I have come to a conclusion.

I want JOY even in the face of adversity.

Adversity has it’s own demonic seduction, pulling the participant down, down, down, further, which can be a dramatic experience.

To hold out for joy though, even while undergoing adversity, is to give adversity a kick in its backside, to say screw you, you don’t get to own all of me.

It is a commitment, a willingness, not to let the beautiful childlike parts of ourselves disappear.

It’s a snow angel on a stormy day.

It’s popping soap bubbles floating and casting rainbows, not to destroy them, but to be a part of a larger imagining.

There is no reason to ever disown the primordial elements of me.

How about you?

I am the glass shattered
On a clear
Winter day
Appearing as ice
On an otherwise
Unbroken surface

I am the dove
Holding her sound
Against
The weight
Of the gray sky

I am the mountain
Beneath the sun
Holding the tendrils
Of winter
To not unleash
My power
Upon the plains

I am the air
You breath
Whether or not
You call me
She

*image credit: Adobe

I think it’s time for a bit of a rambling post.

Let’s take two different and yet somehow related issues:

1. Streaks of misfortune; and
2. Decision to maybe stop reading/watching any mainstream media.

You may ask, as I did, what could these two things possibly have in common? Well, it’s a long meandering discussion, not quite a conclusion.

Let’s say for instance you believe, on what basis doesn’t matter, that the space around us is becoming choked with negativity.

The TV signals, the cable signals, the phone signals, the texting, the twitting tweeters, the emails, the blogs, the constant pouring out of media, media, media and advertisement into the vortex which surrounds. Do we really think it is invisible and without effect?

The signals pass by us when we are awake and asleep, passing geographical boundaries drawn on an ever changing map, passing gender boundaries, cultural and religious boundaries also. Passing over, intersecting, overlapping belief systems centuries old. Yet, we only think of it as communication. (What we can’t see, can’t hurt us, right?)

Yet, as I drive down the street, how do I not know that someone’s email transmission is hurtling straight through me and altering my own energetic path?

Whether we agree or don’t agree as to the form of negative thought, emotions, intent, etc., the reality is, negativity exists. If I hurt, I know it is true, because I feel it. If I am angry, I know it is true, because I feel it. If I am negative, I know it is true because I feel it. Yet, I don’t look for proof of it, I don’t require a statistical analysis, I don’t require to hold it in my hand, because I know it to be true.

So also do I know that the information we send through invisible networks is true. It appears on my t.v., it appears on my phone, it appears on my computer. Where then, is the substance?

Where do the moments of grief, sadness, anger, frustration, loss, negativity, the sum total of the mass of those emotions, reside? Do they all get delivered into the inbox? Does only a fraction of the emotion get delivered and part remain with the sender and the other diffused particles scatter catching others unaware, an unintended and unexpected blue moment? (p.s. never understood why we insult the word blue in such a way).

I think we are choking the air around us. When CNN or FoxNews blares, Alert! Alert! Alert! and then you find it is just another piece on Dave Letterman, you have to wonder, what are we receiving? 1. The intention to create sensation; and 2. the hopes and dreams of the staff that created the piece, bringing in their own liFe stories, needs, desires and frustrations; and 3. a willingness to disregard where else we maybe should be heading as society. That is a short list, but I ask you, where does the essence, the energy, of numbers 1, 2 and 3 land?

If I have a day, when the oven starts to malfunction, the washer broke, the windows are leaking and walls disintegrating and then the microwave inexplicitaly begins to smoke, do I say: 1. hmm, guess they are all at their life expectancy; or 2. I’m receiving some bad energy and need to re-balance? (Do we dare mention buying the microwave, bringing it home, only to find out it is defective? No, let’s just skip that for now.)

At the expense of sounding mad, I’m going with #2. There’s too much bad energy being drawn in.

I believe the air around us is becoming dense, the emotions we are flinging into the invisible realm are starting to reflect back, after all, even if we can’t see it, our words are going somewhere, they are disrupting and altering space on their travels, how can we possibly believe otherwise?

With all the chatter in the media about Congress spending $500 Billion for this and $500 billion for that, we thought it worthwhile to put all that cash in perspective. I have held a few $20 bills in my hand, so I can imagine what a few hundred dollars would look like, or perhaps even one thousand dollars. But a million dollars? A billion dollars?

This is $10,000 in $100 bills.

(more…)

Can you choose your color today, or must others still do that for you? Can anyone of us with mixed heritage be predominantly called by just one name? What does that say about the heritage you choose (or is chosen for you), and the heritage not chosen? It appears to me that regardless of your standing in society, regardless of your accomplishments or natural talents, you must choose a color – or one will be chosen for you.

I wonder at that. In some ways, our nation has come a long way since Patricia ‘Pinky’ Johnson, in its day a very controversial film about a young black woman who passes for white.
“Pinky” was a slang term for light-skinned black Americans. We trust the term as used here is not offensive to anyone today as we are using same only as historical reference. (more…)

Senator Edward Kennedy (1932-2009)
[Photo Credit: AP]

In regards to civil rights, health, and the economic well-being of the average American, few elected officials anywhere have accomplished as much. (more…)

“Throw in a few billion here and a few billion there, and before you know it, you are talking about real money…” . I don’t recall who first coined that phrase, (I think it was in the late ’80s), but when I first heard it, it was Millions not Billions! (more…)

Without much of a fuss made by the media, if even reported at all, last month Afghanistan’s new Shiite Personal Status Law was put into effect. The law grants Shiite men the legal right to starve their wives if their sexual demands are not met. These sexual demands are not defined or limited by the law. The law also requires Shiite women to obtain permission from their husbands to even leave their home. Parental custody is solely the father’s or, in his absence, the paternal grandfather. Incredibly, the law also allows a rapist to avoid prosecution by paying “blood money” to a girl who was injured when he raped her. That payment, of course, is offered to the father, paternal grandfather or the brothers of the raped girl. (more…)

Many times when asking for advice, some of us start out, not realizing we want our own opinion or belief confirmed.

Then, we become frustrated with the person speaking to us that we sought out to begin with, the unwitting victim.

Next time you seek advice, seek counsel from yourself first, ask:

what is it I’m hoping to hear?
what are the chances I will hear what it is I want?
Would it be better if I just recorded my own voice to play back the words as often as I desire?

-S.E.

Update: Churches and the love of God without walls

In the news, at least for some of us that still troll negative publicity, is the story of a Florida priest, sharing love with a woman.

Not a problem right?

Except that he made a ‘promise’ to not engage in certain types of love.

I wish I could condemn him, or his partner, but I can’t. I can say, it is easier that if you can’t uphold a promise you previously made that you graciously excuse yourself from same and explain accordingly. But life as we know it is not conducive to forgiveness.

Let’s pretend for a moment that this young priest came out, went public and said I’m struggling here, I took a vow of celibacy but I have found myself grappling with a whole different dimension of God’s love that I never knew I would need to grapple with, despite same, I’m grappling with it and ask your forgiveness, your understanding, your assistance to learn in which way to progress.

No.

Not possible, because social media really doesn’t allow for this does it?

I could go on and on, but I won’t, I would rather hear from you and ask that you pray for the priest and his loved one to find their way.

Blessings,

S.E.

If I were to dream but then awake
yet hovered between the two
would it be the time awake
or time asleep
that was more true?

Can I hold
The rainbow that I see
Gather it
In clumps
Shoving down to
Mix with the lint
And remains of my day
Within pockets?

If I can’t do that
Feel that
Does it mean
I or would it be,
the
Rainbow,
have failed
Or ceased to exist?

I have been giving this question some thought ever since my daughter shared with me an article describing the work of researchers at the Scripps Research Institute who created molecules that self-replicate, evolve and compete to win or loose.” (more…)

Forgive me
in advance
I know not what I do
at least
in the moment before doing.

I stumble on this path
sometimes realizing
after
what it is
what I have said
what I have done
to hurt you.

i think sometimes
out loud
but on paper
or would that be
the blank canvas of this page?

So often
i let the words
dribble
and run
into my
my moments
not seizing them
not taking them hostage
making them
account for themselves.

Then,
without reason,
i grab a pen
or a keyboard
and make them
make themselves known
to stop
the cycle of words
without
known
consequence.

they now
commit
to ask,
why would I want
to be them?
Heads bowed
backs bent,
against and under
the weight
of
stares
arms draped down
in
anguished leather
of fingers pricked
and worn
under a machine
within dark enclosed space
the only sky
the sound
of
someone counting,
again
and again,
the worth
of
their
breath.

To open
to live
to breath
the kiss of the immortal
As I sell myself
against time
not as nice as I used to be
half as nice
as I may be tomorrow
I kick at the confines
soap bubbles dispersing
in the water
leaving film
my fingernail scratches
the outer edges
beginning to claw
the blue
at the edge
of vision
pulling back
light from beneath
shudder
now silent
resting on the counter
dishes pulled from the washer
a cycle complete

The trees began to curl into themselves

but first

color themselves in the light

of Fall colors.

The edges began to creep,

creep,

and creep further in,

and every time they did,

the Faeries,

would curl up their toes,

closer to their immortal legs,

and hide.

The ledges of time

became smaller,

the space

to hide,

smaller yet,

and the Faeries knew,

there were not too many daylight hours

left to hide.

They unfurled in the night,

becoming themselves,

unbent from the leaves,

from human eyes.

Oh,

how they thanked the darkness for the need

of most,

humans,

to sleep.

They slipped from the leaves,

stretching their limbs,

nimbly alighting hundreds of feet to the ground,

to start the next day’s work

on the century’s task.

they had agreed to.

(more later) (copyright, The Faeries, S.E.)

Are we ever just this one thing?

I think not.

Unless we only evaluate in the space of frozen time.

My girl, my prior header on my previous design blog, she shines; yet, I changed her time and time again. I have photos of her change, all of which I have not posted.  it was an expose of moments and I dared to paint and repaint the canvas.

The point is, none of us are ever just one thing, and when we judge others, we freeze them in time.  We see an encapsulated moment, while still, perhaps, allowing ourselves evolution.

Ah, so now what, my friends, now what?  Shall we move on?

Today

the Earth fell from beneath my feet

but it was not

an unusual occurrence

because yesterday

the same occurred.

I woke,

I stood,

I put my feet upon the ground,

I lifted my arms,

stretched,

and looked to the windows,

where recently,

i hung scraps of cloth,

to obscure the view.

of them,

or me?

It does not matter.

I know there are times,

we belong to no one

but ourselves and God in our heart,

and those moments are

simple

pure

real.

they are the moments,

God willing,

when the rest of the world

stands back

and does

not come through our door uninvited

and we have moments

just for thanks and gratitude

that we are

in those moments ok.

It will be the harrowing moments after

of self realization

CNN or Fox News

where we may doubt our own

definition.

So long as we hold

strong

in the moments in between

we can gather courage

like beans

or seeds

kernals

in a pocket

promising a different now.

Peace to you. We send such loving thoughts your way.

Surface Earth

When you live on the edge of the rainbow,

hanging on to the hue,

of purple,

or blue,

the gradation,

may not matter.

When you live on the edge of the rainbow,

it is moments,

seconds,

that define,

you,

your life.

When you live on the edge of the rainbow,

you hold on,

by nail,

by a thread,

by a handful,

if you like the color,

you have grasped.

When you live on the edge of the rainbow,

yours,

hang with you.

In my hand

I hold

the promise of today

which was the breath,

the blink,

of yesterday,

unrealized.

In my hand,

I hold,

the courage,

of a moment,

fingers curled,

ready,

palms warm.

In my hands,

I hold,

the tempo,

of a new tomorrow,

watch my fingers spread,

reaching to the horizon,

refusing to meet,

a dividing line.

In my hands,

I hold,

the spark of hope,

so tiny,

I dare not look,

to see,

if it exists,

but close my eyes,

against the

sand of time,

willing granules

to become affixed,

within my eyelashes,

so short these days.

I will,

the space of time,

to exist,

as I hold it,

in my heart,

and send to you.

Peace.

Surface Earth

What is the sound,

of one heart,

sighing?

One heart,

crying,

ripping,

tearing?

What is the sound,

can there be,

when no one outside of yourself

can hear it?

Or is sound,

an image,

something transfixed,

transported,

into gesture and face?

Can we hear the sound

of a heart breaking

in visual imagery?

Imagine this,

if you will,

falling,

through a moment in time,

when life becomes reversed,

when the difference,

between what is and what isn’t,

is no difference at all,

where there are no lines.

Imagine if you will,

having,

in fact,

the wrong look,

the wrong intonation,

the wrong laugh,

and imagine,

that is all it takes

to make you into

the other.

What is the sound,

of a heart breaking?

What does it mean,

to be the other?

Who must you be first,

where must you stand,

to call

another

of your brothers

or sisters,

the other?

May peace be with you.

Surface Earth

In a nutshell,

what truly would fit?

Is there something I can share,

impart,

that you yourself,

have not thought of?

Yes,

grammar is but a tool

to help bridge the gap

in communication,

and I will flout

those rules here.

Yesterday,

did it matter,

how your hair looked?

what car you drove?

who said what about you?

If so,

you live,

still,

within,

what I would call,

a bubble,

a protected, lovely bubble,

that is no different,

than an oxygen tank.

There is a limit.

I don’t mean to bring you down,

and in fact,

I believe the great deal of you that visit

more than once

know that automatically.

What I am trying to impart,

is that,

life,

is but a knock away.

For some of us,

it can be a knock that resounds as a winning lottery ticket,

or the sense of doom,

before the knuckles fall,

but it is fallible

and ever present

unless

we

decide

otherwise.

If I am rooted in faith,

external conditions,

well,

they can try,

can’t they?

But then,

isn’t it up to me,

as to how,

insidious,

they become?

**May you be blessed and protected today.  Namaste.

-Surface Earth

Where do we begin when we sit separate; yet, never apart

in this Divine Matrix

of energy?

I wonder at times,

why I write here,

and then wonder again,

why not?

I share with you to night, a small sliver from a beautiful, beautiful book:

(an excerpt of an excerpt)

Poem by Phillip Lopate

We who are

your closest friends

feel the time

has come to tell you

that every Thursday

we have been meeting,

as a group,

to devise ways

to keep you

in perpetual uncertainty

frustration

discontent and

torture

by neither lovng you

as much as you want

nor cuttng you adrift.

Your analyst is

in on it,

plus your boyfriend

and your ex-husband;

and we have pledged

to disappoint you

as long as you need us.

In annoucing our

association

we realize we have

placed in our hands

a possible antidote

against uncertainty

indeed against ourselves.

But since our Thursday nights

have brought us

to a community

of purpose

rare in itself

with your as

the natural center,

we feel hopeful you

will continue to make unreasonable

demands for affection

if not as a consequence

of your disastrous personality

then for the good of the collective.

For the absolute beautiful narrative leading up to and including this piece, pick up and read:

Anne Lamott

“Bird by Bird, Some Instructions on Writing and Life.”

Peace to you.

What is the story that you have not told?

Is there only one?

Is it the story that creeps upon you in the darkest part of the night,

or the one,

in the full light of the Sun,

that glares at you,

on your way to work,

daring you to deceive it?

Do you have a story untold?

One that would free your heart,

if only,

for a moment,

you were the breath

of air

that lit

the

embers

of the fire?

the most profound thing

I have heard in awhile,

is…

“there really is no Earth,

it is only dressed up,

as the Earth.”

anonymous, 5 years old

To sit in the hands,
the palms of God,
is to live,
without fear.

Green is cool. I’m all for it. Probably because I’m not quite centered in this world and simply believe we forget to tele-transport ourselves.

I digress.

I do in fact have some kind of point. The point will though meander, be forewarned.

Here are my thoughts on Go Green.

The North East is about to experience a heat wave.

Unemployment rates have soared.

Million dollar homes are in foreclosure.

So?

I now rinse glass and plastics and ask myself, hmmm, what can this hold? Can this hold lentils, rice, vegetables from the garden? GARDEN? Yes, despite the deer, we are trying to grow one.

Ripped up clothes? I keep them. I can make rags or quilts or whatever, and yes, you may have guessed, I am not a gifted seamstress, I am an idea girl, better off spinning tales then making them come to light.

So what does Go Green mean to most of us?

Survival.

Plain and simple.

Solar panels.

Wind turbines to the extent we can make or otherwise afford them on our roofs.

Making gallons of decaf chilled green tea, pans of baked ziti, organic cookies, whatever and everything in advance before the heat index hits 100 tomorrow. And if the power fails?

Oh boy, we better eat up and eat up quick, thank God the oregano, basil, sage, rosemary and dill hit fruition. Between that and bottles of water, we will get by.

So, what is Go Green to you?

I call it the new survival economy.

Peace to you and yours.

S.E.

I read many articles. Many books. Many reflect the path back to ourselves.

If I’m to be “honest” with you, should I be anything else? I would tell you, I believe there is only one “teaching”, one “truth”, whether it is called healing, spirituality, health, religion, love, etc.

The only truth is the heart.

Now this could be confusing because where does the soul then come in?

All I know is the soul and the heart are inextricably woven, not disparate, not separate, so I’m not sure if it matters what I call it.

I can practice yoga to get to my heart.

I can preach pretty words to get to your heart.

In the end, it is the path isn’t it, that divides, sometimes joins and other times enlightens us…the path to a singular, yet timeless, unlimited space. Within and beyond us.

Namaste.

Sometimes
there is nothing
left to say
you go hollow
empty
beyond reason.

Yet,
is it a bad
place
to be?

The space in between?

Have you ever felt
the moments
when they stretch
when time defies logic
in fact
when “time” is not
even present?

When it, you, life, just is?

Belief Net: Orbs?

FoxNews, tongue in cheek, presents to us, or provides a channel to us, to hear a different perspective on Jesus’ alleged lineage.

Of course, I am only one reader, and hear sarcasm between the lines, as FoxNews reports on the Director, Paul Verhoeven’s, view and account of the possibility of Jesus’ lineage.

Now, I am not without sympthathy as to how such a view could be upsetting to untold millions, but if we are strong in our faith, then we can receive, process and decide for ourselves, yes? Different points of view, so long as they do not oppress, hurt, incriminate or falsely accuse, must be heralded, no?

So I think, Mr. Verhoeven’s views should at a minimum be reviewed with an open mind. Perhaps we could start with this objective viewpoint:

1. We know more today than we knew yesterday; and

2. We know less than we will tomorrow.

The other day driving to Court, I replayed the song: Let it Be from Across the Universe. Then I began to think of my routine prayers from childhood: Our Father and Hail Mary.

As I repeated the Hail Mary after several times, I began to smile, quite wide in fact, when I got to “Mother of God”. If Jesus is the Son of God and Mary is the mother of Jesus, then she is also the Mother of God?

Well, I enjoyed this hyperbole.

So when I see someone brave enough to come out and spin a different version on Jesus’ lineage, I say why not?

What’s the harm, really?

Faith begins and ends within each of us, the tenants are beautiful guidelines, but should never be used as the ultimate guidance on love or kindness and certainly, never used to oppress.

May the Divine bless all of you.

Namaste.

Life does not stop to hold us

We only grasp

Fingernails etched

Against the matrix

of continuing energy

The close of the night

Brings sweet sorrow

for

expectations

unmet

There is a cure

prepare

a shorter list

upon waking

I saw a sign this morning in front of a small church:

God forgets the past-

Imitate Him

I smiled.  How simple.  How profound.  If you do not naturally know how to forget the past, you can pretend you do. 

Wait, imitate?  what do they mean imitate?  how do I imitate “God”?  I don’t even know if God is pure light or someone that looks like me and you.  How do I imitate that which I can’t see?

Ah, I imitate the action.  But is it action or is it non-action when you forget the past?

I decided to vote in favor of action, because for many of us, forgetting the past is in fact action, it requires “something”, clearing our mind, focusing on a simple picture in our minds, but certainly, navigating ourselves from visiting past paths that cannot be changed.  The only thing you can do by visiting the past is effect the present and the next present and so on.

Ok, so I began to get a handle on this…then I thought “imitate”, as in copy?  I felt the need to look up the word imitate…not sure I really  understood.

Dictionary.com on “imitate” lead me to a variety of similar definitions, the majority of which referred to copying a person or image.

Well ok then, I was not feeling quite so foolish for my desire to look up the word imitate and take the simple six word message I saw earlier today and turn it into a voluminous meandering post.

As I continued to read the definitions, the word “act” jumped out at me, to strive to copy an act.

Ah………..long breath. 

Now, I can put this to rest, I can live with that interpretation of the word “imitate” and thereby live with the wording of the message.  I don’t know need to figure out what form God takes in order to follow the message.

So copying the Divine, I am presently, forgetting the past and signing off of the last few hours of thought.

You must have heard them, haven’t you?

The almost, indescribable sounds of night.

Not the ones that keep you waiting on your next breath,

the ones removed,

silent,

peacefully exhaling.

You wonder sometimes,

how it can be,

that the same darkness

can breed such separate sets of emotion,

but it happens,

doesn’t it?

Just like in the day.

I was touched this evening,

very touched,

by words in a book,

I found,

in a dollar store today.

I mean no disrespect to the author,

paying such a slight amount.

Is it an excuse that it is all the vendor asked

and I did not bargain down further?

Without further ado, I share:

“Don’t you know she is the one who came out of her mother’s womb, leaving her mother dead?

Do you know who brought her from the hospital? Her mother’s brother, who didn’t even cry that night. Not one teardrop? No.

Unknown to them, you see what they say.

Will you keep your back turned, angry and hurt? Or will you put on a smile, walk straight into their waiting arms, into their trap of pity? I don’t know.

All I know is that in this city of twelve million, if six or seven, even ten people, say words that hurt, they are a speck in the ocean. Wait for a while, the moon will slide into the right place, the clouds will gather, there will come a tide and with it a wave that will wash this speck away.”

-The Blue Bedspread, by Raj Kamal Jha

I say to you then, namaste, in your deepest moments of the night, “the moon will slide into the right place.”

I have seen

the bottom

of tomorrow

it looks

not much

different

than

today

I want to tell you

how the sun looks

against the trees

tonight

I actually

love you

my loyal readers

so much

i ran outside

but picked the camera

without a card

I wanted

you to see

what I see

the horizon

of the end

of today

against tomorrow

and

I wanted

to get that for you

a glimpse

because that is often

all it is

namaste

my friends

may you brighten

the moments

of those

you walk

across

Do you ever wonder,

why you are here?

In blogland?

Is that even a word, blogland?

I sit in the spaces,

of the music tonight,

Sarah McLaughlin playing,

I could not find the other cds I wanted to hear,

it does not make her unworthy,

but perhaps,

timely.

Did I tell you the story?

Once upon a time,

there was a little girl,

she was too big,

yet too small,

she set off for school,

on one of those buses,

you know,

the yellow ones,

she couldn’t reach the first step,

but refused the help of her family,

the bus driver reached down,

across three ascending steps,

a hand,

and grabbed her,

into tomorrow.

He reached,

and she held,

and she stepped,

into the time,

that was not defined.

She was gone.

She spent the days after,

sometimes,

well,

maybe only once,

being forgotten,

on the very front seat of the bus,

the one behind the driver,

reflected in that big mirror,

but not seen,

the littlest one,

there that day,

into the bus pulled into the yard,

and someone,

a stranger,

found her,

unaccounted for….

she arose the next day,

nonetheless,

and got back up those stairs,

without a hand that time,

she did not want one.

She got off the bus,

the right stop this time,

and at three,

or was it four,

she remembered,

the sun playing across the cement,

the butter in her hand,

eaten,

without the excuse of bread.

The way the sun

sat upon the world,

not asking,

but,

saw.

And in this moment,

this fresh, new Spring,

she wonders,

if the girl,

will have her back.

Don’t criticize yourself

there may already

be

a long line

of people

behind you

unable themselves

to look within the mirror

I turned my head

And You were gone

I hear sounds around the realm of me

I don’t know what they are

What You are doing

Yet

I claim

To know You

Better than anyone

But I can’t feel

What would happen

If we surrendered

To the world around us

If we hung our heads

And just admitted

That it was not for us to see

But since

We don’t know

It’s not then pretend,

is it?

I make rules

And regulations

On Your speech

When I defend others

Whose rules?

Not Jesus

I lift from my seat typing those six letters

Lord hear me

If I could explode the world would tremble

If I gave even a percentage

Of what happens inside of me

Even witnessed a moment

Of how

I want to scoop

Up the pain

In the world and tend to it

A gardener

In an untended basket

I want my hat pulled low

My brim to the Earth

I want to bow in thanks

I want to dance

And tell You

Celebrate

When my feet hit Your contours

I want to say

I am sorry for being ashamed

Of

Being alive

I am sorry

I apologize for who I am

that would bow

to You

Yet

kiss the dandelion

peeking out

between the cement slabs

The Lord God

is beautiful

He lives within

the valley of my days

He stands

watches

and wrings His hands

as I

set the water to warm

fingers crossed

and stuff

the sink

with a handtowel

as the stopper

stopped long ago

as I take one of ten

of a pack

worn

and sink them into the water

and two of four

of a pack

and sink them

too

and

rub

the Dove

I wish organic

soap

beneath the trickle

and say

how wonderful

how divine

I have withstood time

I have taken

the necessities

of a woman in business

and parceled them to

and

within

a value pack

and have further

elongated

the value

beneath my tap

I have laid

the efforts of my days

against the cracked

tile of the tub

and

have thrown

in

upon

within the graying water

the rest that

keeps me whole

setting it

wringing

it

along the path

of my legs

my feet

that raise

me

each

day

See?

Hear?

Feel?

I don’t end.

It hit me like a ton of bricks tonight, an 18 wheeler when I was looking left rather than right.

I simply
Do
Not end.

I can give you verbatim
Transcripts
Of this ordinary; yet, unusual mind of mine
Or I can stay silent
And give
Pieces
Bait at the
End of the string_

Regardless,
I remain
As
Do
You.

Meme, again?

What six words define me? If you are anything like me, often beyond definition even to yourself, there is only one way to do this….what six words define me in the moment of that thought?

Let me give you the outline of the meme and then my answer:

Here are the rules:

1. Write your own six word memoir.
2. Post it on your blog and include a visual illustration if you’d like.
3. Link to the person who tagged you in your post and to this original post if possible so we can track it as it travels across the web.
4. Tag five more blogs with links.
5. And don’t forget to leave a comment on the tagged blogs with an invitation to play!

My six word memoir:

The dawn before the day remains.

Now tagging….

1. Ronnie at Outofmyhead

2. Gypsyheart

3. Tumel

4. Sorrow

5. Tobeme

He was given

two hands

on which to count

to hold

to grasp

On one

he counted

the injustice

of

the favors

unreturned

The other

lay empty

waiting

for

return

I sit

feet beneath me

crawled into

the depth of a chair

I sit

knowing

God

is somewhere

on the edge of my being

I falter

hanging on

fingers on the edge

wondering

how hard

I should hold on

I want

to send you a picture

a sketch

a charcoal

sketched against

off white

rough paper

to show you

what my words mean

but I lack the materials

and the time

in this moment

***

I sit on the edge of the universe

my faery feet

flying

into the foam of the ocean caps

I dip

my toes

the toes I sometimes

dip

dip

dip

I dip them in

those little things

I dip them in and out

do you see them now?

those five points

dipped in foam?

those happy

little

digits

sprayed against the

horizon of the sky

against the epicenter

of the unknown?

****

I sit

on the edge

of a moss covered rock

I dip

my toes

into the clear

clear

clear waters of a meandering stream

I watch what I think

are the

never moving rocks

the pebbles

watching the

water go by

I dip and dip again

****

My faery feet

I see them well

I never asked

I never told

just a little one

a wee one

they said

so

spry

so slight

when they sucked my breath

I didn’t

know how to say

no

You have asked me

In no uncertain terms

To broker a deal

Against a sky with no moon

I have sifted

The moments of my time

Against the hourglass

Never fashioned

I bowed my head

Never

Only once

And allowed the definition

I woke up this morning,

storm clouds brewing outside,

and in that moment before my waking self realized I was awake,

a song was singing in my head,

and I say singing,

because it was a chorus of voices ringing out….

“Rise and Shine….and give God your glory, glory!  Rise and Shine…and give God your glory, glory….Rise and Shine and give God your glory, glory, children of the …(Lord?  World?  Earth?  No, scratch that, go with one of the first two.)

So there I am with this song blaring in my otherwise semi-unconscious mind looking out at tree limbs and storm clouds and believing it is Saturday…..yet, despite this lack of lucidity (hmmm, lack?) the song persisted.

Then it hit me after a few refrains….I hadn’t thought or heard of the song since I was a kid at camp sleeping in the woods in platform tents.  Where had that memory been hiding?  Had it been snatched from the Universe circling around on its way to the Recycle Bin?  Was it pre-programmed to kick start some part of myself that had been dormant?

Regardless it’s back and it’s still blaring in my mind, yes, right in the background even as I type these words to you.  And the cool part is, we used to see who could be the loudest singing and stamping our feet during that song, so I’ve got a whole singing stampede heralding me through the day!

Today, sing as loud as you can and stamp those feet, raise your arms up and live!

How quickly do we fall from grace?

What does it take for us to push another from the seat of grace?

There are times in life I have fallen from grace, either in my own opinion or in the opinion of someone else.

There are times in life I have pushed someone from the seat or cradle of grace.

The why to me is no longer important.  The why is because, because it happened, because it was a proscribed or learned mind-set, because, because, because.

There are triggers that go off before we attempt to let someone fall from grace or to push them from that natural state.  There may be an addictive surge of heightened emotion, a marshalling of the ego, a quick pain in the stomach, a headache, something that is other than pleasure and truly a natural state of being from the heart.

If you know your own triggers, when you are about to set the trap, create the lair to draw another in, to bring them down…chances are you can stop in the very moment and cause a non-occurrence.  You can choose how to treat another human being.  Conversely, you can choose whether you allow yourself or another to cause the illusion of your fall from grace.  When you begin to hear the self-critical voice, when your body and its energy begin to delete, almost slouch, when there is simply too much noise in your head…recognize that which is not natural is occcurring.

The quickest way to return to the natural state of love is to breath.  When we are in the natural state of love, we do not allow anyone’s fall from grace, including ourself, it is not even a recognizable concept or desired action.

Even if it is only for a moment.  Take a breath in through your nose, feel your stomach move and then slowly, slowly exhale, focusing on your stomach breathing out again.  This moment creates a barrier while at the same time allowing a flow of loving energy to return within and around you.

Namaste.

I watched two different witnesses today.  Lovely, credible women.

Both had different mannerisms.

The first at times looked down, scanning her memory, trying to find a recollection.  At times, she looked up, staring.

Where in fact was she looking to access memory?

The second was slow and steady, reigning in emotion, she didn’t flick her eyes as much, seeming to know or have pre-decided what she knew and what she didn’t.  Was that a veil?  A curtain of forgetfulness?

Watch people as they try to remember.

Watch what their eyes do.

Watch where they try to look for the information.

Fascinating.

If I take a moment

And affix upon you

My battered eyes

I will not see

If I take a moment

And

Reclaim

The eyes I used

As a child

Then

I will see

You

As you

See me

It comes down now-or should I say they?

Dropping,
Washing,
Pouring,
Filtering,
The end of my day.

The resevoir of sound
Coats and soothes
This otherwise me
Willing it to turn to snow.

To awake at five in the morning
Tomorrow
To rush to the window
On the tip
Of
My toes
To hold
And waiver there
Here
Peeking
Leaning
Into the glass
Of the
Next moment.

Today

I ask

why it is

we spend

time

wondering

what anything means.

I wonder

what it is

that

makes awake each day,

knowing that we don’t know.

Once upon a time, a long, long time ago, or simply a time removed from the now we know, the humans began to be ruled by the being known as “It”.

“It” had all of the answers.

“It” determined how to live.

“It” held the power as to whether to grant or deny fevered prayers.

The people woke and worked and slept.

They managed to love, smile, cry, hug and laugh in times in between.

They didn’t notice slowly the less time spent beneath the Sun or the less time there was when they were exposed to the Sun.

They did not notice when time sped up despite what the clocks illuminated for them.

“It” on the other hand, watched everything with great mirth.  “It” sat back, hands folded on a large belly and peered beneath its folds, looking down at the “people”.

“The people have begun to ask too many questions,” said “It”.

“Give them ‘jobs’”.

“Give them ‘aspiration’”.

“Give them ‘hope’”.

Now that didn’t seem so bad, giving the people jobs, aspiration and hope.  No, not so bad at all.  The people went along with it, waking up and sinking into the parameters of their days without a thought.  Well, maybe one or two, but the rest of the words kept them so busy, they had to abandon their thoughts.

“It” chuckled, knowing it had just begun.

The wind takes away

the bitter seeds

planted

on an otherwise

justified day

there is a difference

in the dimension of the

changing

of the wind

a sweet breeze plants the hope for a new season

not unearthing

that which was tilled

with love

the fierce, almost howl of the talons of the wind

ripping

like a hailstorm

through the day

unearths

what was never meant to be planted

Today

I thank both the fierce winds

and the sweet breeze of my existence

Listen, who knows, right?

To date, I have yet to find a can upon the shelves that has claimed to contain all of the answers.

I have not yet been force fed to see this world in only one way.

So tonight, I lift back the curtain of our existence and introduce…

Blue Solar Water & “Dewdrop”.

I lead you to the page where I found some source documents that I enjoyed, now, it is your turn.

You see, I believe in magic, and I for one am going to enjoy this journey looking from out beyond the edges of the box….stop back if you find anything of interest you would like to discuss.

Peace.

Ubuntu.

Namaste.

More perspectives:

Indigo Rising 

Graceful Presence Blogspot 

There is no point in resisting the passage of time.

It will not stop. It will not recognize our resistance.

The only thing that can change is our perception of time.

I wonder if time is measured differently during moments of beauty.

If it spins out, webbing itself against the dimensions.

Does it hold, grab, freeze, otherwise reverse what we know as time?

Does it still the giant within us, in this day and age, that lunges toward negativity?

I do know moments of beauty are crystal clear and indescribable to the greatest extent.  They hover, almost outside of our vision even when within, pulling at the reaches of our heart.

Sponge Bob speaks to Patrick, telling him with imagination, you can be anything you want to be.

Sponge Bob says I-Mag-In-A-Tion, drawing the word out wide, lifting his arms above his head, with a sparkly rainbow appearing.

Patrick becomes mesmerized when Sponge Bob says you can be anything you want to be and Patrick says:

“A starfish!”

Squidword says:

“You already are a starfish.”

Patrick says:

“See, it really works.”

Just a simple matter of perspective………..

I am a firm believer, if you have the right shoes or sneakers on your feet, only good things can follow.

Without further ado, I introduce my recent, personal favorite….

Exuberance.

How many times in our life are we within these moments?

Sheer joy?

Glee?

Unfounded, unlimited happiness? Moments within which we feel neither the finality of morality, nor the limit of our beginnings?

I read today, or was it yesterday, on The Naked Soul: To Whose Beat Are You Marching To…, about stripping ourselves bare of the expectations of others that we carry, the expectations that have become our own.

I see a lost girl in a train station, too many bags too carry alone, no idea as to what is packed within them, but all stamped “necessary”.

Now I wish I could give you the visual of this, that I had the acumen of some of my fellow bloggers to insert the proper pictures within the proper space of the words, and someday I will, but for now, believe, that there is a space between the words where only visuals can be captured and then there is yet a larger space, although often undetectable, where only the emotion without words or pictures exists. In that space, only faith of heart exists.

Born

into this world

blessed

we crawl

we walk

we speak

years later

we find

we ask

are the words,

our words?

what we don’t question

is whether the feelings

are our feelings.

Are these my emotions?

My way of seeing the world?

Then we read too much, we write too much, we See too much,

we learn

our thoughts

our words

our emotions

may not be ours.

We turn,

and look around,

where next?

Ok, I must ask, have we nothing better to do with ourselves than criticize Britney Spears?

I glossed over news articles the — news? —last few days but today’s headline stopped me in my tracks:

Britney was bad, yes. But ‘fat’?

Actually, it is some of the headlines quoted within the headline of the above CNN article that got me going.

You see, I watched the awards and what I saw was someone who maybe was a bit nervous, maybe not, but that was my impression of the young woman. The second thing that hit me was, wow, she had two kids, isn’t she in wonderful shape?

Is she that much of a threat to some part of society I am unaware of that even her body must take verbal abuse?

Maybe it’s just me, but the use of the word “fat”, the existence of the word, just seems plain ludicrous.  So does the constant criticism of the young woman most of us will never know.  Have to wonder, why is it that so many enjoy seeing others down, and if in fact not down, well then certainly throwing enough energy their way to hopefully land them there?

Sigh.

I am feeling peaceful today.

I feel as I imagine it would be to be the river or a gurgling creek.

I find that there are moments when I have what some may call an intolerance for words. It is ironic because I earn my daily bread with words. It is ironic because I live to read. It is ironic because some of the greatest beauty I find in this world is how words sing, hum beyond the confines we put upon them, caging them in with alphabets and dialects.

Words though carry power. The absence of words also carries power.

I have met people in life that need words but appear to me not to even know they need them. Words rush from their mouths in torrents, chronicling minute details of their days and I sit and watch the mouth of the person speaking, the person’s eyes, the way the skin on their face moves and all of this observation somehow takes the place of me being able to hear the words themselves, I hear something beyond them, so when the pause comes as it does inevitably, I find myself still in this other dimension, the land of lost words, and nothing comes out of my mouth. I am in a place where I don’t know how to convert this “new” language, the language that goes beyond mere letters and I am silent. It does not mean I have not heard, thought, analyzed, emoted…I simply can’t translate these sensations into a comprehensible language.

When I say as I did above that I feel peaceful, it may not be the generally understood meaning of peaceful. I mean instead not that I am free of issues or “troubles”, but I am free of my need to hold onto them. Yes, they exist, but I also know a moment will come when those same issues will not exist, perhaps they will have taken a new form, but they do not weave themselves tightly into the fabric of the internal me. And this is what I mean by feeling like the river or the gurgling creek, I flow.

You can hurt people considerably by not being able to deliver to them what they need from you in a particular moment. It does not make them wrong, it does not make you wrong, but the hurt sits there, like an elephant in the room.

The question becomes, what do you do with the elephant? In my case, nothing, I walk past it if there are no peanuts in my pocket. Does it mean I don’t care about the elephant? No. It simply means that some things are bigger than us and have their own rhythms and the best we can do is flow with our own rhythms.

By flowing with our own rhythms, we come closer to allowing ourselves to be, and in doing so, stand a fair chance of also letting others simply be. Perhaps this is how I envision harmony or Heaven, where the levels of energy flow and do not push against each other.

So, be a river today, be a gurgling creek, just be.

Sometimes, it is ok to write for the sheer pleasure of writing, what I otherwise call the unleashing.

It is then also ok, to step into the quiet space.

When I studied Kabbalah, a huge portion of what I studied was to be in a place of no judgment.

Intellectually, I could not grasp it, isn’t having an opinion always a judgment?

Or is it what you do with that opinion?  If you breath life into it, if you fuel it without regard for where the recipient may be standing?

Do we have an underlying obligation to understand our audience before we judge?  Before we opine?  Before we cast the sword of unilateral intent?

I believe we do.

I know the power and the damage of words.

I know the importance of standing up, not just for oneself, but for countless others.

I also know, words are like stones cast, they are sure to land somewhere, and who are we at the end of the day, to dictate what someone else should feel?

I don’t know.

I know it is unfair to suffocate another’s heart, another’s opinion, I wonder, can we suffocate in reverse?  By not adding more words, timber, to the fire, do we suffocate those who need that interaction?

Perhaps.

Where is the balance then?  How do we learn to not judge?  How do we learn to not judge in our not judging?

Take One. The Additive Factor of Morality: Those that feel that they have lived a blameless life, have not examined the spaces in between the moments.

-copyright 2007: S.E. Designs

MotherWinterMoon has previously interested me in Hooponopono.

Now, I am barely at the crawling stage of learning about this Ancient Hawaiian tradition, to learn more you need to jump over to the Tag Cloud on MotherWinterMoon’s site.

I received an email today about a book by Joe Vitale, entitled:  “Zero Limits:  The Secret Hawaiian System for Wealth, Health, Peace and More.”

I think it may be worth a read, then again, I like to read and am always looking for new books.  I’m wondering, has anyone read this, and if so, any thoughts?

This morning, my brain was wandering and I realized that the energy of my search, my frenzied search to not only have all the answers at once, but to have the most simple of all answers at once, in regard to faith and spirituality, has slowed down.

I have a faith in God and always have for some reason. I no longer even know why except it is a part of me.

I do not believe in any one religion being the only right religion. I believe in the path of the human heart.

For some reason, the last few weeks, I feel less resistance, less need to struggle. Now that doesn’t mean I’m not still searching, remaining open and pausing when I see what I consider to be signs of other things that I don’t know, maybe can’t know, until I evolve in some other way, some other time.

In the meantime, I’m going to let my heart be the guide and not try to be right or know it all, and not be so hard on myself for not moving ahead in this evolution faster.

I’m going to go day by day and see the small miracles and welcome new revelations and love with an open heart doing the things I must and the things I enjoy.

I find it timely that this morning, Ronnie over at OutofmyHead sent a link to a news story she knew I would enjoy on Mother Teresa and I felt compelled to share it with the rest of you.

“Letters Reveal Mother Teresa’s Secret

CBS News

Posted: 2007-08-24 10:40:51

Filed Under: World News

(Aug. 24) In life, she was an icon for believers of God’s work on Earth. Her ministry to the poor of Calcutta was a world-renowned symbol of religious compassion. She was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize.

Photo Gallery: ‘Please Forgive Me’

AP

The nun, right, ministers to the poor in Calcultta, India, in 1979. “Where is my faith?” she wrote after starting work there. “Even deep down … there is nothing but emptiness and darkness. … If there be God — please forgive me.”

See also: Time Online

I ask myself, no, I hesitate as I type this, do I really ask myself?

I think not. I think I know, no, I know I know, what enrichment is….

It is a day not long ago, a trying one, and just when a pause interspersed itself, Louis Armstrong came on, singing Hello Dolly and I heard my grandfather singing, singing like Louis. Yeah, I know, no one sings like Louis, but if you heard my grandfather, you too would shake your head.

I read Ronnie’s post on The Door to the Universe is You and it fit, it resonated, and I said, damn, I thought my landscape was limited, I thought, with my headlamp, flashlight, and pickax meandering through the labryinth of my mind that I could find the creased bits of parchment to give me the map to the treasure chest, but you see, in my mind, in my search, the treasure chest had boundaries…I read Ronnie’s post, the door to the universe is you, and my heart exploded.

Let me add, as I wrote this, my husband, that beautiful man, was trying to get us ahead, up on a stool, changing lights and before I could type the word “exploded”, well, the bulb crashed to the ground, and yes, it exploded everywhere.

So am I enriched? More than I can describe. It is the hug of a child, slippery from the bath, throwing him upon a deep comforter to cushion the fun, the giggles, the sheer delight in the moment.

We are what we decide, no matter what life hands us. And yes, I have been handed lemons, but heck, it’s easy make lemonade. The thing is, I can’t help the lemons I have been given, so what choice is there? I’m in charge of me, I decide how I feel.

I have learned, I have many hats, I decide which ones I wear and when, and sometimes, just sometimes, I wear them all at once.

Enrichment?

Who decides?

You do.

Namaste.

I sit within a section of time

I have placed myself in the center

the bottom

of a yet unfolded cardboard box

I follow the arrows

further the crease at the folds

lifting

one by one

the four sides

around me

I am sitting

within my slice of time

unaware as to the continuum

the cardboard

my barrier

the rain falls against the air

creating a curtain

drawing light from within

the appearance of morning

it glows within in its own making

the box has a lid

I attempt to draw down

there is no handhold

there is no way

to close and seal

the last piece

against time

Today’s thought is taken from The New Revelations, A Conversation with God, by Neale Donald Walsch:

“Do not let a moment go by in which you have an opportunity to tell someone how magnificent they are. Do not let an opportunity pass in which you may offer praise. Give people the gift of self-esteem, and you will have given them a gift that many cannot find a way to give themselves. Yet when they find themselves through you, and return to their own most glorious vision and their own grandest idea of who they really are, they are lost no more, for you have returned them to themselves. Once they were lost, but now they are found.

To change people’s behavior, change people’s ideas abut themselves. To change people’s ideas about themselves, change their beliefs about Life and about God.

If you think that you were born in sin, are a sinner now, and will be a sinner always, how are you most likely to act? Yet if you believe that you are One with God, that you walk in step with the Divine, how, then, will you behave?

I tell you this: You are an angel.

You are the angel for whom someone is waiting today.”

So that’s it really isn’t it?

Today’s thought: be someone’s angel.

*Wikipedia on Neale Donald Walsch

Only at the Sky, -SE

Was there a time

When I knew more

Than I do today?

Three decades

Passing into four

How is it

I know less?

The trees

Shed

And rebirth

The same as the year before

I don’t know the last time

I climbed the branches

To count

Were there more

This season

Than last?

Were there less?

I breathed

Each morning

Looking

Only

At the sky

I drew in

And out

I took my foot

Reaching behind the knee

And found a tree

With a limb

Close to me

I climbed

Looking

Only at the sky

Join us.

We have launched a companion blog:  Antevasin:  The Search for the pure answers.

The focus is the search for pure answers.

This week’s topic is natural living & the acai berry.

We are looking for thoughts, comments, questions, other resources…in other words…fellow seekers’ words.

Namaste.

Tobeme a/k/a The Naked Soul today wrote a piece on The Magic of Life.

Now granted, I am a fan of his blog and often come away with something that makes me continue to chew, in other words, I rarely fully digest the words and spin them over, wondering as to the many paths, the many intuitions, the abundance of wisdom.

Today, I found myself again on the Naked Soul blog because I enjoy it.  Now days before, maybe just 1.5 or two, but I’m thinking less than two, I was challenging myself, asking myself:  What, what?  what is it you are seeking? What do you want?  What do you hope to achieve?

It came to me:  Magic.

I wanted to live within and know magic.

Not sorcery, no dark arts, but just plain and simple, knowing the undercurrent which causes all other things.

It could be termed so many different ways:  spirituality, Deeksha, Kaballah, Mysticism, Christian or otherwise, Paganism, Celtic Mythology,  etc.

What stopped me in my tracks as I thought down this road, is….were the alleged witches in Salem County doing anything differently?  Searching and wishing for something different?  Perhaps even for some possessing the inner knowledge?  And I thought, no, no and no.  And then I felt what only a shade of what it must have felt to be so accused, so damned, for simply searching for knowledge.  And know, it can happen yet again and does happen, day after day.

Now, I feel like the voice behind the cloak, the heavy hood, perhaps a signboard around my neck and a bell tolling in my hand, crying along the streets:  The End is Near.

It’s not what I intend, not what I want, certainly if I believe in manifestation, not what I should think about for even a moment….yet…I do.

Ok, ok, I have awhile yet to go to clear out the ego, to detach myself before I am free from such limiting thoughts…in the meantime…I am here, still questioning on this level.

I still want the answers, the bare bones, stripped to the core, pure beyond purity solution to what we all live and breath:  life and faith, humanity, how to get to the next level.

If I was playing a video game, I could consult a manual, a blog with tips, whatever, because we could get to the source of design of that one game, but, if we get to the source of design of this game, our game, will we get our answers?  will we be empowered or will we still be operating on blind faith?

That’s it.

Sin-e.

Finished.

Over.

You got that?

Ok, ok, I’m done.  Most of you that step over here quite often are used to me stamping my foot.  Truly though, I wondered today, suppose I said:  That’s it?  I’m done with my role as a woman?

I work, I love, I care, I clean, I keep track of appointments, I blog for God’s sake.  I do and do and do.

Oh, here we go, my evil twin has arrived:  “You think you do so much?  Imagine living without electricity?  Imagine having no food, not just all the food you desire?  Imagine working from sun up to sun down and beyond simply finding enough water for washing?”  Her voice goes on and on.

Yes, I have an evil twin.  Anytime I get tired or want to moan, she shows up, banging at the door.

I may as well let her in…she never stops knocking.

But hey, you out there, have you ever experienced that?  You simply don’t want to be polite, demure, kind, caring, and all the other words that we strive to embody as women?

I want to be the Goddess of Thunder.

Seriously, go read Romancing the Crone’s post on this, you will see what I mean:  Words of an Ancient Goddess.

I was gratified to come across a lovely post on Sibbia’s blog this evening.

My posts have been simple this week, rather quiet, reflecting the depth of silence in me and what I wait for it to tell me.

Sibbia said in such a moving way, how we can easily allow in a better part of ourselves, for those readers that believe in God, she has written concisely and simply of the easy steps to allow God in to lead you closer to yourself. At least that is what I have come away with….simple, refreshing, pleasing, just right. Indulge youself, take a peek, I doubt you will be sorry you spent a moment in such a lovely flow of thought.

There are days when there is nothing I want to say or post.

It is a period of being devoid of having anything new to say or an opinion that is not expressed elsewhere.

Perhaps it is uncertainty.  (And no, the “perhaps” was not a play on words).

Many people out here in Blogland have volumes to write in a seemingly endless and reliable fashion.

I am not one of those bloggers.

I find that silence is sometimes my best friend.  I have days where I absorb, I hear and think and feel what is going on around me, but I let it pass through without grabbing on to see what will settle and to not push myself into believing one thing or another.

A recent post here related to Widows in India, arguably only a very small percentage of a vast population, but the subject induced a long series of comments.  I understand why, the title alone:  Widows in India, did nothing to demonstrate that the subject was less than the entire class of Widows.  I could understand why someone who has lived and breathed in a Society, and has taken on obligations and watched others around take on obligations, would feel the need to enlighten us further.  I also understand the varied responses and different interpretations of others who commented on that particular piece.

It made me realize, not for the first time in my life, how much of this world is an illusion.  I say this because we all see the world with a different vision, different senses, different emotions, etc.  All of these “reactions” play out what our individual world amounts to, whether accurate or not, I am not convinced that there can ever be only one version, one vision.

-CNN

I was feeling dull today. I listened to the news, watched the news, surfed the news, and tonight I saw a tagline: What Would Happen If Everyone Cared?

I felt something shift inside. After all, isn’t that the secret I most cherish, the one I most chase? What would be the impact if everyone cared?

CNN, yes, again CNN, has provided me with something that aligns myself with hope. The quest: What would happen if everyone cared?

I clicked on the link and found Resources on how we, the little people, can help others.

I don’t know about you, but I do wonder about what happens thousands of miles from my home. I also wonder if there is someone I could be helping within a few blocks. That is the aim of Surface Earth. To eventually launch an easy way to help each other within towns and then let the strength of towns spill over. In the meantime, we search to see how others are helping each other, day after day, and today, we were struck by the CNN tagline: Impact Your World.

I’m wondering if God has a monogamous relationship with each and every one of us.

I don’t care much for religious thought, Biblical teachings, it’s not done much for humanity all of these years to enlighten us to prevent crimes against humanity or the lack of daily kindness.

I care instead about what I believe is the one and only true religion, the religion of the heart:  open, loving kindess.

Is it possible for God indeed to have a monogamous relationship with each of us?

I read the news and hear the news and I shake my head.  How is it possible?  Prayers of thanks are given by those physically saved in the midst of numbers mounting day after day of those that are unable to thank God for saving them, either because they are no longer on planet Earth or because they have suffered such circumstances that thanks are no longer in their vocabularly.

If it is true that God only responds to some prayers, some religions, some chosen people, then obviously God is not having a monogamous loving relationship with each and every one of us and is favoring some over others.

See, I can’t believe that, I truly cannot get that notion through my thick head.

The only other alternative for me then is:  God gave us the tools we need and some of us fail to use them….That’s what I want to believe, because then there means there is hope and something to look forward to, a greater, better human race that wants to improve.

Imagine the past as an Octopus.

-Wikepedia

The arms.

The tendrils.

Extending, reaching into your mouth, your eyes, ears, nose.

Slithering and grabbing hold of your mind.

You stand there,

watching,

allowing it to occur,

not caring enough

or

not knowing how to defend yourself.

Imagine then,

removing the tendrils,

taking them from your eyes, your ears, your mouth.

Remove the Octopus.

I’m trying to understand the hot news today, both involving three kids, 12, 11 and 10.

The first is two young girls who allegedly decided to kidnap their neighbor’s child. This time CNN is apparently looking inward to America and our depraved society. (This remark stems from a comment on my post: We Do This To Ourselves: India: Mistreating the Elderly and the Young in the name of custom. The comment did get me thinking more about media coverage, but like I said in my reply comment, that would require a host of other posts and I will leave that to other capable bloggers out in virtual earth).

CNN reports: Girl, 11, allegedly driving 100 mph with .02 blood alcohol, says, on way to pick up sister from a concert

I have to admit, when I saw a flash of this on the television this morning, I assumed it was a boy. As I read the article, I kick myself for making any gender assumption. Part of the article reads:

ORANGE BEACH, Alabama (AP) — Police who chased a car for miles along a highway at speeds up to 100 mph said the driver was drunk, hardly a rarity in this resort town. But there was more: When they looked inside the flipped vehicle with guns drawn, they found an 11-year-old girl at the wheel.

“You go up there thinking it’s a felon you’re dealing with,” assistant police Chief Greg Duck said.

The girl, who was slightly injured in the crash, is now charged with driving under the influence of alcohol, speeding, reckless endangerment and leaving the scene of an accident. Duck said she sideswiped another vehicle during the roughly 8-mile chase.

I just don’t get it. I’m not sitting here ready to blame the parents or anyone else. How do I know if the parents or guardian went to sleep at a normal hour and the kid pretended to be asleep, etc.? I just don’t know. I know we don’t hide the keys to the car in our house. The point is, what makes a child get behind the wheel of a car and proceed to incite an 8 mile chase?

As if that didn’t stump me enough, I had to see two other children, a girl aged 12 and one aged 10, who allegedly kidnapped their next door neighbor, a toddler boy. Again, the news came compliments of CNN.

I on some level have a need to understand how two kids came up with the idea and carried through on the idea to kidnap the little boy. On the other hand, I am just so grateful to see no one was hurt.

What’s going on? Sometime ago, we posted about the crowd that beat up the passenger in Texas, even though the driver who accidentally hit a young girl, stopped his vehicle to get out and check. The crowd beat up the passenger?

Maybe I don’t need to look any further than what happens with the adults in our country to understand why the kids’ seemingly outlandish behavior barely causes anyone to gasp any longer.

There are a lot of theories out there, calls to prayer, calls to enlightenment, I have got to be frank with you, I wish to heck one of these New Age techniques could work on this world instantaneously.

I read a lot about spirituality, powers untapped of the universe, etc.

Tonight, I enjoy a piece that Ronnie at Out of my Head wrote about how to take simple steps to make it happen.

Maybe some of you are like me, you need a picture drawn, not The Last Supper, but a small and well defined cartoon, few brush strokes to get to the heart of the matter.

Well, Ronnie did that for me, and yes, I guess I spurred her on a bit, but so what? I wanted the answer.

So few are these moments, listening now, late at night, work tomorrow, Opera, a silence again within the spaces, rivers of words find themselves upon the page, three pages to be exact, untitled…

1.

Holding onto children

the fear they will grow

away from you

remote

is as if

stuffing

spun cotton

sugar

into your pocket

to save for another

cold day

2.

I want to hear your words

as pictures

translated

visual

then I can see

your thoughts in between

where your mind stutters

stammers

filling in the gaps

between our language

my hair

now falling

pieces on my arms

I mistake such occurrences for insects

only

age

3.

What happens

when your stories

of stories

have become more familiar

to me

than

to you?

Open Letter to God (original)

Hi God.

It’s me, again.

I know that you hear me everyday, chatting, begging, pleading, reasoning-asking for faith. You would think the mere fact I turn to you is faith itself, wouldn’t You?

But I know me, and You know me, and I am wrestling with my ego, unwilling to give it up, unwilling, because I think I will lose me, and my faith in You in the process.

Is that what they call, a paradox?

My “second” letter to You I started in a small, discounted, bound leather brown book, gold edged pages, a piece of fabric to mark where I left off. Small enough to go with me wherever I choose, anywhere but in my pocket. I will get back to that, that the book I choose to speak to You within could not fit within the smallest spaces. But not yet God, not yet.

I started my book, the first page, like this:

“To any who may enter here, turning the pages – remember – this is my journey – my perception of the world. Without collective consciousness, you may find yourself lost and without understanding as to my wording, my intent, my context and that will be as it is.

Namaste.”

But I continued God, I turned the page.

Another day I said to You:

I am unsure whether it is truly a grand awakening or as we stumble step by step, we find ourselves in a new place of thought.

I desire in these pages to embrace my voice, my connection with God, to truly hear the voice of God and live with that knowledge.

We know so little, barely skimming the surface of this Earth. What can I say as to how much I know of ultimate Truth or knowledge?

I long to amass, piece by piece, a web, a ladder, a matrix of higher learning. Why is there so much unknown? It came to me that with a shift in the energy fields, a rebalancing, we could accomplish anything. We could form energy barriers to prevent destruction of humanity along shorelines. Energy bumper fields to prevent cars, trains and planes form impact and consequent calamity.

On some level, answers are known. At the point it becomes realized, we will have most likely also have abolished the need for mechanical transport.

The hardest part is breaking out of the self created barriers. The nine to five of the imposed Society.

I no longer have any aspiration to remain a lawyer. None. I find it distasteful and I resent people’s refusal to move toward resolution.

I want to cry. Big, tearing gulping sobs. It is my own own inaction that keeps me stuck in place.

Hi God. Yup, me.

Here I sit. In a “County”, a seat of justice. I drove down the highway, a torrential rain pour. I was lucky I even brought myself to drive 50 mph and the other people, flying by, driving so fast, do they wonder what would happen if they hydroplaned?

Same day, later than who I was this morning. So much later that I must try three times to flip the pages of this journal, so thick the leaf edge, I don’t dare believe I bought this for myself to speak to God. I throw down my old glasses, they fall from my nose anyway, so stretched the arms have become. I don’t need them to read these pages.

So, anything new?

There is so very much I write in my head, between the moments – now and before – it never gets on the page. For now, I will put aside this journal, this memorable me, put it aside and read the book I bought on Gandi. I so passionately want to continue reading and I will slip inside the realm of semi-consciousness sleep state, when I dream in guarded dreams of tomorrow.

*If they ever obliterate tactile writing and reading, I will elect to ascend, immediately.

Siting outside today, another day without a blackberry. How much more peaceful. Sitting outside, a small diner, with tables set out on brick pavers. Small sign says: ’sorry, we do not accept credit cards’.

Quickly I ask, how much for a cup of coffee and a toasted english muffin? $2.25, plus tax. I check. I have a five and some change, fair enough for a decent tip, I order.

I sit across from the courthouse, another case where settlement negotiations will change and the mood of the equity judge, King of all Kings, or as Alice said, the King of nothing, all at once, is less predictable than a storm at Sea.

I had a dream last night, I’m sure of not many things, but this I recall…a bird coming to land on my shoulder, momentarily frightened as I am not sure if it will claw me; then my fear becomes less and I began to worry of the bird relieving itself on my back. It begins to sing with me. I ran around to show people the miracle, but another bird, a small sparrow, flew into my mouth.

I’m tired now God. I will go, there is never a moment You don’t hear me anyway.

***Hey God, as an afterthought, I sound like I’m just stamping my feet.

***Upon further thought God, I need to say, although You know this already, I was in fact stamping my feet.  I complain about the justice system, about being a lawyer, and the simple fact is, I simply wish we lived in a world where we needed neither a justice system nor lawyers.  My acts of complaining about it, poking at different sectors of the system, does nothing to change the whole and only adds negativity.  So thanks for listening.

I am not a sophisticated listener of music, I only know what calls to me, and it is such a wide variety.

I sat this early evening outside, surrounded by trees which must be hundreds of years old, and I watched them watching me.

Did you know the movement of the trees, if watched with an open mind and without hurry, do not follow the patterns of proscribed wind?

The leaves move in different patterns, fluttering even within the stronger gusts, they are dancing and shaping themselves against the sky for us to read, if we could only but remember.

There are things calling me to go inside, the day to day events, chores, what you might call, existence, but I am enraptured by what I am witnessing, the leaves and the branches, the very limbs are acting against the wind and dancing.

The first symphony I ever have understood.

Suppose, you recognized that in the moments when you first awake from sleep, you have no name?

Suppose you recognized that in those few spare moments in the day there was no list, no bills, no anger, no complaints, no one outside of the limitless mind that you awoke to?

Limitless of course implying that you woke to some collective whole. As if whole could be separated from collective.

Switch………….

I recently read something…what a laugh as I am always reading…but I read something, I believe it was on The Spiritual Oracle…and I was questioning something, suprise, repeating number sightings I think, and someone replied that they had learned to accept what is and was…hmmm.

I think I get it now.

I have this odd occurrence daily, birds sweep and hover in front of my car, my windshield, it used to freak me out and I would duck…recently I shrug it off, knowing it means something, but also knowing I do not know the language of birds and I just better let it go. Now I am talking as if I have really mastered sitting back and nothing could be further from the truth, but I swear, I haven’t ducked so much in the last few days.

What helped me was thinking of children. Children don’t to our knowledge recognize the written language and it takes most years of integration to get them to conform and see it “our” way. Yet, a part of them recognizes the power of the written word, the mystical aspect, the magic, and will hold a book, a piece of paper, a dollar bill…and “pretend” to read. I recently saw this and thought: that is me on a spiritual search, I pretend to know the language.

Monteray, Chapter One has been moved to a new page, entitled:  Monteray, The Book.

Excerpts of Monteray have been transferred to a new page:  Monteray, The Book

Recently, I found myself with an extra hour in an unknown town. I took a ride and for some reason my head snapped in the direction of one of the hundreds of strip malls. I almost dismissed my head turning, because after all, there is rarely anything I want in the strip malls, save milk. This time though, I looked again, sure enough, there was a paperback bookstore, trading the old and still slightly new. What the heck, it was the Friday before Memorial Day, what better time to stock up on books, and cheaply at that…

I wandered in and was enchanted that I didn’t know my way around. They were kind enough to stick up index cards to show me the way. It took me quite a few minutes to even notice the index cards, let alone to understand they were showing me the way.

I wandered up and down and in circles, looking at my watch, afraid time had converted in that small shop and I would find myself late for a meeting that I actually had arrived early for just moments before.

I touched books, at first slightly recoiling, wondering who touched them before me, what they thought, why they picked the book to begin with….it didn’t occur to me how many people touch the books first that I claim as my own when I am in a store full of “new” books. For some reason, I felt it more strongly in this store, felt a true love of reading, felt so many desires, hopes, questions from other minds rushing out at me as I looked for my own answers.

I came across a tattered copy of “An Autobiography or The Story of my experiments with the truth”, by M. K. Gandhi. At first I didn’t want it, I felt the presence of the prior reader or readers too strongly and as I flipped through the pages and saw highlights on certain passages, I put the book down. I didn’t want someone else telling me what was most important inside of what could only be all important.

I went back to the shelf, it was only $6.99 and everything was further on sale by 50%. Ok, I had to get over myself and simply buy the book and forget about the past, the prior ownership.

Today, I sat waiting in Court for a case to be called. Surprise, I arrived early on a day full of the aftermath of another State’s tropical rains. I sat hunched on what should have been a church pew in an old forgotten historical building and I opened the book I had already begun to read and came upon a passage that made so much sense to me, more so because I am an attorney paid to speak:

“I must say that, beyond occasionally exposing me to laughter, my constitutional shyness has been no disadvantage whatever. In fact I can see that, on the contrary, it has been all to my advantage. My hesitancy in speech, which was once an annoyance, is now a pleasure. Its greatest benefit has been that it has taught me the economy of words. I have naturally formed the habit of re[-]straining my thoughts. And I can now give myself the certificate that a thoughtless word hardly ever escapes my tongue or pen.  I do not recollect ever having had to regret anything in my speech or writing. I have thus been spared many a mishap and waste of time. Experience has taught me that silence is part of the spiritual discipline of a votary of truth. Proneness to exaggerate, to suppress or modify the truth, wittingly or unwittingly, is a natural weakness of man, and silence is necessary in order to surmount it. A man of few words will rarely be thoughtless in his speech, he will measure every word. We find so many people impatient to talk. There is no chairman of a meeting who is not pestered with notes for permission to speak. And whenever the permission is given the speaker generally exceeds the time-limit, asks for more time, and keeps on talking without permission. All this talking can hardly be said to be of any benefit to the world. It is so much waste of time. My shyness has been in reality my shield and buk[-]ler. It has allowed me to grow. It has helped me in my discern[-]ment of truth.”

I often reflect upon the benefit of silence, not only for myself, allowing space for my soul to step in where my mind has mucked up the space, but also, the benefit to others, even though at first they may find my silence an affront.

Ironic, on the back of the book I have, there is a quote:

“I have nothing new to teach the world. Truth and non-violence are as old as the hills.” M. K. Gandhi

Yet, the practice of truth and non-violence is still regarded as new when we look at the world we continue to live in day by day.

As many readers here know, we often discuss what the world would be like without judgment.

I was just over at the 13 Graces blog and was looking at some of her link resources. I clicked on “One Kind Act” and found a post on something I have been struggling to articulate. Below is part of the post, I would encourage you to go read more:

“The story below is a true testament to the power of kindness, it really shows what one simple act of kindness can do, and it also reminds us that kindness can show up in many different ways!

Remember to be kind to someone today!

One Person at a Time
By Jon Gordon

“Can I have some money so I can catch the bus home,” the woman said to me as I walked down
Michigan Ave in Chicago last week. I had just spoken at a conference and was enjoying a several hour evening walk around one of my favorite cites- experiencing the energy and buzz of the big city.

I gave the woman a few dollars as she walked in step with me. “Do you know where the book store is,” I asked. “A few blocks ahead,” she said as she continued to walk with me. “I’m not really taking the bus you know,” she said.
“I figured that,” I told her.
“I live on the streets.””Why,” I asked.
“Because I just got out of prison for selling drugs,” she told me, “and I’m on parole so I can’t leave to be with my family who lives in another city.”

At first I wasn’t sure if I believed her but something inside me told me she was telling the truth. “I told you I was taking the bus,” she continued, “because a woman just told me I wasn’t dirty enough to give money to. So I had to come up with something else.” “It doesn’t matter to me,” I told her. “I give money all the time to homeless people. I used to ignore them thinking they would just spend it on alcohol but then one day I decided that what they do with the money I give is between them and God. I give to give and that’s between me and God.”

“Well, I’ll use it for a good purpose,” she said. “I’m trying to get my life together.” “You’re in pain, aren’t you,” I asked as we continued to walk. “Yes,” she said as tears started to well up in her eyes. “I figure I’m suffering right now for all I have done wrong.”

“You don’t have to suffer. Now begins the first day of your life. You’re not meant to suffer from what you have done wrong.” You are meant to learn from the past so you can create a better life and future for yourself. You’ve suffered enough. Now it’s time to forgive yourself and ask for forgiveness.”

“Are you a preacher or something,” she asked with tears coming down her face? “No,” I responded, laughing. “Honestly,” I said, “I’ve been inspired by the life of Jesus and the way he lived. I just try to love others in the same way. Not perfect by any means but I strive.” “Well you should be a preacher,” she said, “because I’ve never listened to any other preacher before.”

We then reached the book store, stopped for a moment and I gave her twenty dollars to enjoy a nice meal. But as I was about to say goodbye I turned and asked her into the book store with me so I could buy her one of my books. She agreed and we walked around the book store and sure enough there was one copy left. Then we walked over to the spiritual section and I had the impulse to also get her another book. As we stood there looking at all the books I heard a man and woman around the corner talking about love, forgiveness and God. Coincidence? I don’t think so. I went up to them and asked for their help in picking out a good book for this woman.

As they started sharing various books she might like I stood in complete awe of this moment. Three strangers, picking out a book for a homeless woman that could change her life forever. It was a miracle moment I’ll never forget.

The choice came down to two books and then I asked her, “Which one is speaking to you?” A huge smile came over her face as she pointed continuously to a book by Pastor TD Jakes. Then something interesting happened. I didn’t know where the checkout counter was but she did. She knew where everything in the book store was.

Then it hit me. “You’ve been here before,” I asked. “Yes,” she said. “I read a lot in the park during the day.” “So you use the money you collect from people like me to buy books,” I asked?
“Yes, books and food,” she said. “But these books will always be my favorite.” We walked outside and she gave me a big spontaneous hug goodbye.

As I walked down the street back towards my beautiful, expensive hotel I felt guilty for not doing more. I felt ashamed for wanting to wash my hands after she hugged me with her dirty jacket. I thought of the look on her face and the tears in her eyes and felt both her hope and sorrow. The experience touched me in the deepest part of my soul. I stopped to sit on a park bench and broke down and cried.

Please know that I tell you this story not to shine a light on me but to hopefully inspire you to reach out to a stranger and lend a helping hand and make a difference, somehow, someway. It is so overwhelming when we think of all the pain in the world and yet if we all do something we can accomplish a lot. This experience has inspired me to do more and I will.”

Welcome to the Earth, where we do things our way.

Trouble is…many of us don’t know why we do most of the things we do at all.

Today, on Ronnie’s Out of My Head Blog she asks what should be a simple question: what would happen, if for a day, we stopped our normal behaviors and instead turned toward loving kindness and healing?

I’m still pondering her thoughts…here, take a peek of just a few of her thoughts on this matter and let us know what you think………….

“Why Vote for the Worst Bugs Me So Much

May 19th, 2007 by Ronnie Ann

I just wrote about this in a comment and wanted to share it with all of you. This is about something far more important than just television. It’s about where we put our energy.

Do we use it to build wonderful things that help heal and provide joy or do we use it in a negative way, tearing down the efforts of others? Although clearly acting as the spoiler for American Idol has been entertaining to the creators and friends of Vote for the Worst, it’s still working on negative energy since it spoils the fun for so many others.

I always wonder what kind of world we’d have if everyone – for just one day – put their energy toward loving each other – loving all mankind – and healing the planet. I know that’s corny, but damn it…just imagine! As John Lennon said:

“Imagine all the people
Living life in peace…

You may say I’m a dreamer
But I’m not the only one
I hope someday you’ll join us
And the world will be as one.”

Do we always have to be doing things that take away from others? Can’t we stop being so self-absorbed and short-sighted and instead think about how our actions affect others – and even how aiming our actions toward the negative affects who we are as people?”

Perplexing isn’t it? And that is just a part of her longer post. Why should a thought so forthright and so “right” take so much thought to figure out how to kick it into existence?

If I had a choice, I would remain within the afternoon light, the moments that remain in the sky before full evening, bright enough to be daylight; yet, not glaring into the room…filtered, soft, casting dimensions of leaves across the teal spun walls

I would stay here and never enter into night again

When did night hold promise and not fear?

As a child awaiting the fireworks, secure within my place in the world, afterthought, nowhere else to go

no way to reach beyond where you are, child, so the obligation to continue, as if, never yet arose

you could be mad, angry, sad, frustrated, violated

the dimensions, parameters remained fixed

You did not realize you had the obligation,

the duty,

to look for a new place to be.

I wouldn’t now have given up morning…

the safety at the end of the night, the beginning of dawn of the sun rising yet again.

The safety brought when the dark bowed again to the light, enveloping…allowing us to see.

If we knew of vision that would make the nightime clear,

would we have sat upon it,

for profit?

Would it have been so oppressive, so fearsome, perhaps,

a slightly different,

backdrop,

a different hue,

but not within a canvas,

so saturated in color,

there was nothing left to see?

We hold on so tightly to this earthly existence. After all, why shouldn’t we?

Yet, as I read and continue to read about different religions, spirituality, ancient thought, the existence of angels among us, etc.; I question, if we are spirits here for an earthly experience, why do we hold so tightly and fear what is beyond and for some us, fear that this is a one time only performance?

Our Get out of the Box page, as well as Humanitarian Efforts and poetry and writing page are periodically updated. The Open Letter to God page, is a static page, remaining that way to allow for and welcome new comments. It is anticipated that we will update as time goes on to provide more letters to God.
Last night, we received a comment on our most recent post on Get Out of the Box, which we wanted to highlight and share with you today.

We look forward to more comments!

“In the book `Conversations with God’ the author asks why God allows such things as these to occur. God replies by saying, `Why don’t you?’ ( A collective ‘you’ as well as individual). In the course of reading from Mr. Walsch’s and God’s Conversations I begin to see that, while God could do anything, what ‘She’ will do is another thing. We can’t condition The Unconditioned by saying ‘It’ will or won’t do such and such, but it is clear enough, that while we are here, God would like to see US, WE, proceed to do the kinds of things you are aspiring to. WE, with God, can do anything, but it’s like we are be asked to make up our minds about what is important to us, and to behave accordingly. Our eternal lives do not begin at death. If they did, they would not have been Eternal! We are now, even with bodies, amidst our eternal lives- all
of us!

A program called Humanities Team is very much involved in helping the planet awaken. It declares `We are One’. You + I + God = ONE. It also declares” Ours is not a better way. Ours it but another way.”

( This name and address ‘cell’ is getting in the way of writing!)

Best to you, me,
Dave”

dave
April 23rd, 2007

We normally ask for others to share thoughts and ideas existing where people are trying to join together. This week Dave has highlighted a collective consciousness program which declares “We are One”.

For further information, go to the following websites:

Neal Donald Walsch, author of Conversation with God Series or go directly to Humanity’s Team Website.

I have read a lot for longer than I can recall in an effort to find the “truth”.

I have read even more in an effort to understand the origin of people hurting each other in an effort to promote eradicating the origins.

I have often and most times believed that we are mistaken in dividing ourselves.

Today I came across a piece in a newspaper, The Asbury Park Press, page AA7, that crystallized why I think and why I question and why I blog. Honestly, I first began blogging in an effort to launch what I call “The Zipcode Exchange”, strengthening from within, zipcode by zipcode, until we reach across the strands of the web and there is no place or person left untouched.

Then I began to reveal other thoughts and questions of life and God that caused me to create The Zipcode Exchange to begin with….and now, I want to share several fundamental reasons, which resonated as I read the article entitled: “For Astronauts, Earth view reveals the big picture.”

“It was the only color we could see in the universe…`We’re living on a tiny little dust mote in left field on a rather insignifcant galaxy. And basically this it it for humans. It strikes me that it’s a shame that we’re squabbling over oil and borders.”

-Bill Anders

Apollo 8, “whose photos of Earth became famous”

“The sheer beauty of it just brought tears to my eyes…If people can see Earth from up here, see it without those borders, see it without any differences in race or religion, they would have a completely different perspective. Because when you see it from that angle, you cannot think of your home or your country. All you can see is one Earth.”

-Anousheh Ansari, “Iranian-American space tourist who flew last year to the international space station”

“I think you can’t go to space and not be changed, in many ways.”

“All of the teachings of the Bible that talk about the creator and his creation taken on new meaning when you canview the details of the Earth from that perspective. So it didn’t change my faith per se, the content of it, but it just enhanced it, it made it even more real.”

-Jeff Williams, “spent 6 months on the space station and set a record for most Earth photos taken”

“You change because you see your life differntly than when you live on the surface every day…We are so involeved in our own little lives and our own little concerns and problems. I don’t think the average person realizes the global environment that we really live in. I certainly am more aware of how fragile our Earth is, and, frankly, I think that I care more about our Ewarth because of the experiences I’ve had traveling in space.”

-Eileen Collings, “first femal space shuttle commander”

“I left Earth three times. I found no place else to go. Please take care of Spaceship Earth.”

-Wally Schirra, “who flew around Earth on Mercury, Gemini and Apollo missions in the 1960s”.

**All quotes compliments of Sunday’s Asbury Park Press article as referenced above.

There have been moments in my life when I have forgotten, but most of the time, I see myself somewhere from deep space, just one more head poking into the atmosphere, feet on our Earth, with no clue as to why it is so.

Namaste.

Peace.

“

Many months ago I read an article in the New York Times Sunday Magazine.

The article addressed how some schools were starting a program where students could speak out. They could apologize for having made the unfortunate choice of picking on others, they could stand up and say many of you don’t know, but I am the sister of the autistic girl, the one you make fun of, who is more beautiful than you know and on and on.

It was about creating a voluntary forum for students to recognize the impact of their words on the lives of others.

I know I cried by the end of this article, reading of these children, so brave when having to face a quiet, silent peer pressure, stepping out to ask forgiveness or to ask for human identity.

Why this should be a new concept is beyond me. I don’t know.

What would happen if children learned in the home, in the media, in the school from an impressionable young age, that when you make fun of and gossip about others, the harm is to themselves, they lose their own dignity? What would happen if children were taught that “character is what happens when no one is watching”?

I watched on CNN this morning a story about a brilliant young woman, who was labelled autistic. She was able to use a computer, and/or keyboard with a voice simulator to speak in “our” language.

She said on the program what I have always believed since I was young: it’s a two way street. I believe I found the direct link to her blog, if I’m wrong, feel free to drop a note: Amanda’s Blog.

The link to this fascinating and eye and soul opening blog was found on Andy Carvin’s blog.

We the non-autistic people may believe there is something “broken” in the ones with autism. As she said, if you can’t understand us, we’re broken, and if we can’t understand you, we’re broken.

In other words, the view and focus for so long has been on what is “wrong” with the autistic mind, not what is wrong with us that we have constrained ourselves into such a limited channel of intelligence and communication that we are the ones that cannot communicate on the level of “autism”.

It’s not just in the schools when even teachers ridicule children or fail to see for many school should be a safe haven, a place of growth, and a misplaced word can do such severe damage it can only be undone by disastrous consequences.

Yes, yes, we must teach our children a foundation within themselves that cannot be shaken by mere careless or hurtful words, but in the meantime, we need to check our words, our faces, our “looks” at others, until we can build the foundation within ourselves.

Watching groups of young children, I sometimes wonder, do they already have that center, that open heart, that lack of malice in judgment and in effect do we teach them to unlearn that natural love?

We can create peace daily. It can be as if a wave that washes over every moment and interaction and we can build a stronger more loving society. Forget statistics, forget whether evil is in born and who is to blame for this vs. that. If we took responsibility each moment for the thoughts we project and the consequent actions they produce, if we stopped negativity before it began…..it is anyone’s guess what enormous gains humanity would reap.

I tried to write this post twice before, but started off with “hey”.

Not your choice of greetings?

God, I have to be honest, because whether I am or not, I have a feeling you will know.

I went into spiritual depletion.

I toured and trolled this virtual earth for the right answer to you.

I checked out raw diets and it was only days later, I noted there was little reference to you. Don’t eat sugars because they rot your teeth.

Ok. I’m old enough now to see the wisdom in that.

Yet, you intended for us to have this free food, no?

I don’t eat meat God. Just can’t get the hang of it. Don’t know how to divorce the picture of an animal that has family tendencies from what lands on the plate. Yet I will cook it, for anyone that visits, that needs meat.

I eat seafood. And yes, I stuggle, because there is a huge contradiction in what I believe and what I do. But I have to admit, there were moments in my life where I stuggled eating vegetables because I thought I heard them scream.

I read in one of Sylvia Brown’s books that we don’t have to eat when we pass on, and I resisted that. Now, I’m not so sure why I did as I was afraid that eating vegetables I could hear them while I chewed.

Mark it down to mental deficiency.

Fine by me.

God, I spiraled.

So convinced I was anti-religion that I began to actually seek comfort in what I grew with, Catholic doctrine.

I did something new this week though. I spiraled and crashed and then gave it to you.

I lost a case in Court and I was baffled that no one in the room cared that what occurred was improper and I got in my car, developed a migraine and then stopped…..I had promised to give it to you, no matter what, to guide me. Once I realized that and handed it over again, I smiled and I remembered to thank you for my smile.

So God, I don’t know what to follow. I’m not even good at being faithful to my belief in you. But I’m telling you what you already know, aren’t I?

I need you.

I know that much.

I have read a lot here at wordpress.com on why we blog.

What we do with blogging, what we shouldn’t.

I have only one thought: (*lie)

Blogging for us here at surface earth is to be the the food processer of thought.

We search, we troll, we are always on the edge of the eternal question, why?

Fascinated by manifestation, the law of attraction, healing, faith, religion, spirituality….what we really want to know in all of the questioning is why?

What is the common denominator of all the thoughts mainifested?

Is the missing integral simply faith in the unknown?

None of us know, or so few of us that they have not been able to harness the resources and bind it in any publishable form.

We don’t know why we are here, we don’t even know where here is and yet we place rules and regulations upon this supposed life…………….why?

Thought for the day:

Some artists leave us no room to create in between their spaces, the spaces between the notes are so full.

We must just sit and listen and if God or the Universe graces us, we must put up our feet and listen, yes, listen and hear.

There are other artists that leave us room to fill in the spaces, words are never divorced. Do you know what that is, to tilt your head to hear the music of words before they hit the page, a waterfall flowing? How can words ever be separated?

To edit or not to edit?

Stream of consciousness writing is an integation of emotion and energy without ego……