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Sound of rushing water in my ear 2014,hearing loss in older person resumen,action on hearing loss video on demand - Plans On 2016

Author: admin | 13.08.2015 | Category: Homeopathic Treatment For Tinnitus

I went to a workshop at Omega Institute, Rhinebeck, New York, and I had a few early morning hours dancing seemingly alone in the moonlight, which will stay with me.
It was 4:00 am on that other morning, and I had slept soundly and felt rested and excited about the learning that was occurring in me, but I also felt completely alone.
This is the day I have set aside to explore my close surroundings before I head out on my Maui adventure activities for the next seven days. As I allow the disappointment to get as big and painful as it needs too, something happens that has happened many times in my life during difficult experiences. During a recent trip to Maui, I rediscovered that beautiful child in the eyes of the aging woman Ia€™ve become.
For many years, I searched to be a better person, to become wiser, and to learn how to live a full and productive life, and to be admired. Patience has been my work this year and Ia€™ve learned much about the difference between tolerance and patience. The voting was heavy and because most of us know each other in some way, our politics are often known.
As Zacha€™s son-in-law returned to the inside of the voting precinct to witness the casting of Zacha€™s vote, he said two simple words: Thank you.
Later heading home, fatigue turned to laughter and memory recorded these shared emotional experiences of inspiration. The written word has often been the way spiritual messages have been received during my Life.
The human survival instinct supports us in seeing what is there that needs to change or is threatening to us. Sometimes an old message said in a simple direct way can change the Life of the one who truly hears it. Since that time, I have written of the learning that came from my choice and consequently his choices.
As I was leaving the workshop, a young woman came up to me and asked me to share what meditation had meant in my life. My deepest longing is to love and be loved and yet fear can hold me back by expecting perfection. Michael Singer wrote a book called The Untethered Soul, and it speaks of the way to let the personality desires play out while the Seer of what is transpiring watches without judging or clinging to an outcome.
It has been some seventy-two hours since I began this essay and then stopped writing because I realized I was living in a huge story and could not write authentically from that place.
It has been seven years since this small community called to me and embraced me within its furry mountains and quiet streams.
During the last few weeks, I have begun to feel that my time here in this small community is limited. The rock in the creek feels cold against my warm skin in contrast to bike riding on this hot day. When he turns, his familiar face and eyes are beaming toward me as he explains that he is looking for the rock we used in meditation the last time we visited the creek.
His love for me is visible in the steady gaze of his eyes, and it both comforts and frightens me. It is late evening and Mark Nepoa€™s words speak to me; his writings have been an inspiration in many ways during the past few months. At first, the feeling is a bit overwhelming and tears flow as I remember Nepoa€™s request to include looking at the lighted candle as part of my meditation. It is spring again; forty-eight years have past and yet my memories of a small toddler are as vivid as every. It is good to remember the joy of him running across the yard, small frog in hand and joy in his face, panting as he recalls how challenging it was for him to catch it.
He made the team, got a new girlfriend, went off to college, had much success, and oh so many friends. May the light in the eyes of our children remind us of the light that is possible in our own.
Mark Nepo is my author of choice the last few days, and his writing speaks to me in the silence of my being and I am changed by what I hear. Those who have poor vision, those who have less than average senses of taste and smell, those who have physical difficulties, those who have hearing challenges, what do they have in common?
My friend has learned to angle his head in a certain way that tells me he is listening carefully sometimes cupping his ear with his hand. Recently Ia€™ve been seeing growing older as a limitation; an ache here, a gray hair there, a bit of fatigue at the end of the day, a need for a short rest more often, a wrinkle on the back of my hand, a need for glasses more often. As the mother, the blind childa€™s face filled with wonder inspires me to see more clearly through her blindness. As the cherry blossom, I stand in the glow of the sun knowing that I add beauty and wonder to the earth and to its inhabitants. Mark Nepo in his book, The Awakening, asked the questions: How am I different from others and how am I the same. In this silence, the wisdom of Lamotta€™s quote is known somewhere deep in the part of me that I share with all others. Each of us experiences death of our physical body, each of us grows physically from birth to death, each of us is capable of thought, each of us experiences the pain of physical life and the joys. I believe deep in our core of being, we are each a small piece of the Universe, and we have manifested into this unique physical form equipped with the tools and a gift we need to create our healing part of the collective. As I began to ride the bike, it seemed a bit big for my frame and often my back hurt after riding a long distance, so I chose to buy a new girla€™s bike. Two days ago, a new friend suggested he would like to go biking with my group, but his bike needed repairing. On the ride back to the trailhead, my friend and I rode together; I shared that the bike had belonged to my son and he was the first to ride it besides me.
A limiting beliefa€”just as it soundsa€”is having a thought about the past, present, or future that keeps you from seeing what is true in the moment you are living right now. This natural symbol of equality of day (light) and night (dark) is a reminder that light and dark are different not better or worse. Equality is a slippery word in our culture and the term is often used to compare one thing, one thought, one person, and one event to another. This search for meaning has brought me to this autumnal point, and to a knowing that equality is expressed within through an attitude of a€?non-judgmenta€? about what we can see, smell, hear, taste, and touch through our five senses.
Recently in a difficult discussion with a male friend about equality between genders, I suggested that our older generation seems to have more difficulty with this deeper feeling of equality since our culture has encouraged stories about superiority vs. This experience has supported me in looking closely within me to see where I discover feelings of inequality as a part of my physical existence.
Observation of the equality of light and dark during this Fall Equinox reminds me that deep equality means no judgment or comparisons are needed.
During the past few weeks, Ia€™ve spent time at the Wintergreen Nature Foundation as a volunteer. One particular Saturday, a call came that a baby rabbit had been very still in the garden for a long time and appeared injured. A few days later, I was the human contemplating the impermanence in nature and wondering what to do.
Recently I met my daughter and her family to fulfill her wish to visit the two homes where she had been a baby. As I approached the door, I remembered my husband carrying me across the threshold; I remembered bringing my son and daughter home to the loving arms of an extended family that had arrived to celebrate their coming into Life. Unbelievably, the man and woman that had bought the house from us still lived there, and it felt wonderful that they had continued to add their love of the house to ours.
Neighbors dropped in yesterday and provided me with fun, friendship, and an unexpected sacred moment. It was a balmy late spring day and the hydrangeas were in full bloom and served as a backdrop as we drank smoothies, ate rice chips and salsa, and enjoyed a glass of wine on my screened porch. We shared how important it is to avoid fearful story-telling about what is happening and to simply deal with what is happening right now in the present moment.
My friend is out of town and some part of me is pleased by the freedom that gives to me and I have an authentic knowing that he is doing what enriches his life. As I sit typing this, I realize that my day is my own creation and whether or not I act from a place of fear is all up to me. From some people the question triggers a feeling of annoyance within me, and I sometimes give them an answer like, a€?nothing special just the usual things or therea€™s always plenty to do.a€? It is more avoidance of responding from annoyance than an answer.
As I examined my feelings during these different experiences, I discovered the part of me that wants to be what the other person perceives me to be, a busy, active, interesting person. It is a reminder that I am not here to fulfill anyone elsea€™s expectations; I am here to find meaning and purpose for my own life. This morning I awaken to the gentle sound of rain, and I snuggle down into the nighta€™s accumulated warmth under my blankets. Again no thoughts come, just an incredible presence and knowing that in each moment there is beauty and nurturing for the soul for the taking. If unused muscles and bones create a message to the brain that their dysfunction is normal until the imbalance creates pain, is that also true of emotional dysfunction?
The physical discomfort is in my second energy center, which I understand to be the energy center of creativity and belonging, and it is sending me a message.
A few days ago, Eckhart Tollea€™s book, called The New Earth, was mentioned in a conversation with a friend, and I had a knowing that I wanted to reread it. In that moment, I began to look at my choices during the past few months and the intentions behind them.
Tolle goes on to say that if you can neither enjoy or bring acceptance to what you doa€”stop. In that moment, I chose to look into his clear blue eyes and said, a€?Hi.a€? He didna€™t look at me, but his eyes were alive with the joy and pure light of the incredible sun that rose through the window of the elevator. In gratitude, I left the elevator carrying the gift of pure light that had come to me from the sun through a young man that reflected it.
Spent the first couple days on a high-speed grind across six states I'd already crossed and re-crossed dozens of times since college. I did consider passing the miles by counting trees (Hey, I've done similar with kayak strokes by the thousands) but there were just too many of them. I finally just shifted into Stoic mode -- which I'm good at a€“ hunkering down and staring at the road ahead for dangerous debris. Occasionally I see an annoying sign alongside the highway and latch onto its theme to pass the time. My traveling companion (I'd say my pal) Kawasaki has been behaving and is giving me 50 mpg. Who knows, you may get lucky and I'll be left speechless by the beauty of the Great Plains. In the 62 years I've been consuming corn -- popped, on the cob, candy corn, tortillas, chips, corn syrup and liquor -- I'm sure I haven't eaten more than an acre's worth, tops two. Spent most of yesterday crossing Missouri on Route 70, a nondescript stretch of highway notable mostly for its gentle undulations -- like a kiddie roller-coaster -- and the amazing number of billboards atop 50-foot stanchions lining both sides of the road. The pace is going well enough that I'm giving up the interstates for the smaller, slower roads.
The drawback to abandoning the interstate is no longer having the shelter of the underpasses when there's rain or lightning. 98 degrees yesterday, possibly higher today, and the engine I'm straddling ups it even further. But, as they tell you at the beginning or end of many church services, "This is the day we are given.
Drove up into the Bighorn Mountains yesterday to get some relief -- and it did knock 10 or 15 degrees off.
Spotted a fluid leak from my rear axle, which is a concern because I have limited tools with me and even less know-how.
But I remember seeing it in 1952 and unless they've added some guys up there, I figure I'm covered.
This stark, barren topography of northern Wyoming looks so familiar to me, and I realize it's from that 1952 trip when the Old Man drove Mom and us four boys out here to see the national parks. Traveling in the car with him was like being confined in tight quarters with a very cranky grizzly bear. Aside from the 1,500 miles of lush farmland from Ohio to Nebraska and the Bighorns, I liked the Black Hills of South Dakota lots -- if you erase the tourist towns of Custer, Sulphur Springs and Keystone, which are pure kitsch. Last night I drove far afield and couldn't make it back to a population center where they might have brand-name lodging -- Holiday Inn, etc. The large dining was was empty except for five young waitresses on break, sitting at a round table with a quiet young fellow about their age. The youngest and smallest of the ladies -- I'd say she'd just finished high school, or was about to -- came over and asked if it was cold outside. Then she grabbed a telephone and called her boss, who apparently had composed and printed the menu.
The other waitresses had jumped up and gone through the entire supply of new menus, only finding the a€?bubesa€? misprint in four of them.
I pulled out a map to occupy myself: Yes, I was the one who found the typo, but I was laying low on this topic. Still bothered by the SUV rollover I came upon three days ago high in the Bighorn National Park.
The lone occupant of the vehicle, a Jordanian student working at a park resort for the summer, had multiple and truly grave injuries -- fractures, gashes, internal bleeding that was bloating his belly.
Although successive people held his hand and tried to encourage him -- and a passing doctor and EMT specialist did all they could -- what he really needed was an operating room, quick. So he lay in agony alongside the road for almost two hours until an ambulance arrived from a town 30 miles down below and carried him to a patch of road that was flat and open enough for a medevac helicopter to put down. As for the rodeo action, for me it was like expecting to see the Yankees and getting the Newark Bears -- not even a€?single-Aa€? ball.
Many lassoes were flung but few calves were roped, barrels mostly got knocked over in the circle-the-barrels horse races, and nearly every cowboy immediately got bounced off the bucking broncos and bulls. The most fun of the night was when they invited all kids 12 and under to the arena floor to win a prize for snatching ribbons ribbons tied to the tails of three calves running loose.
I was hoping the boy, who appeared bright enough to do it, would remind him that New Hampshire was one of the original colonies, but maybe he was too polite. The Testicle Festival near Missoula, Mont., is in mid-August this year, and I'll be long gone.
So many bikers around the South Dakota-Montana-Wyoming junction that everyone's a€?quit waving.
The road west through the Lolo Pass into the Bitterroot Mountains overlies, in part, the path of the Lewis and Clark Expedition of 1805-06. For me, to travel over the same ground covered by these 32 brave and resourceful men (never forgetting the remarkable Sacajewea with her baby) is an electric experience.
For me, to drive along this pathway -- now Route 12 -- was a privilege and an honor I can't properly put into words.
The journals of Lewis and Clark are among the great American documents and the best kind of adventure tale -- a true story experienced by people we hope we could emulate. Two of them were in a motel in Grand Island, Neb., two in a passing car in South Dakota and one in a roadside softball game in Nevada. True, I haven't gone through any real cities, but I'm wracking my brain and I can't recall seeing any other African-Americans. In the category of What Else Is New?: a€?In Riggins, Idaho, a rough-feeling former mining town on the Salmon River, now a a€?summer rafting center, a 50-ish tourist I'd seen an hour earlier strolling on the street a€?lurches away from the Salmon Inn, a billiards joint that sells beer and pizza. Rolled my bike out of my brother-in-law's San Diego garage, reset the odometer to zero from the 5,060 miles recorded on the westbound leg, and I'm off!
The terrain turns bleak just a handful of miles east of San Diego: Barrenness, rock piles, occasional scrawny bushes. In this visual monotony, the mind drifts and I recall driving past a menacing looking blockhouse of a bar in San Diego that had a foot-square white sign on its door. From Yuma east to Tucson is Moon-like landscape with scrub brush and mountains in the distance. Had the joy, in the far outskirts of Phoenix, of spending eight hours or so talking with Bil Canfield, the best cartoonist The Star-Ledger and before that The Newark Evening News, ever had.
Drove -- and drove some more -- east through the startling sprawl that is Phoenix and into the Pinal Mountains. I drove nearly all the way across New Mexico staring at the a€?skies: Fortunately, the straightness of Interstate 10 let me do it without a€?wrecking.
I know it's a vestige of my time in the military, but I have a great a€?aversion to people in uniforms. Well, this strip above the Mexican border-- from California across to Texas -- is positively crawling with uniforms.
You see them in McDonald's, they're racing around in trucks, they're in helicopters scouring the desert, they're at random checkpoints miles north of the border. The waitress was a bubbly local girl named Cindy who was pleasant enough but had a voice so shrill it pierced to the bone. There's a lot of guys in these parts driving pickup trucks in what I would call a hostile manner. The 140 miles of Route 180 north from El Paso to the Guadelupe Mountains National Park are little-traveled but gorgeous. I left the bike on the shoulder of the highway and walked off 100 feet to try capturing the scene with my camera.
He gives me the exact mileages, tells me how long it'll take to get there, says where to turn en route and notes that there's 18 miles of construction along the way but it shouldn't slow me down. The sky heading north into West Texas was all bright and blue except for one dark patch, which grew larger as I rolled onward As the black area expanded I could see lightning strikes and columns of rain in its core.
I sped up -- to 90 mph at one point -- figuring I would outrun it or outflank it, but the storm always stayed directly before me. While I was struggling to put a tarp over the bike, a blocky lady sheriff in a gray-panted uniform ran out of the diner to her cruiser.
I covered my bike, took a photo of the nastiest looking sky I've ever seen and sprinted to the safety of the diner.
The young fellow, wearing a Texas Tech T-shirt, brushed dead flies off my table next to the front window. Half a dozen were bouncing against the window pane and others were flitting on and off about every surface in the place. I ordered a coffee and burger and waited, taking comfort in being in a safe place with a kid who seemed to understand weather conditions I didn't. In another few minutes I gave up trying to clear my helmet visor by hand: I lifted it and took the rain in my face.
I couldn't judge which way the storm was traveling, so there was no evasive actiona€?to take.
I spent the better part of one day crossing the length of Oklahoma east to west with a 30 mph blow going on. Finally, Cheryl got them all up and busy, filling sugar bowls and wiping down chairs in advance of lunch, and I left.
So many bikers around the South Dakota-Montana-Wyoming junction that everyone's quit waving. I'm saving one Butte mystery for another visit: How a bar in a blue-collar neighborhood next to the pitmine got the name Helsinki Yacht Club. I get the impression a lot of folks out here don't much care for Easterners, or maybe it's just me personally they don't like.
In the category of What Else Is New?: In Riggins, Idaho, a rough-feeling former mining town on the Salmon River, now a summer rafting center, a 50-ish tourist I'd seen an hour earlier strolling on the street lurches away from the Salmon Inn, a billiards joint that sells beer and pizza. A A  Had the joy, in the far outskirts of Phoenix, of spending eight hours or so talking with Bil Canfield, the best cartoonist The Star-Ledger and before that The Newark Evening News, ever had. A A A  Drove -- and drove some more -- east through the startling sprawl that is Phoenix and into the Pinal Mountains. A A A  I drove nearly all the way across New Mexico staring at the skies: Fortunately, the straightness of Interstate 10 let me do it without wrecking. A A  I know it's a vestige of my time in the military, but I have a great aversion to people in uniforms. A A  The waitress was a bubbly local girl named Cindy who was pleasant enough but had a voice so shrill it pierced to the bone. A A  There's a lot of guys in these parts driving pickup trucks in what I would call a hostile manner. A A  The 140 miles of Route 180 north from El Paso to the Guadelupe Mountains National Park are little-traveled but gorgeous.
A A  I left the bike on the shoulder of the highway and walked off 100 feet to try capturing the scene with my camera. Sometimes, and sometimes it stays as smooth as a round diamond dropped from another planet, more beautiful and precious than you remembered.
This morning I went out to feed Sally and Bob but I couldna€™t find the scoop for the new sack of oats. Last night on the radio I heard Slim Frye had been killed, in a car crash in West Texas, and the Reno DJ played several of his songs as I remembered his red Porsche rushing past the sage and leaving the trail of fancy dresses and guitar before I found her walking alone in high heels along the desert road. That first night after the chicken dinner Jodie madea€”after Ia€™d joked, a€?So wea€™re going to be famous?a€? and Jodie had turned over my palm and showed me our hands were the same, the little star where the life and heart lines meta€”we went out into the summer yard. I carried the lawn chairs from under the dusty branches of the cottonwood and Jodie sat back, looking up at the sky while I played the guitar and we sang the songs Jodie was sure would change our lives and those of a million strangers. A a€?Then she was quiet, temporarily calm about our budding career as sure-fire country stars. Jodie gazed at the scattered distant stars, as if her real home was a distant world and on Earth she was a stranger. There was hurt, a private bitterness in her voice, and I felt a sudden wave of sympathy for the woman Ia€™d known since noon.
The different stars blinked white and red, blue and green, and I remembered by its color you could tell a stara€™s age, whether it was young and new or dying, burning out, though I couldna€™t remember what colors showed youth or age, birth or death. I pulled out clean sheets and pillowcases from the hall cabinet, and Jodie took them from me and there was a second of awkwardness as our hands brushed. She sounded wistful, as if she were fighting a future disappointment or regret, but then shea€™d had a long day that could have turned scary. Then she went into my parentsa€™ old room and closed the door and I shut off all the lights and lay back in bed, looking up through the dusty screen at the sky beyond the cottonwood. As I closed my eyes I remembered the touch of her fingernail as she traced my palm that was like her own, that her mother had read when Jodie was a girl, telling her that someday shea€™d sing for the President. In jeans, Western shirt and boots, and her hair pulled back, Jodie was cooking pancakes at the stove. In the morning light at the window we ate pancakes with hot syrup and bacon and drank our coffee among circling, rising red and gold dust motes. She stood at the sink with her back turned, humming a€?Current of Lovea€? as I got up to go out to the barn. I had one horse saddled when she came through the barn door with something wrapped in one of my mothera€™s old blue plaid tablecloths. Jodie dug her heels in sharply and the mare bolted past Bob before I could grab the bridle, galloping down the road past the house.
We raced across the high pasture toward the creek and Jodie beat me by ten yards as we reined in.
We crossed the shallow ditch and trotted across the pasture toward the dry hills that came down in spread fingers. With Jodie in the lead we took a game trail up the spine of the longest hill until we reached the high wall of mountain.
We let the horses pick their way up the steep broken slope, through rock and manzanita toward the pines along the ridge.
Jodie pointed toward the far edge of the pasture, at the lone pine and the small square of iron picket fence with white stones inside. We started the circuit of the bowl, moving in and out of the scattered line of pines on the curved narrow mesa. I held Jodiea€™s hand as we walked gingerly across the twenty yards of arrow chippings and splintered fallen rock. She turned, squinting as she looked back at the bed of glittering shards.a€?a€?a€?They knew this place,a€? Jodie said.
I took her other hand and we crossed the carpet of glass, then rode on, looking east away from the valley, toward the broken buttes and towers beyond the mesa. We rode on for half an hour, following the valley side of the ridge, until I saw the big Jeffrey pine. We sat down and Jodie served the chicken and the mashed potatoes shea€™d fried in cakes onto paper dishes. We rode a mile the way we came, not talking, Jodie a few yards in front of me, until I found an easy slope. I stopped among the cottonwoods where the water bubbled up and pooled behind the stone weir before it curled down the creek bed. I remembered Slim Fryea€™s red Porsche as now Jodie stood, looking at the trees that circled the pool.
I walked in, feeling the shock of the pure cold pool, and dived, pulling down through the strong upwelling water.
Gold specks drifted down like dust, past the three bright slanting bars that always looked like searchlights hunting for treasure. I treaded, looking over at the cottonwood as Jodie stepped out in a white lace bra and panties. Then she made a quick dive with fingers and toes gracefully together, came up saying a€?Brrrrrra€? like a kid and working her shoulders in a shiver, then breast-stroked out toward the middle.
Under her excitement Jodie was breathing unevenly, splashing a little raggedly at the water. I leaned down and didna€™t know Jodiea€™s sweet scent from the crushed sweetness of the grass as I felt her shoulder for the thin strap.
Holding Jodie as we made love in the valley where I was born, I felt everything Ia€™d held back for so long give way and rise like our bodies in the river rushing from the rock toward the sunlit water and the speckled shadows of the shifting leaves. We glided forward underwater, kicked up, took a breath, turned and stroked down through the green light to the open door that whispers things and glints with quartz from the dark walls beyond it. I went down to the bank and slipped into my clothes and boots, then walked back and picked up Boba€™s reins from the grass, leading him over to Sally. A Then she was quiet, temporarily calm about our budding career as sure-fire country stars. She turned, squinting as she looked back at the bed of glittering shards.a€?They knew this place,a€? Jodie said. From the wide trunk I lifted the tin dipper from its nail, ran it through the water, then dipped it full and handed it to Jodie. As she grasped the door handle, Don Ho, her over-weight Boston Terrier, jumped up on the window and barked. Then, up ahead he saw her, dressed in a long white sarong-like thing, waving her arms, her blurred, ghostly image caught in the headlighta€™s beam beyond the rhythm of the wiper blades. Operating under the theory that when one dispatches onea€™s undergarments in the path of oncoming vehicles, ita€™s wise to proceed aggressively, Lani pounded on the drivera€™s side window.
The rain had eased up, but she realized she was drenched to the bone.A  Lani debated whether to give him her real name, in case she had missed her hunch and he turned out to be a cop or an attorney or something. She anticipated him offering his hand, but thankfully, he didna€™t.A  He looked as if he had thought about it, then reconsidered. Her eyes were enormous, as brown as polished stone, and made him look into them longer than .
That seemed a sufficient explanation to her; she spun around and started in that direction. She glided away a few feet and now stood considering him pitifully.A  a€?Guess youa€™ll have to help me now, Mr.
Lani walked casually to the car, pulled his jacket tighter to her bosom and looked away.A  Billy hesitated, cast an exasperated glance at the car and the dog inside. As if it had telepathically received his thoughts, the dog threw its squat body at the window again and resumed barking. The dream, as dreams often do, took Billy to places he had never been before.A  But, since this was a prolonged dream, as opposed to those experienced during sleep, those which occupy mere wisps of elapsed time . Besides that, seeking a more rational grasp of his environment, searching for symbols of logic (even dream logic) surmounted the alternative: speaking with his bearers. Billy was out of sight when Lani reached the interior of the emergency room.A  A set of double doors separated the waiting room from . There were two other people in the waiting room watching a sit-com on a TV set mounted high on one wall.A  A computer keyboard responded with almost silent spastic rhythms to its operator somewhere beyond a set of sliding glass windows set in the wall. It was with mixed emotions that Lani followed that noise and stepped to the glass windows.A  Her involvement in this accident had been more than simple happenstance; after all, who was it that flung her little white undies into his path? The big, blonde haole had been generous with the grin, and the grin itself was a thing of versatility, radiating all kinds of signals, some pleasant but most slimy. She saw in the policemana€™s eyes a new reverence, then as if to gain fresh insight into its secrets, Officer C. He wondered again what questions to ask three men dressed in aloha shirts on a black beach next to a black ocean with the eye of God breathing hot fire onto the surreal landscape. Another moment flew by, a tense one, like after a gun shot.A  Lani gripped the phone tighter and, with as much assurance as she could muster, replied, a€?I had a flat tire .
Tina resumed the interrogation, poking into the sordid shadows of Lania€™s social life.A  a€?This isna€™t that guy say work at Mauna Kea, in the observatory?A  Dat one hustling you last Friday night, is it? Lani waited for the lewd suggestion that she was sure would follow, something to do with feet, and massaging, or kissing or . Unable to locate a water fountain, or a container in which to carry the water in, Lani bought Don Ho a diet soda from the machine out in the hallway.A  She carried it outside. He wanted to tell them to fuck off, he wanted to ask them their biggest secret, but as if some repenting convict en route to his execution had commandeered Billya€™s vocal chords, he blurted out urgently, almost, it seemed, joyous to divulge the information: a€?One time when I was fourteen I played hooky from church, and when my family was gone . All three Billya€™s stopped laughing for a moment and looked up at him.A  Then they resumed their hysteric contortions. Instead, Lani saw a trim, middle-aged Asian of indiscriminate gender, dressed in an impeccable linen suit, sitting on the fender of a black Corvette, staring off into the distant night, with its leg swinging in a lazy rhythm, shoeless. At first, of course, the car caught her attention, then the person, then lastly, the persona€™s lack of footwear. It slid from the sculptured fender, straightened the crease in its pants and stepped toward Lani.
He thought of his previous confession, how unacceptable it had seemed to them.A  a€?Ia€™m not as kind as I could be!a€? he shouted, frantically, filled with fear, hoping that was the kind of confession they were requesting.A  Where had that come from? William, the somber, reflective-looking one said, a€?We know at this point that whata€™s being discussed is your life up to the present, or at least, if you didna€™t know, you do now . The one in the middle, Alan, compared to William, seemed more intense, and rancorous perhaps, although rancorous might be a little stronga€”just the way Alana€™s jaw jutted almost imperceptibly when he concluded his sentence and his point.A  William, on the other hand, looked sadder, more deliberate and distanta€”an author of serious books, perhaps.
A It all had a pleasing, deductive ring to it.A  a€?Thata€™s what Ia€™m here for?a€? he asked, his enthusiasm rising. The volume increased into white noise until Billy grasped his ears in pain, fell onto the sand, and, unable to help himself, wallowed and rubbed himself across the ground like a dog after a bath. Alan raised his head almost imperceptibly and Billy sensed he had again said something wrong and that Alan was preparing to inflict another blare of music . Its voice, just the tone startled Lani, the fact that it was neither male or female, but both, added as much significance as if it were broadcast through a huge loudspeaker, large enough to vibrate her bones, & directed by none other than the oh-so-subtle Mr.
Lani smiled inwardly.A  She decided right then and there that she would be the one doing the seducing, if that was what was occurring. In honor of “Noirvember,” we’re revisiting three of the most popular representatives of the film noir canon, and the fictional works they are based on.
Dashiell Hammett’s Continental Op was the prototype for generations of tough-guy detectives. The Thin Man may have found his latest screenwriter: Jerry Stahl has signed on to write the script for a planned remake starring Johnny Depp. Dashiell Hammett’s best-known detective was his most appealing and enduring creation—even before Humphrey Bogart took him on. Rushing water surprised a Central Texas family Tuesday morning as it bubbled up from their backyard.
It was so incredible that I tried to write about it, because it was the perfect topic for an essay.
My room was a dorm room about seven-feet square, and I shared a bath with several men and women in similar rooms. I welcomed their company and the aloneness that I felt seemed to lift with the sound and movements of our Moon Dance. Life was hidden in the shadows and difficult to see, but it had completely surrounded me as I danced. It is a dark starless night, the rain slashes against the window, the winds howl with 50 miles an hour gusts.
It is morning, a light rain continues, the winds are not as strong and yet the bamboo grove sways and sweeps the ground. The week continued to have some misadventures and some spectacular adventures and the courageous and joyous parts of me lived them fully.
So as this year ends, the compassionate patience I feel for myself fills my heart and it is soft with love; a love that has always been close at hand and seemingly just out of my reach. The voters are old friends, new friends, community workers, casual acquaintances, and families coming together to express their preferences through voting. As the voting lines formed for this election, we stood together only as neighborsa€”rich and not so rich, young and not so young, extraverted and not so extraverted, highly educated and not so highly educated, multi-raced, blue voters and red votersa€”without malice or ill intent.
She was adorable in her winter hat pulled down over her ears; it brought attention to her laughing eyes. He looked concerned and said to me, My father-in-law is out in my truck; he is 85 and hea€™s had a medical procedure today and wea€™ve been with the doctors.
It was an unforgettable moment; we hugged and thanked each other for making it possible for Zach to vote. Since saying a€?yesa€? is the first rule of improv, the message didna€™t seem new at first. The need for control is strong so supporting someone elsea€™s ideas or interests each moment seems difficult at times. This one has certainly changed the content of my last two days, and the intention to expand the experiment is exciting and feels like a spiritual loving act. As I sat on my deck looking out over the city, the leaves of fall were turning the world into bright hues of red, orange, and brown. I felt reluctant, but I had had some physical limitations during the last year that had been difficult to accept and meditation had really supported my healing. Mostly it happens when a small activity of the day seems more difficult than I judge it should be. Without being sure of outcomes or things unseen, this is my opportunity to act without attachment and with the joy of what I will learn from the experiences my actions create. It was a time of change from working long hours to going inward to discover what was left to uncover within me. The withdrawal I needed and the healing it has brought to me has completed this phase of my life. The need for expansion comes from an internal voice that says explore, experiment, and do not become complacent.
When the time and move is right, something within my spirit will say, a€?Get crackin.a€? The patience to wait for that insight has come as a part of the growth Ia€™ve found in this small blue house on top of a hill surrounded by mountains. He agreed to run away for a day to escape the heat and discomfort brought on by a loss of electrical power in our homes even though his electricity had returned. This evening he invites me to light a candle, to close my eyes, to reopen my eyes, and to see each thing before me. I stood in wonder at this amazing child so full of life and uninhibited yearning to have a good time and accomplish what he set out to do. He wanted to have the biggest paper route and he wanted to make the most sales at his part-time job. Academics didna€™t seem to be his focus, but he seemed to relish his relationships and became the life of the party and the favorite student to his teachers. Now his spirit of aliveness lives in me and the memory of his voice reminds me that Life in this physical realm is short and that what we create here lives forever within those we have truly touched. Today in the quietness that is The Wintergreen Nature Foundation on some Wednesday mornings, my clarity about what I was to learn came. His voice stills my mind, brings me to the present, and opens my heart to listen not to the words but to the message his words point too.
What Ia€™ve noticed is that they look more closely, eat more slowly, move more deliberately, and listen intently to others.
A young blind childa€™s face radiates the sun in his eyes as he turns his face up to feel the warmth.
So today, Ia€™m altering my thoughts about limitations and seeing opportunities everywhere.
I am sometimes impatient, but Ia€™m learning to accommodate his need for being on my right side to hear more clearly. Then he issued an invitation to sit in silence with eyes closed and contemplate these questions.


We are here together at this time, in this place, and in this specific body to understand that the essence of all Life exists in each of us humans and in all living matter. If we examined each Life, it would not be what happens to us that would be different for pain and joy comes to everyone; it would be how we respond to what happens to us that has created our unique experience of our individual Life.
Another woman loses a child and creates a charity in its name and supports the lives of many children.
To live well is to choose to grow into what we are most capable of being and be grateful for the uniqueness of the Life.
I am a personality in a physical body with the power of logic and thought as is everyone else. Two years ago it was refurbished with new tires, new horns on the handlebars, and had been given a good checkup so it could be used for riding with my new bike group.
Without hesitation, I offered the unused bike in the garage, and I felt my heart open to the possibility that the bike would finally be used. Perhaps you awaken from a long nighta€™s sleep and have the thought that you are tired; but are you really tired or just not quite alert as yet?
They were planted by the property owner in the early 1900s and seem to be a symbol of welcome outside the front door of an ancient majestic medieval stone castle. To quote Wikipedia: a€¦the Sun is at one of two opposite points on the celestial sphere where the celestial equator and ecliptic intersect. Who could argue that day and night have distinct powers to aid in the Life upon planet Earth? In my youth the expression, a€?all men are created equal,a€? stirred many thoughts of disbelief in my mind: Does that include women, does that mean skill level, does that mean talent, does that mean appearance, does that meana€¦on and on? It is a deeper understanding that the Universal energy dynamic of which we are a part is without judgment. If there is a value judgment placed by me on what I see, it is sure to mean that I do not see myself as equala€”it could be a feeling of doing better or of a feeling of doing less, of being stronger or of being weaker, in control or not in control. To honor what each contributes with no value judgment added supports my intention to appreciate all that a€?isa€? because it a€?is.a€? If Ia€™m walking on eggshells, stomping heavily through a room, or withdrawing my love in a reaction to another to gain acceptance or power, it will be my challenge to ask why I do not feel equal in this moment without demanding an immediate answer. It is summer and the calls to rescue injured or troubled animals and people come in quite often. The caller stated that hawks were circling and it wouldna€™t be long before the rabbit could not be saved.
What happens are visions of past experiences, people, and places that are pictures in the minda€™s album.
They had added gardens, doors, patios, waterfalls, fireplace, and fisha€”just to mention a few of their creations. It is challenging to accurately describe a sacred moment and the power it contains, so Ia€™ll start slowly from the beginning. I can feel within me the need to know who is the night raider and how can I change what is happening in order to have my world be as I choose it to be. For some reason, I have doubt about whether that person is capable of caring about me just as I am in this moment. The birds are chirping in the trees, the squirrels are trying to get into the bird feeders, the breeze is moving the leaves, the raindrops are collecting on the deck, and the mountains stand observing it all.
There is no thinking only comfort and presence; it is as if I am one with my feelings and it feels like what I believe peace to be.
Ia€™ve felt that my body is trying to tell me something so each morning Ia€™ve asked the question: a€?What do I need to know that I do not want to know?a€? Without requiring an answer, Ia€™ve continued to just be open to learning. As I began, I felt I was reading it for the friend to support him in his relationship with someone he loves; but as I began to read, I knew the booka€™s message would bring me the understanding of what I needed to know that I was resisting unconsciously. My intention is to have compassion for the part of me that feels I need all the answers to lifea€™s questions now. I dona€™t know what it is I am not aware of in this moment, but I am fully aware that I am enjoying the quietness of it. The elevator door opened and a middle-aged woman entered pushing a teenage boy in a wheelchair. He wasna€™t concerned that it was crowded or that too many obstacles were in the way of what he wanted.
I did have a deer bound in front of me on Route 80 in Pennsylvania but my horn-honking turned him.
But these cornfields stretch outwards hundreds and hundreds of miles from here (Grand Island, Neb.). I think it's to find some little bit of company and comfort out among all the larger vehicles. Without that cover overhead, you're on open country roads getting soaked and -- worse -- sitting on a big piece of metal that attracts electrical charges. Forecast for the next four days where I'm going in Montana-Idaho is for the same temp, with chances of afternoon thunderstorms.
The look of the Bighorn National Forest is austere, powerful, vast, a lot of rock faces with detritus heaps below. I was concerned the fuel injector wouldn't automatically adjust to these changes in altitude (4,500 feet on the high desert to 9,000 in the Bighorns), but it's purring wherever I take it. Rushmore the other day but didn't make the effort to go see it, which sounds vaguely anti-American even to me. It was hard traveling, especially to make a two-week 4,000-mile round trip like the Old Man did, as the lone driver. But he did want us to see places maybe most kids didn't and I think he wanted to make us adventurous.
The formula for making them would be: Take a sea of sand about 200 miles across, stir it up a bit so you get rounded, swelling waves, top it with tall grass, sprinkle lightly with black Angus cattle and every mile or so plunk down a windmill to draw water for the cattle. As I ate, dust clouds from the adjacent road being repaved swirled around the parking lot, a crushed root beer cup was whirling in irregular circles near the table, and in the distance, jagged lightning bolts among the dark clouds atop the Bighorns.
I explained that my leather jacket wasn't for warmth, but for padding, in case I fell off the bike. The last thing I am is a flag waver, but when the pennants of the rodeo's sponsors -- Coca-Cola, Dairy Queen, Pinnacle Bank, the U.S.
Picking their way along Indian trails and bushwhacking through the towering evergreens, Lewis and Clark had no idea how deep this forest would be, only that the Pacific lay somewhere ahead. I stopped along the way to read every historical marker, each keying the location to a specific entry in the two expedition leaders' daily journal.
With this kind of light ahead, I think I'll need shades every morning till about 10:00 all the way home. Then the Imperial Valley, which is inhuman in its sterile, mass-production agriculture way. The landscape is all creosote bushes about 20 feet apart and occasional gray rock ridges sticking out of the dust like the dorsals of buried lizards.
Who's more manly, Hulk Hogan or Mahatma Gandhi, who probably couldn't bench-press two Wheaties boxes on a stick but helped topple the British Empire?
I assume folks come here to warm their old bones -- it gets to 115 degrees in summer -- and stretch their savings.
The old copper mining towns of Miami and Globe have great potential for photos but the light was wrong and I couldn't wait for it to get right. Billowing several thousand feet in the air, it a€?looks like the product of the largest explosion that ever was, but it a€?doesn't float away or change in any way. The driver was from Utah -- and a look-alike for actor Charles Laughton -- who had doubled back to see if I needed help.
If my bike had been disabled, he'd have committed himself to driving me 75 miles to arrange for repair, and he knew that. I veered off the road next to a small town's grain elevator, which I thought might give me some cover. Its occupants turned out be a skinny kid in charge, who stood about six-foot-six, somebody working the kitchen, me, and about a thousand flies.
After about half an hour the kid said, "If you're goin' to Lubbock, you should be all right now.
I could still see a thin strip of blue sky and sunshine before me along the horizon, but raindrops began pelting my windshield. Hailstones began to mix in with the rain, pellets about the size of peas ricocheting off my plastic windshield and helmet. I was hanging off the right side of the seat and still had to tilt the bike a couple degrees in that direction to counter-act the northbound wind.
As I ate, dust clouds from the adjacent road being repaved swirled around the parking lot, a crushed root beer cup was whirling in irregular circles near the table, and in the distance,A  jagged lightning bolts among the dark clouds atop the Bighorns.
Someone has popped him on the cheekbones as perfectly as as you can be punched -- pinpoint shots.
Billowing several thousand feet in the air, it looks like the product of the largest explosion that ever was, but it doesn't float away or change in any way.
You realize that the wonder hasna€™t faded, cracked or turned to dust, even when you set it down and stare at your empty palm like a Ghost Dancer whoa€™s returned from heaven and awakened. From a shelf I lifted an old baking soda tin and inside was Jodiea€™s shiny black ball of obsidian shea€™d kept under her pillow.
When wea€™d brought in the groceries from town shea€™d found the pile of lyrics on the table and later taken up my guitar while I was out irrigating the pasture.
I figured Jodie had her ghosts, Slim Frye the most recent, and suddenly I felt both innocent and lucky, grateful for my unsuccessful but slender love life. I held the screen door and followed her in to the house that smelled sweet, of night air crossing grass.
We said good night, Jodie thanking me for putting her up until Johnny Blacka€™s band came to Waverly in two weeks, me thanking her for dinner and liking my music.
Ia€™d dreamed about the Branding Iron in Waverly, where once a week I played at Amateur Night. The audience stood and swayed, clapping time, and Jodie and I stood side-by-side, each playing a guitar like the one Jodiea€™d lost. It felt exciting, strange and good, having a woman in the house singing your song to herself as the day began.
It had a soft curve, like it had just cooled and hardened after bubbling up from the center of the Earth.
We had quite a ride.a€? Wea€™d ridden five or six miles, climbed right up the slope of the bowl to the top. I turned on my back, looking up at the blue sky beyond the branches, listening to the needles move in the soft breeze. She stood up and I wrapped the containers and empty plates in the tablecloth and pushed it into the saddlebag.
We went down through broken ground to a bluff, then through the white grass to the east pasture and across it toward the line of trees. I gripped the stone edge of the dark square-ish door, then turned, looking up toward the froth rising toward the light.
I let go, leaning into the current, and with a kick and one arm-stroke let the water take me straight to the surface.
I gripped the rocka€™s edge and looked back to see Jodie pulling hard against the current, moving down through the column of light, her long hair yellow now and flowing out behind her. With a kick she rose up, her shapely slim hips and legs and feet slipping from the darkness that turned green and then lighter green and finally yellow. Jodie swam up close and I put my hands on her waist, turning her back to me, then with my feet pushed off from the rock, lifting her out and up into the rush of water and letting her go. I went to Sally and took out the tablecloth from the saddlebag, setting the leftover food and plates at the foot of the tree.
We held hands, moved out into the pushing water, and together drifted without kicking to the surface. The sun hung above the western ridge, shining at a lowering angle across the valley, and a quicker breeze stirred the flashing two-colored willows.
Bob and Sallya€™s hooves hit sharply against the road and the man and woman who would sing a€?Travis Jacksona€? to millions and the foolish President and like a stone cut in half to show its pretty crystals would never be the same started toward the yellow house by the cottonwood. The dog was one of thoseA  horrid little pug-nosed things that slobbered profusely and snorted like swine. A a€?Here we are,a€? Billy said, cheerfully, automatically, moronically.A  He had no more awareness of a€?where he wasa€? than say, a shrimp has, lying peeled and pink in a salad on a picnic table on a Sunday afternoon in . He lifted each foot, one at a time, repulsed by the fact that his bare feet were actually embracing . A His smile seemed a fraction more gaudy than the other two, as if he were permanently bent on some sort of drug. Don Ho hovered over the can, licking its top, tipped it over and began slurping the pop as it poured out.A  After another moment he looked up at her again, belched, and walked away, his pugged nose close to the ground, sniffing loudly. Give some credit to Carroll John Daly, but he was just delivering the dime-novel, blood-and-thunder yarn with more grit.
In ‘‘The Tenth Clew,” one of the most popular stories in the series, the Op unravels a murder with too many clues.
The original film, which starred starred William Powell and Myrna Loy as whiskey-drinking, zinger-flinging crime-solvers Nick and Nora Charles, was based on Dashiell Hammett’s final novel. A private eye turned mystery writer, Gores was a lifelong fan of crime fiction and a particular admirer of Dashiell Hammett’s work. Under each tree and beneath each bush, there seemed to be an aurora of light that painted a distorted picture of each bush upon the ground below. I turned to head back to the dorm, a little wet, a little cold, and covered with the glow of Moon Dancing with my Shadows. 50 mile an hour gusts of wind in Virginia would encourage me to hunker down for protection. The disappointment is strong and yet I can take a small step toward the bathroom and get dressed. As I compared the pictures of me as a child and me as a grown woman, I finally could see my own beauty and it made me laugh with joy.
As the New Year begins, my heart is open and I look forward to the experiences I will create. As a poll worker, the day was long, warm inside, cold outside, enjoyable, inspiring, and at times emotional. He is immobile at the moment and concerned because he has never missed an election since he began to vote. Sometimes it is before an experience and during the experience the words start ringing in my ears.
As we began to practice creating scenes, it was immediately clear that it was easier for me to say a€?yes, buta€? and it was equally clear that doing so blocked the scene from expanding.
Acceptance of a€?what isa€? can be challenging and this simple idea of energetically saying, a€?yes, anda€? has given me clarity about my own negative or judgmental views as Ia€™ve gone through my day.
The experiment itself has supported me in living more fully in the present, which is, of course, the only place we can live fully. My heart seemed to stop breathing, my throat was tightly constricted, and the top of my head felt as if it would fly into the trees so great was the pressure. His choices were courageous; his experiences were dramatic examples of how to live and not to live for those who watched his progress. It could be loading bikes on a rack, spilling milk in my new car, lateness of a friend, hot when I want it to be cool, or appreciation not shown. The deep longing for companionship thwarted by my fear of losing independence is simple but complex within my thoughts about what to allow and what not to allow into my world. Ia€™ve been living at least for the past few day in a story of my own making about what others want me to do, how they want me to live, or what they need from me. Recently a friend was talking about his experiences and how excited he was about his hopes and dreams for the future; I recognized them as both different and similar to my own.
It has been amazing and comfortable and productive in a different way than accomplishing projects. Last night as I looked around during a concert on the mountain, I saw the same people I see almost daily. It isna€™t dissatisfaction with what is; its more a wonderment of what other experiences and growth are possible for me. There is a joyful feeling of contentment as the warm air circles close in and sweat runs down my back. Joy has not always come to me with ease, as my human need to protect myself and those I love is well practiced and vigilant at times. He talks about a concept in a book we are sharing and wonders if hea€™s got it right; if he has understood it.
He encourages me to ask myself how the things Ia€™m seeing are different and how they are the same and listen to my heart speak.
It is orange and ita€™s light is a lacy hue; two triangles extending from ita€™s center one reaches toward me and the other away from me.
What an awesome experience to see the love of a husband and a father reflected in the toothless grin of a new life.
Memories of his birth and death have supported me in finding this place where I intend to live with compassion for others and myself and with a love of Life every day and every minute.
I cannot change it, but I can surrender to a€?what isa€? in each moment in order to respond from the healthiest part of me rather than to fearfully react. This habit has triggered in me a new perspective about what I see as limitation and opportunity. Today that message is to consider every limitation as an opportunity and to be opened to what is most important to learn in each moment. The woman in a wheel chair demonstrates patience as she waits to enter through a revolving door.
I now move slowly enough in the morning to watch a cardinal land on the bird-feeder, my glasses magnify the beauty of the gifts that fill my home, my aches encourage me to stretch and care for my body and to find the wisdom to rest when rest is needed. My nose will tell me of ita€™s fragrance, my touch will tell me of its softness, but only through my mothera€™s tone and voice will I know what that fragrance and softness belongs too. As I carefully describe what Ia€™m seeing, my gift to this unseeing child supports me being present enough to fully see it myself; and this level of awareness is the childa€™s gift to me. As the child, as the mother, or as the cherry blossom, my purpose is simply to live my best life and to grow.
The manifestation of that essential Life we have brought into being takes many physical forms; all different, all unique. All of these things have resulted in my becoming the a€?soul in a bodya€? that I see in my mirror this morning. If in this Life, we do not become conscious of the power of the collective Life of the Universe, we will be given another chance. To make that possible, I pulled it out, pumped up the tires, admired ita€™s beauty, and my heart felt lighter.
As we remounted and rode on, the bike was a€?just another bikea€? racing to the song of the fall breeze.
Perhaps you look in the mirror and think that you are getting older and no longer beautiful; yes you are getting older, but aging has ita€™s own beauty. The ability to bring awareness to the harsh, dramatic, judgmental, and repetitive sounds within our minds contains the freedom we think is not open to us. These points of intersection are called equinoctial points: classically, the vernal point and the autumnal point. So to carry the a€?Pointa€? into an individual Life, who could argue that pleasant (light) experiences are better or worse than difficult (dark) experiences since every experience has the potential for learning by the being that experiences it. Like the similar times of day and night in this season, we are connected by individual and collective purposes with an equal opportunity to live our best lives. As I was hearing the story, it occurred to me that we saved the rabbit or deprived the hawk of its meal. It is a beautiful spot and it was early evening as the light played its songs upon the angles of the rocks and crevices as we watched. Today if someone walks along the same path we took, there will be no hint of what occurred between the snake and the frog.
Going back there did not necessarily appeal to me either since my relationship to my former husband and her Dad had become faded memories of love and pain. As often happens with this friend, the discussion turned to nature and bird songs in particular.
It was quickly replaced with a look of acceptance of what was now occurring as she described her coming treatment. Ia€™m grateful for the awareness of this part of me that continues to need challenging if I am to be at peace with what is in this moment.
How do I challenge the part of me that judges his actions and wants him to be different so that I can be happy? That feels nurturing and I can feel my heart open as I consider the possibility that life is an illusion created by my thoughts, and I can choose which thoughts I will give my energy too. For others, I just say something like, a€?planning a quiet day.a€? That answer feels authentic and supportive of the way I want to live my life. For sure, I am an active person with a wide variety of interests, but sometimes I enjoy a€?Beinga€? in my home.
Today I have set an intention to answer the question, what are you doing today, with authenticity no matter who is asking.
As the morning unfolds, the feeling of hunger comes and without questioning it, I stretch, arise, and move to my robe. Without thinking, there is a deep knowing that I am not a separate entity seeing, hearing, tasting, touching, and smelling this moment, but an integral part of it and without my energy and presence it would be different.
She said that I was flexible in my hips and so compensated there for the lack of flexibility in the last vertebra of my back.
I begin to remember the times in my life when I have felt emotional pain and have chosen to override it with thinking.
Also this week, Ia€™ve felt the need to remain quiet while reflecting with more stillness than is my normal pattern.
This morning I read Tollea€™s words I needed to hear: If you are not in the state of either acceptance, enjoyment, or enthusiasm, look closely and you will find that you are creating suffering for yourself and others. I will ask for guidance to accept what is happening in the moment without adding drama and fearful thoughts or intelligent explanations.
I felt impatient with the loss of time and the people that swirled around in the garage seemingly in my way. He seemed challenged both mentally and physically, and my reaction was to look away so that his mom would not feel I was staring at the young boy. He wasna€™t complaining internally, he wasna€™t judging others; he was without fear and was gazing in awe at the light. Driving through the puddles on the highway was a little unnerving but there were no overpasses for shelter, so I had to keep going.
Louis for Night 3, but otherwise it's been just the banter with waitresses and gas station folks. I got out the sturdy Pope Paul II church key someone gave me (OK, I bought it) and used it as a kind of giant screwdriver to tighten the fluid cover. I drove hundreds of miles out of my way to get there because it was billed across the state as a hi-grade rodeo.
They bolted and the kids chased them every which way, sprawling in the dirt and whatever else was on the ground. When I walked away from the bike to take photos I found a€?myself straining to get enough oxygen.
Winter was approaching, and the party's hunters were having no success in finding game on the steep slopes of these unending woods. Lassen, Calif., to visit with my buddy of five decades Ted and his wife Carolyn, then wrap it up with two broiling days down Veggie Valley (California's Route 5) to San Diego.
Don't know if you have to bring your own water: I sure didn't pass over a flowing stream or see a lake for a couple hundred miles.
Bil suffers from Blatt's Sydrome, wherein the body ages normally but the mind never makes it past 18 -- well, maybe 15 in Bil's case. The place bored me quickly: Only the cowboy hats distinguish this casino from the the East Coast brand.
The pluses with a bike are limited to the physicality of the travel -- if you like that -- and a natural buzz from rolling along out in the open.
When I walked away from the bike to take photos I found myself straining to get enough oxygen. I felt that she noticed, sensed the electric tension in my open, down-turned hands that would spark if they touched her.
I lifted the saddlebag and walked over under the tree, kicking a few cones from a cool bed of needles. She threw me a quick look and turned forward as we raced across the grass as far as the dirt road, where Bob pulled even and we brought up the horses. Wallace, (Lani had read the name tag pinned below his badge) set the wallet on the counter and began searching through it more thoroughly. My feet picked up speed, my fear lessened, and I began to explore the light that broke the shadows. The lake lay in stillness and hovering above it was a wall of mist, kind of stringy, but not transparent; and above all that, hung the moon spreading its final visible glow before dawn arrived with the sunrise. Outside the window, the lily pond beyond the deck is beautiful, the deck is wet and shiny, and the door slightly open lets in a pure and sweet freshness. I can take a small step toward my car and drive the dirt road to the main road; and if the wind is too strong, I can return to this rugged North shore bamboo farm and make the best of it. As I gazed at the photo of the beautiful child holding the doll, I remembered that feeling of love; my heart was soft and full.
The beauty had nothing to do with the physical features displayed in the photos; it was the radiance that traveled from my heart through my eyes and took in the world around them. Let me tell you why inspiring and emotional experiences were my companions on this day in small-town America. We kissed each other, hugged each other, waved to each other, talked with each other, supported each other, and laughed and yes cried with each other. I focused on these positives as we supported him in whatever healing was possible, and eventually, supported him as his alcohol-damaged body died. As she led us in meditation, I felt the deep pain of powerlessness again, and again I invited it to get as big as it could.
When Ia€™m in that centered place what happens outside me is like a movie and I can watch my personality, the actor, think and plan and wish without attachment. It is all a a€?Storya€? from the part of me that loves stories and the justification they give for me to be less than open and less than loving.
As we parted, I heard myself say to him, looks like youa€™re on it and Ia€™m just standing beside it. It has been exciting, it has been challenging, it has been peaceful, it has been stimulating; and mostly, it has been healing.
Ia€™ve come to look forward to their presence and the feeling of security and safety they trigger within me. Change for many is difficult, but for me the newness of change is invigorating and stimulating.
Expansion now calls and the excitement of just what that will entail lifts my energy and makes me want to sing.
In my view as I watch the water run over the rocks, he stands with his back to me looking into the creek. His open heart is almost always constant even when he is confused or slightly annoyed with his surrounding world.
As we danced I asked him, a€?What was the best thing about today?a€? And, without waiting for his answer, I laughed and said, a€?Everything.a€? He laughed out loud with complete delight and agreed. I listen to his expressed doubt and somewhat confused words, and have a knowing that he understands it perfectly. We are many flames from the same candle, and yet, just one light; apart we are a flicker but together we make a luminous Life. The memory fills my heart and I see a vision of him in a jaunty Easter hat and sports jacket toddling up the small hill in front of my house; two steps forward and one step back and finally falling and rolling to the bottom only to rise again and begin again with laughter and determination. In those magical days, he marveled at the beauties of the life of which he found himself a part be they giant mountains, rock music, or the smallest of butterflies.
In time he began to drink alcohol to lessen the pain of the world not always being as he wanted. It is my full responsibility to live with presence and courage and to grow into the person I am called to be. This act of responsible choice and the intent behind it becomes the vehicle of my creation and the consequence it brings. It has been a life-long habit to observe closely human behavior and sometimes to judge or to give value to what I see; that is changing. They are aware that the opportunity to connect must be given their full attention and they have learned how to do that. The man whose taste and smell is not so acute takes two bites before he makes his choice of what to eat. The veins and wrinkles on the back of my hand remind me that Ia€™m dehydrated and need to drink more water today. I hear from her there are five petals close together in almost a circle; and where the petals attach in the middle of the cherry blossom, it is a deeper shade of pink that grows almost to white at the petalsa€™ edges. This delicate flower filled with color and shadow created by the warm and nurturing sun comes alive in my being and is energetically past to this curious and loving child. My heart called me to the computer to put down my feelings, and I became distracted by email for a moment.
Each of us makes choices that create our life day-to-day, hour-to-hour, moment-to-moment, and those choices add up to a Life unlike any other. The experiences were the same; the creation process of what remained in each of them became very different.
If I stood in a long line of people, those who know me would recognize me even though we all have two eyes, two arms, two legs, one nose, and one mouth.
For this Life, in this place, I have a knowing that the Life I have created has supported the Lives of others and me.
The answer for me is in what I choose to give my attention and time too; with a conscious intention to live my life fully not someone elsea€™s, just mine.
He had bought the bike as transportation when he lost his drivera€™s license because of a drunk driving charge.
Later we loaded the bike into his SUV, and I felt as feathery light as the evening air rushing across my skin. No memories flooded me for I was in the moment, and this moment was another level of healing I had not expected.
You see a friend walking and think she really wants to walk alone; but in reality when you join her on the walk she is welcoming and the walk enriches you both. In each moment, we can step back from a belief and ask one simple question: Does this thought or belief serve to expand my Life or limit my life?
Since being human with the power of our minds to create stories around our experiences, it is often easier to live in an imaginary story of what happened and how we should react than to see that how we respond to an experience in this moment creates the suffering or not.
Growing and aging brought new a€?judgmentsa€? about equality and how to discover what equality really meansa€”not to others, but to me.
It is not always easy to carry that deep sense of equality into our relationships for we are indeed spiritual beings in physical human forms with old patterns of reactions and judgments.
The rejoicing of anothera€™s strength or my own cannot diminish or inflate my feelings about either if I am without judgment of that persona€™s or my own value as a result.
It was peaceful and awe inspiring to see the effects the water has played and still plays upon the landscape as it all shifts and changes imperceptibly. But there we were in front of a house that I had come to as a bride, altered it with the support of my dad and husband to accommodate our familya€”a house in which I had brought my children, and where I laughed and cried and planned the perfect future. I thought of a day when the world was perfect because we were exhausted together and happy. The small trees that we had planted cast some shade now, and the flowers his wife had planted added color all around them. My friend had started them from her plants, and her husband had traveled along with her to deliver them to me and to share a few moments of time. So she and I pulled out my IPad to compare what we were hearing in my yard with the Audubon recorded bird-songs.
I looked at her husband and there I saw a deep pain quickly replaced with an expression of deep love for this woman with which he has shared many years. Only then can I make a responsible choice to support the life I want with the consequences that come from making choices within the presence of acceptance. This is not a new conflict; the difference is that I am aware of the thoughts and feelings within this dynamic that create circumstances I do not wish to occur. I alone am responsible for the experiences I create and it is those experiences that enrich my life if I choose. Of course, routine chores like making a bed, fixing food, doing dishes, caring for my home are always needed, but this question seems to be about something more. Ia€™m reading, Ia€™m writing, Ia€™m thinking, Ia€™m dreaming, Ia€™m questioning, Ia€™m answering, but more than anything else Ia€™m simply being here now doing this and it nurtures my life. Sometimes I will be playing golf or tennis, rushing around running a project, working to beautify my yard; but sometimes Ia€™ll simply be choosing to a€?Bea€? and for me that will be enough. The rain is, the fruit is, the wood is, the carpet is, the chair is, the joy garden is, Jon Kabat-Zinn is, the peace is, and I am.
She said that when some part of the body is not used, the brain notices and will see the lack of movement as a€?normal.a€? She said the unused area becomes more and more unbalanced and eventually creates pain in the body. Ia€™ve told myself that life is difficult sometimes and have moved on without giving the pain its due course and attention. As I sit with that question and just relax into the moment, I feel certain that if I remain open the question will be answered; not by the intellect, but by something deeper inside me that guides my life if I choose to listen. The light from the sun had entered his eyes and body completely and radiated outward toward anyone who chose to look. After half minute of mayhem, the boy who had grabbed the first ribbon brought his proof to the announcer in the center of the arena. About 17 years old, he's attempting to a€?grow a beard but it's a€?sketchy and mostly fuzz. And the clouds, which are soft and thinnish at eye level, become brilliant white, three-dimensional puffs directly above.
I thought maybe they had given me the plexiglass model from the a€?food showcase in the lobby and slathered barbecue sauce on it. I thought maybe they had given me the plexiglass model from the food showcase in the lobby and slathered barbecue sauce on it. Shea€™d taken a hard fall the day before and had to gather her clothes and fancy red shoes from the sage and tumbleweeds. But from what I had written, the reader would most certainly understand the essence of my experience.
This time when movement caught my senses, I saw on the side of the Main Hall at Omega two shadows.
As I glanced up, I noticed that the stars were vanishing from the sky and the moon had moved toward the lake so I let my feet dance after it. If I could remember to challenge my fearful thoughts, Moon Dancing would always be possible.
Doubts about whether I should be here alone nag me and breathing deeply doesna€™t seem to help. Many times Ia€™ve experienced that feeling over the years: when I married my new husband, when each of my children were borne, when a bond of female friendship was revealed to me, when I gave unconditional love to an amazing yet flawed man, when I held my grandsons the first time, when I witnessed my son-in-lawa€™s tears at a grave site, and so many moments in nature. Many times the circumstances of life and my thoughts about them hid my beauty from me, and I could not believe others even when they shared their love and compassion for me. May I remember to look deeply into my own eyes to find love and then freely give it away to others.
She literally danced to the voting booth and then out; waving and glowing as she left the precinct. The voice in my head was still, the polling precinct was quiet, and the room filled with the light of choice I had been witnessing all day. Of course, there are times when I have to say no to someone, and what Ia€™ve found is that even that is easier when I say yes to what is transpiring in the moment and then expand the conversation or activity to make my point or acknowledge someone elsea€™s need. But inside me deeper than even I imagined was a sense of sadness and powerlessness to change the drinking habits of my 37-year-old son. When I could bare it no longer, it vanished and was replaced with a deep stillness of peace.
My overall intention for my life is to love well, and of late, that seems more difficult than it has for the recent past years. It protects me and not in a way that is creative; it prevents me from living each moment as it is with an intention to hear the quiet voice that wisely guides my Life.
Then from deep inside me came that still small voice, that is not the Phyllis I know; I recognized the voice as me and not me. It is a song of healing and caring for this person I am and the growing Being that awaits me with my next choice and adventure. It does not; so I reach my hand toward it and it appears as if the light is resting upon my hand. All these objects, all those Ia€™ve loved, and all those who have loved me are part of this one light.


I may need to remain silent.A I may need to speak aloud about something that is bothering me about whata€™s happening. It is with gratitude that I accept all the parts of mea€”the difficult and the pleasanta€”and quietly surrender to the learning that my experience offers in this moment, and the next, and the next. Now more often I observe not to give value but to learn and to appreciate the insight that observing brings to me about me. As my hair grows and the gray is more visible, Ia€™m reminded of what a long and remarkably healthy life I have and the freedom that brings. From the middle of the deep pink rise varying lengths of stamens with small orangey-pink, round fluffy dots at each of their tips.
My heart aches with gratitude for this small being whose blindness first filled me with sadness; but now has added a measure of being alive that could not have been possible without what I once considered to be her handicap. There in the emails I read: We begin to find and become ourselves when we notice how we are already found, already truly, entirely, wildly, messily, marvelously who we were born to be.
They may remark that I look like someone else, but if they truly know me, they know that I am like no one else. When it came off the moving van five years ago, it went into the corner of the garage, because I was still not ready to let go of the memory of the healing I thought it would bring to my son. It sat and sat, and I would see it with a flood of emotions triggered by the healing and loss it represented. We stopped again to sit by the river; all I felt was deep gratitude for all the extraordinary experiences of this Life lived fully. Perhaps the thought is that living alone is not as enriching as living as a couple, but the amount of freedom that comes with living alone is amazing. It takes a deep intention to look inside us and see those patterns, take a second look, and remind ourselves they are imaginary stories we have created to feel okay in this particular incarnation and perhaps others.
Since the evolutionary process of physical a€?survival of the fittest,a€? has taught me to judge whether or not I am safe when with another, this approach to Life is challenging and yet interesting and exciting to me.
Only the man, the boy, my friend and I will really know the changes created within us from these experiences. We took smiling pictures with a camera to add to our real photo albums of course, and we spoke of the skill and time that each family had given to this beautiful modest home. As I watched them drive away, I knew this strong, courageous couple was focusing their attention on accepting and living Life fully in each moment, and I was grateful that they were part of mine! Simultaneously, I feel a€?less thana€? because Ia€™m choosing not to do something a€?importanta€? and a€?more thana€? because I feel at some level the other person isna€™t capable of understanding that need. Sliding my feet along the carpet, the harder surface of my wood floor is recognized at the doorway.
She continues my therapy and she comments that my pelvic area begins to move a little, but I cana€™t seem to feel it.
Have I, therefore, sent a message to my intellect to override this pain and continue to function. I will not seek the answer in my mind, but I will relax into the present and observe what comes to me. It has felt really good and freeing, but Ia€™ve also had this voice in my head that says, a€?Whata€™s wrong with you?a€? I watched the thought come and go and remained quiet, peaceful, and still.
I will look at my activities one by one to see if there is a second agenda lurking in the shadow of my fearful ego. As the elevator door opened, I said to his Mom that I believed he was enjoying the sunshine. I ate my Papaburger Special at a giant picnic table in front of the place, joined by by six unruly kids who piled out of a van from Missouri. A redhead, a€?about 30, who Ia€™d seen walking with him earlier, chases after him for a a€?while, a€?calling his name. A redhead, about 30, who Ia€™d seen walking with him earlier, chases after him for a while, calling his name.
I mean, are you going to get out here and help me, or you going to sit there looking stupid?a€?A  Gripped the collar tighter and twisted it. During the remainder of the week there, I edited the essay several times and eventually it morphed into a short surreal poem.
As I gazed out into the darkness, I had the urge to take a walk, but felt frightened that I would be walking in an unfamiliar place in that darkness, and it might not be wise.
As I entered the garden, it was a cascade of silence punctuated with the crunching sounds of my footsteps upon the path. I remembered one of my favorite childhood poems, a€?I Have A Little Shadow That Goes In and Out With Me.a€? I remembered how much I loved giving it to my grandchildren! I hummed a€?Que Sa Ra Sa Ra, what ever will be will be,a€? all the way back to the dorm and into the shower. The curious part of me whispers, a€?go out and take a few photos.a€? So dressed in my robe and slippers with camera in tow, my hands slide back the door, and I venture out.
As I said a€?yes, anda€? to what she had to say, the profound lesson came that what she was saying would be an amazing way to not only do improv, it would change a life from a negative focus to a positive one. Over the years, my daughter and I, had pleaded, threatened, and prayed for him to give up drinking. He was free and it was spring one year and four months after his first healthy choice in a very long time.
The last few years have been filled with the joy of living and remembering his life and what it brought to mine. Do this, dona€™t do that, go here, stay there, love this, mistrust that; the mind chatter is overwhelming in these moments. So when discontent of the kind Ia€™ve been experiencing of late is present within me, it puzzles me as to what Ia€™m to learn this time. One of me is the movie my personality creates with thinking, assessing, resisting, and this me was the Seer who watches in loving amazement at times. There was a time in the past when this need would cause me to question a€?who I am,a€? and a€?why am I like this;a€? now it feels warm with acceptance like the return of an absent and beloved friend. This slow to respond, slow to move, slow to show emotion man has a great capacity for deep joy that I admire. He wanted to hear his music uninterrupted and spit on his sister when she came into his room to chat.
These moments of choice step-by-step and consequence-by-consequence truly become the Life I experience. This year as I focus on creating more humility through patience, the experiences that I a€?m creating through what Ia€™ve viewed up to now as limitations are supporting me in doing just that. Her words say that the stamens are the pollen-bearing male part of this delicate precious flower. She never considered herself handicapped, and her acceptance has brought me bravery and added awareness that life is created by the choice to live with a€?what isa€? with courage.
This quote by Anne Lamott brought me back to my intention to explore Nepoa€™s original questions. Another man loses his job and decides to create a different way of living and becomes a role model for others. We are a soul having a physical experience that has the opportunity to contribute to the healing of all living beings. In the peaceful stillness, I closed my eyes and let the gurgle of the racing river wash through me as the sun shared its warmth. Perhaps your belief is that your children should behave differently, but then you see them blossom into their own lives that are very different from what you imagined. If the answer is limits, look at it and let it go for it does not serve your Life or anyonea€™s.
With closer observation of the direction of the winds and of the angles of the sun, it becomes clear that the one that seems to be leaning-in has twisted, has transformed, and has become deeply rooted thereby protecting the other from the elements. Our patterned reaction may not be the healthiest response in this moment, and if it is not, it may be wise to make a different choice. It was clear to me that as a male, he had automatically assumed that the woman in his relationship had to have been weaker or less assertive for inequality to exist.
Later a call came that a skunk, which appeared to have a broken leg, was outside the restaurant by the golf course. Life is by definition impermanent and the cultivation of acceptance has been my yearlong intention since Winter Solstice of last year. I remembered a summer of disruption as Dad added the addition and my son walked in the foundation ditches and later put nails into the exposed electrical outlets. In that moment of presence, their togetherness seemed all that truly mattered, and I was touched by their love for each other. No one knows in Life what will come next, living in this present moment is where we find our power. Ia€™ve watched the French Open and seen the victory there as a moment in time that is relevant only to the lives involved. She says thata€™s okay because the movement is subtle, but necessary to maintain the health of the back and ultimately the nerve in that area.
I will trust the Universal force to support me in my learning and relax into the pain, feel it deeply in the moment; I will no longer resist the discomfort, but welcome it in with whatever message it brings. Ia€™ve read, baked cookies, watched the birds out my window, slept late, meditated, done yoga, watched old movies, and just stayed in my home with just me. If I find one, I will look to see what I can learn from that situation in the present moment.
What a waste of my day!a€? These thoughts were still in my head as I entered the glass elevator with a few others on the top deck of the parking garage.
Summit reminded me a€?of the fjord area around Bergen, Norway -- no trees, just rock and some hardy a€?vegetation.
He had a€?fond memories of the place, which police shuttered in 1982 after 100 years of operation.a€?a€?Went out for a beer in Uptown, but the bars were too raucous.
She gives up after 100 feet, turns and runs back to throw her a€?arms around the neck of the guy who did the thrashing, a very beefy fellow about a€?25 in a muscle T-shirt. Summit reminded me of the fjord area around Bergen, Norway -- no trees, just rock and some hardy vegetation.
He had fond memories of the place, which police shuttered in 1982 after 100 years of operation.Went out for a beer in Uptown, but the bars were too raucous. She gives up after 100 feet, turns and runs back to throw her arms around the neck of the guy who did the thrashing, a very beefy fellow about 25 in a muscle T-shirt. It seemed bettera€”it captured the light of my mooda€”but somehow did not convey the importance of that few hours of Moon Dancing with my Shadows.
Now and then something would move in the silence and take my attention away from the shapes and forms of the plants that lined the walkway. Now absorbed in the beauty of the ocean, focused on the view in the camera, and not feeling my feet, my body tumbles down on the lower deck, my camera flies off into the grass about one foot from the lily pond. As more new-generation voters came to exercise their right to choose along with others that had been voting for a long time, it reminded me of how precious this right is to Americans.
As he voted, we prepared to go outside to collect a€?Zacha€™sa€? vote from the truck, being careful to follow procedures that would allow his ballet to be cast privately. What I have never written about is how difficult and how painful it was to be the Mother of a dying son, and what Life was like for me when I could no longer touch his physical presence.
No longer do I pretend that losing a sona€™s physical presence is easy, no longer do I need to be that strongest person in the room, no longer do I hide that losing him changed my own life in ways I could not have imagined.
I smiled with the recognition that it is the Seer that I can trust and I let the Story of discontent go. The need for change calls to be embraced with wonder and welcoming; it is part of the personality that has formed my human experience for as long as I can remember.
I try again; I want to catch the light and hold it, but the flame of the candle cannot be held, it must shine wherever it will or it disappears. Without judgment of how things should be, we can simply shine and bask in each othera€™s light.
His physical body left us nine years ago, but for me his spirit is in the sound of the wind through the treetops and in the light of an early Easter morning sunrise.
And as I chuckle at this thought that is now present, my perception of losing some short-term memory gives me ample time to remember the most important thing: what is the present moment offering me as an opportunity. My mother says, behind the flower the great sun, which I feel on my face, casts a dark surrounding edge that make the blossom even more vivid and creates a shadow of the stamens on the petal itself. The light shining in her sea foam green eyes reflects what she is seeing through my voice and her other senses. As a physical manifestation of a living Universe with unique skills, hopes, dreams, and personalities, how much healing we contribute is up to each of us for we have free will to choose what we will create.
In the words of Lamott, I am truly, entirely, wildly, messily, marvelously who I was born to be.
The strength coming back into his body was coming too late for him to survive this incarnation, but he seemed to love his experiences on the bike.
Because of their ages, that would be a very long time into the future, but it was the logic I used to hold on to this small symbol of my sona€™s longing for health and my own.
I turned and sped away leaving him to his own period of learning since he had not ridden a bike for sometime. It was a beautiful river, a beautiful moment, a beautiful bike, another memory, and I loved and was honored to share it with this friend. Perhaps your belief is that you love to write, but that you are too old and unknown to get published; you go forward anyway and your book is published and it brings you great joy. Because they are almost 100 years old, their roots under the surrounding plants, rocks, and soil are entwined with and supportive of each other in ways that cannot be undone. Since I did not feel he was open to the idea that this assumption was in and of itself telling about his view of equality, I just said there are many kinds of strength and the subject was ended. As this thought was taking up residence in my brain, I noticed a man and a small boy up ahead.
She said, a€?He still makes me laugh.a€? He, in character, chuckled with pleasure at that thought.
Ia€™ve dressed to go biking and yet I stayed in the drama unfolding at the French Open as if it had some significance in my own life. Time to make the smoothie that has become a part of my mornings of late: cantaloupe, pineapple, blueberries, yogurt, strawberries, apples, and raspberries. It has been years since I fearfully resisted emotional pain and stiffened and numbed against it. For so long, I have worked to be conscious, to be authentic, to be present, and in that moment, the part of me that feels sorry for myself was active yet again. Yes I said a€?shadows.a€? Now a week later I am at home and awake in the early hours of morning and I know it is time to write. Out of that stillness a rabbit hopped, two deer walked slowly behind me, and the early birds of morning began to chirp. This week as I gazed at the two photos, the child and the woman, it dawned on me that the beauty of love has always been within me patiently waiting for me to rediscover it. With the wisdom that I was changing my own life not his, I decided to offer him my support for sobriety one more time. The silence of deep meditation, the practice to live in this moment, and the awareness that we are a part of something bigger than our physical being have supported me to accept and heal from the things I can not change.
As we close our eyes and state our intentions for the week, I feel his love and send him mine. I am filled with love and gratitude for the ability to write my thoughts and feelings down in a way that enriches and expresses my experiences. Each day the intention to live in fear of losing a physical existence that is inevitable carries us away from the love that is the essence of the Life we all share. When I took it to be restored with new tires, etc., the repairman remarked on how well it was made and how unworn it appeared. Perhaps your belief is that your life experiences should have been different, but deep inside you know that it has been those experiences that have created you Life. This deep presence and seeing of their combined lives bring a growing appreciation of connectedness.
By convention, equiluxes are the days where sunrise and sunset are closest to being exactly 12 hours apart. His physical pain during the discussion expressed itself in a visible expressed pain in his chest as he talked about the need to live a more solitary Life to insure his freedom to be himself. I have a deep knowing that no matter what my perception is in the moment, the Universe is a friendly supportive force within me that a€?does not take sides, but seeks only balance.a€? It is my intention to have compassion for what I hear and see and to learn the lesson of impermanence as I witness it in nature. What mattered was the memory of love and support that flowed through the energy of the house into me and then to my daughtera€™s family. I began to think he was just bored as my friend and I turned to playing games on my IPad, so I asked if he would like to join us.
Their smells mingle with the sounds of the rain and for a moment the blender whirl drowns out all other sounds. Negatively, entire working class neighborhoods were gobbled up by the mining company as a€?the pit expanded.a€?The Uptown District is on the National Register of Historic Places but that's a€?not doing much for its current economic health.
Negatively, entire working class neighborhoods were gobbled up by the mining company as the pit expanded.The Uptown District is on the National Register of Historic Places but that's not doing much for its current economic health. I brought him to Your disciples, but they couldna€™t heal him.a€?A  Jesus replied, a€?You unbelieving and rebellious generation! I had forgotten this feeling of freedom that has moved my spirit since I was a child, the love of nighttime, and the magic of moonlight. Since staying here on the deck doesna€™t seem to be an option, I pull myself up, retrieve my camera (bent but not broken), and shuffle back to my room and sit silently on the bed. He lay in the back seat of the truck, and as I stood on my knees in the front seat to get his ID papers, Zach asked, Can I vote? It had been a few years since we had seen him because he just never showed up to family gatherings.
This time was different than before; this time I knew I could accept whatever choice he made, but he was my son and for myself I needed to offer him assistance one last time! The deep wound of loss affected many of my relationships and still I clung to the strength of knowing that I had done the a€?righta€? thing.
Without the wisdom and acceptance of or a€?surrendera€? to each moment as it is, I cannot choose an appropriate action with a conscious intent and honor my need to live authentically in this moment, and the next, and the next. Her voice falls upon my ears and her words become my thoughts, and I imagine with great specificity how the cherry blossom appears and admire its beauty. This cherry blossom is magnificent, and the glory of its connection to this growing child leaves me speechless and filled with awe for this blessed life.
Perhaps your belief is that there is only one Path to God and that prevents you from appreciating all those who believe in a different God than yours. Depending on where you stand, they are framed by the sky above, or the garden below, or by the giant stone arches of the porch.
There is evidence that we are still there as surely as we are here through our choices to give of ourselves.
He said, a€?No, Ia€™ll just walk up to the edge of the golf course.a€? His demeanor seemed unusual, but I dismissed it and returned to the game my friend and I were sharing. I glide to the coffee maker and the smell of coffee is strong enough to feel like I taste it already.
They're trying to restore the a€?district but it still looks worn, like the subjects of an Edward Hopper painting. They're trying to restore the district but it still looks worn, like the subjects of an Edward Hopper painting.
Just when I could hardly believe the vision my courage had co-created with the moon, a flock of wild geese cut the mist of the lake as they winged their way across in perfect formation. My body is tired, my mood is gray like the clouds above the ocean, and self-doubt seems to have taken me over.
He had stopped answering his phone and his friends called me to say they thought he was dying. Perhaps your thoughts are that your thoughts are true and you do not question further how best to live your Life with yourself or in relationship to others. The annoyance I felt in my body as I viewed his pain turned into compassion and acceptance for us both.
The back legs and rear of the frog were already in the snakea€™s mouth and the froga€™s body was badly bloated as its eyes bulged, its front legs kicked, and it sought freedom from the snake. My choice to visit the past because I love my daughter created a rare opportunity to catch a glimpse of time passing in the present, and my gratitude for my daughter and our choices to share our Life sang within my heart; a reminder and then a another memory of time passing in the present! I smile at the wonder of just being present without thinking something should be different than it is. This need to understand everything that happens has been a recurring theme for as long as I can remember.
I love Hopper.a€?I stayed at the Mindlen Hotel, a 1924 knockoff of the now-demolished Astor a€?Hotel in NYC, but this version's only nine stories tall. I love Hopper.I stayed at the Mindlen Hotel, a 1924 knockoff of the now-demolished Astor Hotel in NYC, but this version's only nine stories tall. In that moment, under his white hair and beyond his aging body, there was the light of youth and his eyes held the same excitement I had witnessed in the young girl that morning.
The last five years had been a roller coaster ride of emotions for me as he was better and then not better over and over again. I could do this and I began a long path of self-healing without the courage to ask for support directly.
Perhaps you have doubts about your own goodness and forget to look at the generosity that has been a major thread of your Life.
Earlier that day, a dog had stumbled upon a horneta€™s nest and had been stung badly, and a staff member went looking for the nest to eliminate it so humans could walk the path without being stung. I felt the pain of the froga€™s struggle; I wanted to do something to make this stop, but what?
I relived a day when my small son gave my baby daughter a drink from a cup as she rested in her crib; she almost drowned. If I understand it then I can accept it, or more accurately change it; or so my Story goes.
The Mindlen's been a€?restored to its a€?original condition, which was that of a fine businessmen's hotel.
The Mindlen's been restored to its original condition, which was that of a fine businessmen's hotel. Bring him here to Me.a€? Then Jesus rebuked the demon, and it came out of him, and from that moment the boy was healed. Then as if a powerful director had taken over the scene, a fish danced to the ice-like surface of the lake. Meditation had supported me in staying centered enough to love my daughter and her family, support my partnera€™s interests, hold a demanding job, and attempt to just enjoy and learn about my life.
Perhaps your belief is that friends and family should be more open hearted and open minded and so you close your heart and mind to them. It is the most reoccurring event involving injury that comes to the attention of the Nature Foundation. They are delicious and colorful in contrast to the dark quiet of the room and the day outside my window.
Tall-columned a€?lobby, chandeliers, marble floors.a€?I didn't detect there were any other guests with me on the second floor, which a€?is maybe why I slept so well.
Tall-columned lobby, chandeliers, marble floors.I didn't detect there were any other guests with me on the second floor, which is maybe why I slept so well.
Then the disciples approached Jesus privately and said, a€?Why couldna€™t we drive it out?a€? a€?Because of your little faith,a€? He told them. I turned to find a circle of life rippling the water and the dancing fish no longer visible.
Perhaps you have made what seems like a mistake and your belief is that you cannot be forgiven and that thought keeps you separate from someone you love.
My thought was that the bees were there first and should be left alone to resettle into their lives.
I chose only to stand and watch with sadness and curiosity as this unusual sighting in nature played out.
I gaze at my joy garden that is bright with purple, pink, and white against a blue-gray sky.
It had the slight chill of autumn, and I could imagine the burst of color that would soon fill the trees.
On this glorious October day, I felt that I had done everything I could and my body sagged from the weight of wanting him to be different. Perhaps the belief is that if you dona€™t act in a certain way, you will not gain acceptance; but someone once said, a€?if you do not always bring with you who you truly a€?area€™ others will fall in love with who you are a€?nota€? and how limiting will that be?
It is hard to express all that I saw through the visual memory there in our first small house. It took him some time to physically fill out the ballot, and it was my honor to wait for him. However, this kind does not come out except by prayer and fasting.a€?This same story is repeated in Mark Chapter 9, vs. For me, Zacha€™s light infused the darkness around the truck and as I looked from my fellow poll workera€™s eyes to Zacha€™s son-in-lawa€™s eyes, they seemed to glow with something unexplainable. I could no longer watch so we turned away and continued our walk through this civilized and yet still wildly natural, tourist attraction. In the pages, he quotes, William Stafford: What can anyone give you greater than now, starting here, right in this room, when you turn around? I was there for forty days and forty nights, all that time I ate no food and drank no water. The Lord gave me the two tablets on which God had written with his own finger all the words he had spoken to you from the heart of the fire when you were assembled at the mountain.
At the end of the forty days and nights, the Lord handed me the two stone tablets inscribed with the words of the covenant.Matthew Chapter 4, vs.
1-2 (NLT): Then Jesus was led by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted there by the devil. 16-18 (NLT): And when you fast, dona€™t make it obvious, as the hypocrites do, for they try to look miserable and disheveled so people will admire them for their fasting. Then no one will notice that you are fasting, except your Father, who knows what you do in private.
As you can see above: Demons are cast out, the Holy Spirit speaks, Moses received the Ten Commandments, and Jesus had the strength to overcome Satana€™s temptations.
It can strengthen our faith and get difficult prayers answered.There are different types of fasting. We are trying this for 21 days to achieve some answers from God and help get some desperate and difficult prayers answered. Fasting, praying, and special giving during the first month of the year sets the tone for the rest of the year. Fasting should be done in combination with things that can increase your faith, wisdom, and hearing from the Lord.
Read a good Christian book, read Goda€™s Word in the Bible, listen with praise and worship to Christian music, and of course pray. Thought for the week:A  For more advice and understanding read a€“ a€?Fastinga€? by Jentezen Franklin. 22-24: The Lord God used the rib of the man to make a woman, and then he brought the woman to the man. And the man said, a€?Now, this is someone whose bones came from my bones, whose body came from my body. 13: If a man has sexual relations with another man as a man does with a woman, these two men have done a hateful sin. Most are basically good people that give to charities, help with the homeless, do good deeds and are friendly and nice to people. There are gay celebrities on TV that do wonderful works of mercy and charity for other people.
However, if you are gay and dona€™t turn from your present life style and accept Jesus as your Lord and Savior you will go to the pool of fire (Hell). Yes, there is such a place and it is for eternity.A  If you intend to do it a€?somedaya€™, I hope you dona€™t get hit by a car and die before that happens.
He wrote the rule book (the Bible) and it is expressed in it several times that he feels the punishment for this is death.
We are all sinners in one way or another and must try hard to turn from our former self before we knew Jesus as our Lord.
To the ones who say it is genetic or upbringing, I offer this: Alcoholism can be passed down through genes and wife-beating can be passed down through upbringing. God is the highest authority, how do you think he will judge according to the Ten Commandments and his Word in the Bible? Hook up with a good faith based organization like a€?Food for the Poora€? or a€?World Visiona€? and help these people out. God Bless.====================================================================Pastor Pop-Pop 1-21-2010. We run the risk of becoming weaker when we stay at home, so gradually we wona€™t even notice.
Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour.a€? Notice it says he is looking for someone, like a lion does. They need Christian friends and other Christian adults if they are to survive in this world. Persevere in them, because if you do, you will save both yourself and your hearers.a€?7 Because we need the help of good people. Pastors cannot serve full-time, a building cannot be purchased, missionaries will not be sent out, ministries to the community wona€™t be fulfilled, and the lost wona€™t be saved. And how can they preach unless they are sent?a€?10 Because God says we should go to church regularly. 30-31: And then the sign of the Son of Man will appear in heaven, and all the tribes of the earth will morn, and they will see the Son of Man coming upon the clouds of heaven with power and great glory. And he will send out his angels with a trumpet blast, and they will gather his elect from the four winds, from one end of the heavens to the other. 10: But the day of the Lord will come like a thief, and then the heavens will pass away with a mighty roar and the elements will be dissolved by fire, and the earth and every thing done on it will be found out. 36-43: But of that day and hour no one knows, neither the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but the Father alone. In (those) days before the flood, they were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, up to the day that Noah entered the ark. Be sure of this: if the master of the house had known the hour of the night when the thief was coming, he would have stayed awake and not let his house be broken into. So too you also must be prepared, for at an hour you do not expect, the Son of Man will come. Pilots vanish, drivers vanish, wives vanish, neighbors vanish, and it is a world wide supernatural event that happens at the exact same time. There are no second chances of dropping to your knees and asking for forgiveness because it comes and goes in a blink of an eye.
Wars, Nation against Nation, famines, earthquakes, natural disasters, and a sin loving generation. I always interpreted the a€?He will come like a thief in the nighta€? as have a duel meaning. Some people know in advance when they will die and they, believe it or not, are the lucky ones.
Hint: It is hot, miserable, people are gnashing their teeth and screaming, and your caretaker has horns --------- hhmmmmmm. However, if you have accepted Jesus as your Lord and Savior and turned your life around you will be going somewhere that is truly pure love. If I am wrong, then worms get me just like you but if I am right I live in love and you dona€™t. I just dona€™t know where people get their ideas from because the Bible tells it like I do. Also, it is also true that before Jesus came to the earth as a man, that all the pagan nations were defeated by Goda€™s people the Israelites.
Why ---- because the Israelites worshiped the only God there is and the pagans worshiped false ones. A PS:A  Hope youa€™re not on one of those planes where the Pilot is a follower of Christ when the Rapture comes. Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance.
I was impressed by the many many friends who came to offer condolences and said kind things about her.
To go through life with so many people that call themselves your family around you is a tribute to the love that is shown and radiates from you. Some are acquaintances, some good acquaintances, others are friends and still others are good friends.
I think I need to add a new one that shows love beyond that of the latter a€“ it is family. Thought for the week:A  Happy Valentines Day !!!!!=============================================================================Pastor Pop-Pop 2-22-2010.
You see the fire trucks pull up and the fire men run from the trucks, get their ladders, hook up the hoses and then ------- sit down and take a coffee break. Your company is told that there is a mother and two children screaming for help from the third floor and they are close to being consumed by the flames. You and your men run over to see what instructions he has but he presents all of you with some Coffee and doughnuts.
All of us know of people, friends, and family that have not accepted Jesus as their Lord and Savior and are not saved.
They are like the family in the house.A  Because of pride, fear, or some other human emotion, we either do not share the Word with them or are not persistent with it to get them saved. The people we know then end up dying either naturally or prematurely in an accident and end up burning in the ever lasting flames of Hell. 18-20: And Jesus came and said to them, a€?All authority on heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. There were actually two letters that I have combined and edited to eliminate the womana€™s identity. It is offered here as another a€?building blocka€? about evangelizing and spreading Goda€™s will. I agree that we are all called to share the gospel with others and that we often fall short of that. The Holy Spirit is the one who draws them, ("No one can come to me unless the Father who sent Me draws him" John 6:44) convicts them and makes them see that they are sinners. People are drawn to God in us when they see something about us that they dona€™t have and they are made thirsty for. But they all have heard the truth many times and they refuse to acknowledge that they are sinners in need of a rescue. My part is to pray for them, live my life for Jesus (let my light shine) and share the truths of the gospel when there is an opening to do so.
It took many years, but I am at peace knowing that if they die without knowing Jesus therefore spending eternity in hell, that it was their choice. Another interesting fact is that we have different witnessing styles and people respond to different styles of witnessing.
But perfect love casts out fear" 1 John 4:18) To love others more than yourself and to know that without Christ they will spend all eternity separated from Him. When I go on mission trips, I pray for the hearts of the people that God is going to put onto my path and I pray that God would give me His eyes to see them as He sees them and His heart to love them as He loves them, and His words to speak to them.
Although it is debated if they are actually God speaking, they are recognized by most as books that are still good to teach from. Still others like the book of Sirach which is used a lot by the Catholic church brings question into mind that it may have been eliminated by Martin Luther just as a statement to his rebellious nature within that church. He even wanted to eliminate other books including the book of Revelation but, as history records, -- cooler minds prevailed. 60: Then all the people shouted and praised God, who saves those who put their trust in Him. Someone had a dream that as the soldier drew back to hit Christ that he grabbed the soldiers arm. As they talked and discussed, Jesus himself drew near and walked along with them;Mark 16, vs. The doors were locked, but Jesus came and stood among them and said, a€?Pease be with youa€?.
A Jesus also appeared to 500 others, Saul (whom later became Paul), and to his disciples again when he rose up and ascended into Heaven. Since Biblical times the tradition that the Roman Emperor Domitian ordered that the Apostle John be executed by throwing him into a cauldron of boiling oil has been widely held.




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