage.

How can you tell whether you're siding with the foolish? You might not. When hatred, greed, or a desire for power takes root, it blurs your vision. Anger and fear have great power. Strong negative emotions impose a set of devilish glasses on you, revealing only what you choose to see. Your prejudices and concerns are mirrored back at you, confirming your darkest assumptions. Can you view the world as it is when you wear glasses that, like a movie screen, show you an alternate reality? You may declare, "I do not live in anger and fear." No? Perhaps you are unaware that you are experiencing fear since it feels similar to rage. Perhaps rage is camouflaged as a need to be in control. Negative emotions will disguise themselves in some way. You will see your truest character in attempts to enslave, control, alienate, and govern people who are not like you. The question isn't whether you experience bad emotions; you do. The question is, what will you do with them?

When you are scared, do you know that it is your job to manage yourself and transform your fear into constructive action? When you are furious, do you recognize that no one else can create rage, and do you calm yourself until a balanced viewpoint returns? The fool does not wish to be responsible for themselves, for it is much easier to point the finger rather than change one's own attitudes and actions. The wise have learned that caustic emotions are their own. The wise have also learned that kindness, generosity, equality and justice are the high road and the only spiritual path. Greed, control, prejudice-these are man-made concepts. They are the lowest path and only lead one downward. So, the wise discipline themselves becoming ever more Christ-like.

I ask you: which path have you been on? Might a pair of the wicked glasses have been placed upon your head? If so, it is not too late to wriggle out of this trap and to see with a different perspective. But you may say, "Frida, what do you know about this? Of politics, psychology, and religion? You were just an artist." On earth, I was, but I was also a revolutionary. To my dying day, I believed that government should benefit the working people, not the wealthy. You may believe Communism is evil or awful. I don't care what your political views are. I am not preaching on behalf of Communism. I'm merely saying an idiot always ends up being embarrassed. They will come to regret disregarding the facts. There are many fine people who were turned into clowns and buffoons because they went intentionally ignorant, and their ignorance contributed to the great suffering of the world.

I implore you to pause and analyze if your beliefs are supported by reliable scientific data. Are they lawful? Based upon facts? Not on anger and fear. Does knowledge dominate you, or did you become engrossed in a fanatical moment? Do you stand on the right side of history and with Christ, who commanded the Golden Rule, or are you among a gang of fools? You, I am sure, are nobody's fool, meaning that, even if you were swept up in the moment, you still make up your own mind about things. Use your own reasoning and logic. Look carefully at the facts and not only what others tell you. Because in the end, you do not want to be on the losing team, of that, I am sure. Please accept this admonishment in the spirit in which it was given. I mean no offense by it. I hate to see so much strife on earth. It is like watching a family fight. It genuinely makes all countries of the world sad, and it makes your ancestors shake their heads for they can see your troubles.

Finally, to those who are suffering fools, the wise: I send all of my strength and perseverance, for it is difficult to see family members and friends accepting lies. You may be dejected because you are unsure what to do. How to persuade them to remove those terrible spectacles! You cannot. It is not your obligation to govern others. I wish I could provide you a quick solution, but all there is to do is say the truth, pray for the truth, and exemplify the truth. Live the truth. If you do, nothing else is expected of you. Also, keep in mind that all is not lost; history shows that in the end, truth triumphs, and love never fails. This should provide considerable comfort. Isn't it true that the stronger power always wins? And there is no greater power in the cosmos than love and truth. It all began and will conclude with these. In the meanwhile, you will have to put up with fools.

With Love,

Frida