Grains of Sand

Winter 10-11

2010-12-27T05:23:00.000-08:00

After fire--rain, mud, sludge.
The mud rains down in unforgiving mindless mounds, burying stones and Christmas trees.
We must pay for clearing all the oranges and planting houses in their place.
Even those who lived there said, "This is not right."
The oozing tons of earth that invaded the homes and buried cars and boats and dolls and bikes came down because there was nothing to stop it.

No people, only things, some precious, some not were caught in the deluge--but the timing--Christmas makes it that much sadder.

Our hearts go out to those now homeless from an overabundance of mud and water.

Last week--A Horoscope Told Me

2010-11-28T19:55:00.000-08:00

I would receive a surprise visit from someone in my past. I think--two sepearate sources said something about the same thing.

This week end, 'someone from my past' notified me they were coming to this continent soon. The very next day, I went to a store 35 miles away and ran into another person from 'my past'.

There have been two occasions in my life when the horoscope information was completely relevant and precisely on the money. I guess this one makes a third.

I don't pay any attention to them--unless several of them agree.

A Spoonful of Sugar

2010-11-08T07:15:00.000-08:00

Do you think that your cynicism has any effect on the ability of God and nature to continue to give us grace and beauty?

Do you think that if you deny or ignore the blessings of the seasons or of each day--that they don't really happen?

Stopping to smell the roses is not enough. Close your eyes to the the flotsam that surrounds you. Close your ears to the clatter of discordant bile that poisons your soul.

Take yourself to a solitary place--take the rose with you and inhale its words deeply. Caress its petals and allow its sensory messages stroke your stresses away.

Keep its soft touch on your fingers, its inner-light in your own eyes, take in its breath and speak with only that fragrance on your tongue.

The rest of the world will intervene, interfere, and continue to tear itself apart,
but you don't need to be a part of it or take part in the process.

Hold to the image of the rose. It is rooted. It gives beauty and delight. Only when handled carelessly by ignorant or brutish hands does it defend itself with God-given spikes. Teaching the way to touch...a rose.

It Won't Be Long Now...

2010-10-22T05:07:00.000-07:00

Given the distance between the two extremes (name one there are plenty of them)--
The process and struggle to return to balance or continue rushing on to the other end, will begin to show progress.

These patterns are destined to change. Mankind is reaching a stage of maturity that will bring a paradigm shift in behavior. No longer will there be 'lines drawn in the sand'. No longer will the solution come when the loudest, meanest, richest, most unethical enactments be named the 'winner'. This is not to concede to them now.
This is to give hope to those who believe there is no recourse to defeat them.

Discourse, civil, level-headed, and courteous with no motivation to degrade, defame, or spread untrue rumors will return. The voice of reason will arise. That voice will quell the fires of hatred with elements of truth that cannot be denied or disproved.
That voice will speak with confidence, logic, and inspire the listener to turn away from negative, devisive speech and action to seek out and illumine their minds with truth.

Looking for qualities within their coharts and developing their own to become the spiritual being they were put in this world to become, will be the means to improve society.

I pray I get to see these developments before I leave this world.

Time, Patience, Reason, Reflective Listening

2010-09-21T05:45:00.000-07:00

Why do people think you can turn a battleship around in a stream over night>?
HUH? What the heck is she talking about?

You can't solve these massive problems of economics, health care, a crumbling educational system quickly--at least not without full cooperation from a majority of a population and or their legislators.

If that population and the legislators are working against any and all attempts to fix or even discover the source of the problems--nothing can or will be done...but the problems will not go away.

Only the understanding that a Government of a country with 400million compatriots
needs TIME to repair any part of a system that is not functioning.

People who are not willing to share--anything--or who have become knee jerk in their opposition to any new ideas or who have narrowed their thinking to following whoever complains the loudest--are part of the problem.

Listening to each other--not the so-called pundits--really listening by repeating to ourself the words that create a knee jerk response--in a small sense they then become our own--giving a bit of credence to those words and offering our opposing view with rational, inside voices.

That's all for now...I'm not feeling well.

Loving God, Believing in Him, Praising Him is not a competition

2010-08-23T06:17:00.000-07:00

Love for God and His Words is possible in many languages and every heart is capable of it. He answers to any name and cares for any and all non-beleivers. His creation of this universe and all that is therein- visible and invisible is simply a manifestion of His love for His creation. None would exist without His Creative Word.

This existence came into being when he commanded that existance to "B E".

We need all our cognitive, rational, and extra-sensory endowments to begin to fathom the how and why of it all.

These concepts are open and available to all who have eyes to see - read, understand and know that the love of God to His creation is universal throughout time and is not limited, nor is His Being limited, nor can His Being be contained in any form. Yet, He wishes to be known by His creation. The only place of knowing and the only place He can be known is in the human heart. But, He cannot take His place within it.

The door must be opened by the owner. He must be welcomed to His place by the possessor of the heart. The mystery of this relationship is that He gave us a heart with room for Him, but He CANNOT enter without our permission. He can choose to make Himself known to any of us as He Wills, but we must choose to accept or deny His
offer.

Those of us who deliberately search Him out and confidently believe with all our hearts and souls in His All-Loving embrace, realize that Love is available to all who seek it, need it, request it, and accept it. Many names are given to it--but it is not limited by any name or by any concept placed on it by man's limited understanding.

Spiritiual Starvation

2010-08-03T08:09:00.000-07:00

Playing Russian Roulette with my soul is a game I have played all my life. Many times I have lost. Tests have come that I was not prepared for and they swept me away. Instead of becoming stronger as a result of these tests--it was more like--I was put back to square one and had to start all over again, relearning and regaining any progress I had made.

The game is played by being fully aware of spiritual duties that keep one connected and nourished on a daily basis, simply, say a brief obligatory prayer once a day. How hard is that? We rebellious ones or undisciplined ones, don't do it even when we actually rememeber we are supposed to!

Time goes on as the soul languishes, longing for its spiritual nutrients. The lower self withholds this source of love from the spiritual aspect for God knows why..but sooner or later the test comes that could have been beneficial from the start and the malnourished soul lands in St James Infirmary begging for hope and forgiveness.

It is a mystery to me why this ridiculous pattern continues. The solution is so simple, the purpose so clearly stated, the need so vital and yet--every day that the soul is not fed, gives the lower self that much more power over the higher self.

God help us...me
Please!

My Love Reaches Across the Country

2010-07-16T06:47:00.000-07:00

We've mused about sitting on a porch
Decades from now
Laughing at all our crazy fun
And when it had all begun.

Funny things happen when we get together
And when one is sad--we both are
Our musing of future reflections
Brings us closer, takes us far

Far from whatever frustration
Is wearing on us
But we never imagined
It would happen just
Like this...

You get to come 'home'
Nearer to me
But, Oh what pain and sorrow
Brought it to be

Your source of aggravation
And joy
Over and over you called him
"My little boy..."

Left your arms, your life,... and his
We grieved and screamed...
Why did it have to happen like this?

Many a time I defended his view
Somehow his words just didn't get through
But I knew that you needed to hear him
And I knew that your place was still near him

A happy time was spent
Just hours before he went away
Im sure he didn't want to leave you
But his body said, "I can't stay"

Now we get to be together
Not as close or as often
As you and he
But for us -- you and me

Any time we can share is enough
We take turns
Being funny -- now its time
To be tough.

I spread my arms across this land
And offer my shoulder, and my hand
The distance to my mind is painful
But my heart finds it easy to span

Come...

Gifted Harbinger

2010-07-13T15:24:00.000-07:00

The biography of Ludvig von Beethoven depicts him in many contradictory terms. Various historians, musicologists, musicians masters of an array of instruments, chimed in with their view of the man.

He was generous, kind, empathic, tempermental, controlling, a bully, self-centered...I began to think I was watching Roshosmon.

And yet, he believed in God, gave God credit for the beauty and mysteries of this world and perhaps for his own gift.

After he became totally deaf, God had his full and complete attention. The message Beethoven was to set forth, the fanfare for God's Messenger on this planet and inspired him to write the Ninth.

That peice has everything. It is dark, it has pathos, it has brightness, and of course it has joy. But, if you ever find the original lyrics--study them well. It's all about God's desire for mankind to recognize their oneness.

Fire! Fire! Everywhere...hardly time to think!

2010-06-29T06:46:00.000-07:00

The season started early with plenty of fuel on hand.
The rains, the heavy, wet snows we had drenched
The rocks, trees, dirt and sand.

Our very short spring (a blessing in disguise)
Brought forth bouquets of wildflowers- a delight to our eyes

Now the fire-bugs abound
Poor, sick brothers
Born that way
I have found
Undetectable by others

First it was luscious fields, mountainsides of loam
Yesterday--it was an occupied home.

Neighbors came to comfort the residents of the abode
Gathering the friends in their arms to help them cope
All was lost inside that house and out
Lost too -- was hope.

All memories of happy times
All life -- the fish -- the dogs
Were in the house, the yard, where they piled the logs.

Fire out...holy water drained from ragged eaves
Carrying ashes to the soggy ground

The scene burned into the core of those looking on
Their hope completely broken
So they couldn't even remember what it used to be

Then something moved, within the smoke
A form emerged slowly!

More than one memory--he carried thousands with him-
A life! From the rubbley, smouldering ashes

Its Buddy! He's alive!- No burns! No gashes!

The old dog that grew up here
Hobbled out of the destruction
Licked his owners hand
And sat without instruction.

His demeanor at the hubbub
That greeted his appearance
Was true to his character
Of kindliness and patience.

Buddy walked through the amorphous wall of smoke
Bringing joy, relief, and yes...previously expired--
Hope.

The very sight of him lifted hearts and spirits
When the embodiment of hope appeared...
Everyone wanted to be near it.

Fires will continue.
There is no reason to doubt.
Vigilance will increase.
Now, we all who live here are scouts.

Buddy will enjoy his remaining days
Being the source of happy memories
That could have died in the haze
Of smoke and flame
Of guilt and blame

But he brought relief, healing
And praise --
After the painful, destructive
Blaze.

Thank you Buddy!
For just being alive!

Identity Crisis -Who Are We--Really?

2010-06-15T07:51:00.000-07:00

Those of us with too much time on our hands, may be tempted to reflect on and inspect every aspect of our being. We can get caught up in the miasma of 'me' and mystified by the myth of self. If we are unbalanced to begin with--such a never-ending search does not help. I venture to add--most of us are less than perfectly balanced beings.

When we see this vortex taking over our thoughts and deeds, it is time to get out and mingle. People watch, bird watch, take a hike, a Sunday drive and find someone who needs company to visit with.

Knowing ourselves is only important when faced with critical decisions. The rest of the time we should let ourselves be. If we take ourselves into account each day for a few mintues before going to sleep, so we can improve our actions, reactions and interactions, that is the best way to know who we are. That way we are laying the foundations and building a structure of 'self' that we are in touch with and guiding the growth of.

Pardon the preaching...I am basically talking to my....self.

How Many Ways to Say One Thing

2010-05-30T07:51:00.000-07:00

Words from the heart seem to have only one meaning. Truth penetrates all layers of emotional expression. But getting there--for some of us is nearly impossible. The response to those Truths (if memory serves) is a humbling, overwhelming feeling to fall to one's knees or curl up into a fetal ball.
As I search for ways to express those words and attempt to find them, it occurs that the most powerful ones don't belong to me. They come from an outside source--as a lovely surprise--tapping into the hidden recesses of my heart. The keys that open it and cause trapped feelings of love to gush forth, do what overused words can never accomplish.

Feel Me...

2010-05-17T06:49:00.002-07:00

Leave your concerns on the floor in a heap.
Bring me unspoken words for my heart to keep.

Take me into your confidence.
Trust that I will never leave.

Hide your eyes if you are not he...
The One I am asking to

Feel
Me.

Touch Me...

2010-05-17T06:49:00.001-07:00

I am waiting.

Hear Me...

2010-05-17T06:33:00.002-07:00

The wind that moves through the pines before sunrise pulls my thoughts out of their bony casement and carries them to ocean waves, heard from a distance.

A rooster and a male quail vie for vocal one-up-man-ship.

Whispering, now the wind speaks a message to any who will listen.

"Our mother--the earth--does not patronize us. She still blesses us with bounties and beauty, while she warns us repeatedly that we are making trouble for ourselves.
We are aware enough now to hear and understand these warnings. Yet, like rebellious, selfish, head strong youth that we are, we plunge ahead--careless, and thoughtlessly.

The earth's life-blood may be water, but oil is also. The demonstration she is giving us now will make it clear to even the most uneducated among us--the extent and importance of our interdependency and connectedness of all inhabitants on this planet.

The concluding result will be drawn out in time such that, it will have a name in a plethora of languages.

Mother will make it clear that this problem we created for ourselves will require all our attention, if we are to assure the continued existence of our species. Our attention must be focused on fixing it, preventing it, and all activity pertaining to it be discontinued indefinitely."

The wind is now sounding like a large crowd cheering with one voice.
The male quail sounds more like the rooster and the rooster has faded in agreement.

See Me...

2010-05-17T06:33:00.001-07:00

See me standing next to this page with sharp, menacing, cutting tools in my hands. They are symbols of what has shaped my life. Not the compassionate molding that is discretely referred to in ‘life stories’.

When I speak of the beauty of nature with a flourish of color and rose-scented phrases, it is my intention to distract you from the machetes and scabbards which I used to carve those words.

A Precious Thing

2010-05-13T07:13:00.000-07:00

Delicate realtionships are just that-delicate. Whether they are between husband and wife who are going through rough times and their continuing future is dicey, or whether between parent and child never allowed to fully bond.
If that delicate china plate is broken, many pieces can be seamlessly repaired, but there will no doubt be bits of various sizes that will never be found or able to be replaced.
Some of the members of these broken relationships will choose to toss the broken, imperfect object away--to the heartbreak of those who wish to keep it regardless of its condition.
Those tossing it away think it can be replaced or life will go on just fine without it--until life brings a situation to their door that calls for something precious from the past--one thing of beauty that connects them to all of history--and they no longer possess it.
Those who hold it, will continually be reminded of the pain that it represents. But, they will have time to come to terms with it and something to show for a life of pain.

A Wedding ~ An Anniversary ~ A Journey

2010-04-29T06:01:00.000-07:00

One week after our anniversary we will be going to a wedding. The brides colors are my favorites. The setting will be perfect. We were married outside in a small local park. The couple will be married in the groom's parents backyard. It will seem like a renewal of vows for me. As a Bahai we don't have vows (plural) only the phrase, "We will all verily, abide by the Will of God." Anything else we can choose to have said...or not.

The wedding will take place after we have made a journey to the Grand Canyon. Another renewal. My first trip there was with my husband after we were married. For several years we went there during Thanksgiving -- to avoid the massive summer crowds. Now we are retired and I was hoping for a 'spring' experience, but it seems spring is waiting to show up until around June or July.

This anniversary is our 34th. It will have multiple layers of flavors, colors, sounds and feelings. We each remember different moments about our life together and
those events that we remember in unison have the power to resucitate emotions we would rather stay buried.

Concepts of time, and our personalities are changing at about the same rate now.
Blinding speed. That makes every day or week and adventure, but even though we are changing--it is the person, the life together that we remember. Knowing that we
could not have had the same level of comfort and ease, if not for the person sitting next to us at this moment.

Without their patience, forgiveness, acceptance...love, our life would be a sad, short, lonely story.

A Shout-Out for Civility

2010-04-27T06:41:00.000-07:00

Good Morning! How are you today? You look very nice today. How can I help you?
You won't find these phrases on tweets, twits, or pagers. For them to be meaningful you need to be in the presence of those to whom you are speaking...(I never thought I would hear myself use the term 'to whom you are speaking'). In order to smile with your face and voice and convey your sincerety of your questions and comments.

If this makes me an old fogey-so be it-but I fear for a society that spends more time concerned with personal entertainment than in any other activity.

We are encapsulated in cars, trains, cubicals or even working from home. We 'talk' to each other through a machine that cannot convey warmth, intent, or inflextion to enhance meaning and emotion. When confronted with a real live human being, we seem to have discarded any intention of being courteous, sensitive, or open to social intercourse--(verbal interaction that allows for intimate conversations).

There are societies, cultures, that do not rely soley or even a little bit on these unnatural means to communicate. They spend several minutes inquiring about your family, your well-being, your opinion before asking what reason moved you to come to their store, or shop. This would make us very uncomfortable, and we would tend to look at their interest with suspicion. Perhaps damaging their efforts at establishing a friendship and hurting their feelings.

It would be good to practice civility if for no other reason, for our children to see that it is a valuable trait and skill that leads to virtues we can role model for each other on a daily basis.

Courtesy, kindness, friendliness, helpfulness, patience, all serve to improve society as a whole. The wise addage- "When you see someone without a smile-give them yours" works for civlity and courtesy too.

One of the keys that have made our marriage work for 34 years--is this-- We always say "Thank you" and acknowledge our partners effort for whatever it is. For every day tasks and chores, dishes, cleaning, cooking, retrieving something from another room...that makes it easier to remember to say it for the big sacrifices as well.

Ok. I'll get off my soapbox--but--it is disconcerting to see the rudeness so wide spread and unchallenged!

2010-04-22T05:37:00.000-07:00

Have you ever been 'the only' one in a room among 'others' who were unlike you?
The choices could be - political, religious, racial, nationality, gender --
Depending on your age and experiences, you were uncomfortable or perhaps not so much.

How do we overcome such differences and feelings of isolation in these circumstances?

Attempt to bridge whatever gap appears to exist. We do that by seeing our commonality. We are all human beings. We all have some degree of wanting to be accepted.

Being the only is no reason to become defensive, offensive, withdrawn or anxious.
It is natural to feel that. If we recognize the reason for the feeling, we can take steps to conquer it.

This is an attempt to convince myself that going to my reunion will be positive thing. That I will relax among those who are at opposite poles of my thinking, and beliefs, that I will not attempt to persuade anyone to my way of thinking--but I will share my thoughts with courage--regardless of the response.

Our Dance Lasts a Lifetime

2010-04-11T07:41:00.000-07:00

As partners we take turns, spinning away, twirling around, losing our balance and sight of each other.
We stagger back, confused and disoriented, feeling lost and unknown.
Our partner welcomes us and pulls us in, reminds us of all that we have shared.
Slowly we come to our self, the one that first entered the partnership
and add new steps to the dance.
We circle the dancefloor, with grace and rthym, riding on the music in harmony and lightness of being.
Then our partner spins away, twirls around --out of sight for a time-- we wait--patiently for their return.
We know where they went, we have been there ourself. We call to them and reach for their hand.
Disoriented and confused they come back to us, somewhat unknown now, but wait--
Remember the patience and understanding they gave? It's time to give that back now.
Shed light for guidance--when they ask for it-- and take no offense if it is rejected.
If you hold to the memory of dancing with harmony and grace--welcome them back with love.
Remind them of all that you have shared. Tell them how grateful you are for how they taught you the steps to this part of the dance.
Accept the new person they may have become and teach them the steps you remember.

Inspiration to All of Us

2010-03-31T05:51:00.000-07:00

Jaime Escalante was a role model for teachers. The effects of day to day disillusioning that occurs in any classroom--more so in urban areas--didn't phase him.

His belief in the students to overcome their environs was stronger than the effect of the environs themselves. Not all teachers can do that. Many of us, if not most--are worn down quickly as our rose-colored glasses that we deny we are wearing get crushed and tossed on the trash heap.

Jaime refused to acknowledge that the environment could undo or outdo his nurturing, and enriching efforts. He won.

He will certainly be blessed in multiple ways in his new Home.

Come Out With Your Heart Open!

2010-03-26T05:41:00.000-07:00

This post will seem very obtuse.

What will it take to get someone out of living in their head to 'being' in their body?

It is a mystery to me. I lived in my head, while at the same time extremely aware of my body. I worked very hard to lose a lot of weight and tone up the flab. You would think someone that focused on the lower portion of self would not be living in their head. I was.

While in that state, I was an emotional disaster. Another reason one would think that it would not be possible to 'live in your head', I did.

Sometimes it takes a major crisis to bring one down to reality--a car wreck, a death in the family--but those things can also serve to drive us deeper inside ourself.

What does it take? If I can remember--when it happens-- I will let you know.

Yvonne (Dabney) Wadley -- You Are Remembered

2010-03-25T06:30:00.000-07:00

Dear Yvonne,

Welcome to your new existance! Your mother, father, son and brothers and sister are there to greet you. It is their turn to care for you the way you cared for them. What a joy it must be to see Denny again. I miss him very much.

Your last days were as difficult as your mother's. For that I am saddened. You deserved better.

When the family needed a level head and a responsible person-=-you were there.
When your children needed a strong support - you were there.
Your insight and honesty were welcome and desperately lacking in all others.

I will ask that you be blessed in the world you have entered. Remember me to those that it may matter...I remember you in loving embrace.

Barbra (Dabney) Badger

Thank you. Please enjoy. Won't you join us?

2010-03-20T07:48:00.000-07:00

"Pardon me"... And I don't mean the sarcastic over-emphasized EXCUSE ME. If I were speaking it to you--my pardon me would either be accompanied by a smile or the fiercest version would be said with a strong stare and tone of determination.

"If I may"-- to add my opinion in the conversation-- AFTER I have actually listenedto yours.

If I feel stronger than that-- I should walk away and speak another day. If I think you are speaking an untruth--on purpose--I will wait for you to hear your own voice. If I think you are speaking an untruth told to you by others, I might smile and say- "Perhaps"
If I think you are listening to me-- I may offer what I believe to be a fact that differs from yours.

We owe these courtesies to each other as 'ordinary people', how much more do our leaders.

I don't have cable or satellite TV. I have never seen American Idol, Glen Beck and I avoid vitriolic voices whenever possible. It seems these 'role models' are having a great influence on how people speak to each other when opposing views are involved.

The subjects are judgemental in one way or another, divisive, and contentious by nature. These avenues of discourse are not helping us come together in a way that is enriching and uplifting.

So simple and still so true--"If you don't have something nice to say--keep still."

Fringes

2010-03-12T07:42:00.000-08:00

Extreme ends tapering off into oblivion
Eccentric, avant garde, decorative threads
Out of the norm in thought, concepts, beliefs

Sometimes the two opposing extremes
Sound alike in thier vitriol--not a coincidence
Afterall they come from the same place

The edge of sanity and beyond logic

I love fringes on some things-- the decorative kind.
For adornment they are better on someone else.
For decor I used to like them a lot more.

For religious, political, social, artistic, and other forms of personal expression--
no thanks.

Iowa Farm Girls

2010-03-09T06:43:00.000-08:00

These ladies are setting a standard that will establish a title -"Iowa Farm Girl".
That will stand for courage under duress, stamina in deprivation, generosity in lean times, self-restraint, honor in the face of ingratitude and ability to take the lead and know when to follow.

Iowa Farm Girls can be wise or wiseachers, as necessary. They can be independent in all things. The hard man-work is no hindrance to getting the job done. It has always been so.

Iowa Farm Girls start when they can walk; scooping a hole with an old teaspoon, drop in the seeds and on to the next; reaching under ol' mother hen taking the eggs and carrying them in; tossing the grain to all the rest, replacing some hay for the nests.

Roosters will fly at them with their spurs and the girls learn not to be deterred. Boars and rams will threatened and charge, dad will teach how to defend her.

As she grows and mom gives what she knows for milking, canning, cleaning the fowl
Dad will teach driving, maintaining mechinery and all
Tools she handles will be both culinary and carpentry
Iowa Farm Girls do it all with artistry.

These concepts may be long past,
But I venture to say
Whatever the challenges offered today
The result is the same--

Iowa Farm Girls take up the gauntlet
Pay no mind to 'gender'
Do what needs to be done, say what needs to be said
Manage, supervise, teach the unteachable
Fly the plane, drive the truck, or make the bed.

Taking the reins in every sense of the word
Whining will not be heard
Standing firm for principle and morals
Won't argue over the title of 'girls'.

For what they were--they will always be
Strong, determined, courageus and free
Their mothers, grandmas and aunts
Were the models who taught them the dance

Taking turns leading and holding back
Ready to step up to fend off attack
Ready to give care to neighbor and friend
Ready to serve a country and defend

Do not take for granted too long these gems
Do not overlook their contribution
They will not speak up too loudly for themselves
But they will not be ignored on some shelf.

Honor the WASP, the WAC and the WAVE
The service, the sacrifices they gave
They came from all around the nation
To defend the flag we unfurled

Rise up these humble souls
These beautiful, generous,
Iowa Farm Girls

Welcome! Come on in ...

2010-03-06T09:19:00.000-08:00

Welcome! Come On In…

Certain songs are meant for certain times of a day.
Songs that fix your head-and smooth the way
Few of us would want to hear
76 Trombones when its time to go to bed.

On the other hand its fun and timely for
The William Tell Overture
When getting on the on-ramp with nobody else there.

The perfect song for the perfect moment is a prize
For being faithful to the sound track of our lives.

There was a place some time ago
Made of concrete and wood,
Outside an enormous oak tree stood.

Inside warmth would greet you at the door
Good food, hot coffee and smiles
Who could ask for more?

Set back from the street—easily missed
But grown children of families brought their children
Friends met friends and reminisced.

It was—not a restaurant—but a diner.
No lost souls, except for mine
Dwelt behind the Welcome sign.

At the end of a long day
When dark or just barely

Few nights did I not go in—
Very, very, rarely
Warm air wafted
Music would play
“Make the world go away…”

Pin ball machines clanging
People laugh and chatter
Cooking smells and coffee
Here comes Edna with a platter!

As soon as I was settled in
With the other familiar faces
Another perfect song came from the juke box—
perfect for these kind of places

Someone played C 3
Soothing me down through my weary bones
The melody caressed me
Mellow notes and tenor tones
Nowhere else in world would I choose to be

“Welcome to my world…
Won’t you come on in…

“Yes”, I said
Over and over again.

An Eagle of Special Effects Porportions

2010-02-15T13:18:00.000-08:00

In the dreamtime--there was an eagle
Perching on a ledge.
"Oh! My! Look at that!" I said.
And he turned his head.

The scene zoomed like through a camera lens
He grew impossibly huge.
If it were real, he'd been thirty feet high or more.

He looked at me intensely
And had something to convey
His story -- my story --
Something powerful to say.

Its in the eye of the beholder
What is powerful and what is not
In days to come or months or years
Only time will tell what that giant eagle has brought.

Fire, Ice, Courage, Sacrifice

2010-01-29T07:03:00.000-08:00

The fires of hatred, born first in ignorance, transform into percieved competition.

They burn into the hearts and minds from seeds among the refuse planted by men afraid to be wrong or admit it.

Icy cold those hearts who find comfort only by subjecting innocent, incorrupt to a literal cold, in a prison that chills the bone to the marrow.

In such blind igorance, how could they know--they had lost before they began?

Fires of hate-filled and loveless hearts have no power or weapon stronger than courage.

Courage strong enough in some to BE the change they believe in. Strong enough to keep their tongue from uttering hateful words in offense or their limbs from striking back.

Strong enough to keep the fire that does not burn, alive, within their soul.

Courage that stands before such fierce ignorance can only lead to sacrifice.
The hatred of the accusers has no choice but to consume the object of their fear.

Sacrifice of the pure and innocent also has a consequence, that these unknowing ones will never comprehend.

From each drop of innocent blood thrown in the face of God, a thousand -- maybe tens of thousands sleeping souls will awaken.

They will arise around the globe in places unreachable by that hate and proclaim with one voice..."One God, One People, One Faith".

What Abdul'Baha Says...

2010-01-21T08:34:00.000-08:00

This quickening spirit has spontaneous emanation from the Sun of Truth, from the reality of divinity and is not a revelation or a manifestation. It is like the rays of the sun. The rays are emanations from the sun. This does not mean that the sun has become divisible; that a part of the sun has come out into space. This plant beside me has risen from the seed; therefore it is a manifestation and unfoldment of the seed. The seed, as you can see, has unfolded in manifestation and the result is this plant. Every leaf of the plant is a part of the seed. But the reality of divinity is indivisible and each individual of human kind cannot be a part of it as is often claimed. Nay, rather, the individual realities of mankind when spiritually born are emanations from the reality of divinity, just as the flame, heat and light of the sun are the effulgence of the sun and not a part of the sun itself. Therefore a spirit has emanated from the reality of divinity, and its effulgences have become visible in human entities or realities. This ray and this heat are permanent. There is no cessation in the effulgence. As 262 long as the sun exists the heat and light will exist, and inasmuch as eternality is a property of divinity, this emanation is everlasting. There is no cessation in its outpouring. The more the world of humanity develops, the more the effulgences or emanations of divinity will become revealed, just as the stone when it becomes polished and pure as a mirror will reflect in fuller degree the glory and splendor of the sun.

(Abdu'l-Baha, Baha'i World Faith - Abdu'l-Baha Section, p. 261)

From transcendent God to finite and imperfect world

2010-01-20T15:54:00.000-08:00

To explain the relation of a totally transcendent God to a finite and imperfect world, the belief in emanation denies that God directly created the world but maintains rather that the world is the result of a chain of emergence through emanations. From God (the One, or the Absolute), the one prime principle, flows the divine substance; his own substance never lessens. As the flow proceeds farther from God, however, its divinity steadily decreases. When a stone is dropped into water, the circles ever widening from the point (God) where the stone fell are emanations, becoming fainter and fainter.

The above paragraph is directly from an encyclopedia.

Contemplating such concepts brings the question --where does mankind fall in those infinitely widening circles? Assume for a moment, YOU are the center of the universe, still a human being, still on this planet, but in relation to everything and everyone else -- you are the center. Where in the steady decrease of divine emanations are you? How can that be determined? Does it matter at all? Does humankind have a special dispensation of divine emanations coming to them? Why should they? What on earth would we do with it.

Does it suffice to put this nugget of potential descriptions of God's power in our understanding? What am I missing? What questions remain? Send them to me.

Emanations

2010-01-20T15:51:00.000-08:00

Doing some research on this...fascinating topic more later...soon I hope.

Bahai's of Iran --Please pray for them

2010-01-11T12:30:00.000-08:00

People who know about suffering and intolerance; people who believe that if one is suffering, we all do: people who speak to a higher power and ask for help; people who work for peace and justice any where and everywhere on our planet...please pray for the Baha'i's of Iran. Those that are in a literal prison, those that live in that land because they cannot leave and are in a larger prison because of it, and those who have left family members who are being imprisoned and denied all basic human rights...pray for them all.

Gregorian New Year...With a Blue Moon

2009-12-31T07:07:00.000-08:00

The moon is blue this night that bridges two years.
Not in color or even in mood
It only happens every 19 years
That number is important and it is clear

Blue moons are significant
And nothing to fear
Beauty to appreciate up in the air
Take into our eyes and be thankful

There
A message
A sign
A reassurance

We are cared for
Cradled
Given bounties and blessings
And more

O moon that is blue
From me to you
I see
Behold
All below gazing at thee.

Precious...

2009-12-20T13:31:00.000-08:00

How many of you are there Precious?
When will the world cease to crush all the precious ones like yourself?
Who will stand for you, defend you, protect you?
Do you --WILL you ever come to know how precious you trully are?
May God give those who didn't survive the ignorant evils perpetrated upon them --a glorious reception and bountiful existence in the world to come.

I'm Sorry

2009-12-06T17:01:00.000-08:00

For words that were too harsh
For laughing when I was to be listening
For not being there in the beginning

Some say asking for forgiveness from one you have wronged is misplaced.
I don't know any other way
And i don't really care what other people say.

Not in this case anyway.

Usually sorry is not enough
But it will have to do.

Anyone who sees this
Consider it to be for you.

Gratitude

2009-11-24T07:56:00.000-08:00

To be able to remember.
To have all my faculites --still.
To be able to give
And recieve.

For living things that delight
and amaze.

For conditions that set the sky ablaze.

For people that help me see
The variety in humanity.

For all these things, and creations
should be in my reality
God alone deserves the praise
For all that makes my days
A kaliedoscope of thoughts and feelings

Of changes, and chances to meet them.

God, unknowable but All-Knowing
Holder of all Names, but Unnamed
Provider beyond all capacity of man
To begin to understand

Leaves us to ourselves until we turn to Him
Yet all our needs for living are given.

Gratitude is a feeble word and doesn't really meet
The whole of His giving.
Life abundent for each and all
With everything to sustain it
Inward and outward
No matter how inept we my perform
He does not reclaim it.

Patiently He waits, He gives, infinitely
We chafe and blame speak profanely

He loves. He guides. He comforts with spirit.
We feel His love, His majesty, but cannot yet
Get near it.

Praise and gratitude...qualities I need.
Please God help me achieve them
With diligence and speed.

Gratitude

2009-11-19T17:34:00.000-08:00

Endless gratitude for unknown heroes.

Thanksgiving

2009-11-14T08:07:00.000-08:00

Giving thanks is a daily requirement for spiritual health. I see on this medium--more mention of black Friday, then the day that comes before. A clear symptom pointing to the globally rampant disease of materialism. The more we feed the creature that keeps crying, "Me,Mine,More", the stronger it gets it shoves the other sibling housed in the same heart-- "Other,ForYou,Enough" out of the nest.

Some nations have a handle on the balance of materialism and other aspects are missing. Some nations not accustomed to having a capitalistic bent, have lost all perspective and it was ruinous to their existence.

Persons, families, and on out in ever increasing ripples will do well to remember that giving thanks is a daily, spiriutal need, keeping their own greed in check and perfecting their understanding of humility. May God help me in living up to my words.

Another Argument Against Aggression

2009-11-07T13:12:00.000-08:00

The ripple effect of perpetrating aggression or violence on someone in opposition is endless.

Capturing the hearts and minds of the 'masses' that we are attempting to 'liberate' has never, will never and can never be accomplished through any form of violence. Whether we (as f0reigners) are attempting to defend them in word or deed, or not.

If we send troops armed with skills to firm up infrastructure, upgrade medical and technical progress, agricultural successes, and educational professionals by the boatload, we may succeed.

But even those brave souls should be prepared to give their lives. If only to prove the sincerety of our commitment to a nonviolent partnership for progress.

Some say both are necessary, because the non-military personnel must be protected. I say, no go without arms and let the people's own sense of injustice rise up against those who oppose peaceful efforts.

The key is that there can be no covert activities coinciding with non-violent programs.

This is the second week of my on-line writing class.

2009-11-03T16:03:00.000-08:00

My teacher likes my writing so much he is embarasssing me.!! The assignments have been easy and fun though.

I have to start looking for a place to get published besides self-publishing. I also need to accumulate a good size stock of prose that I can hawk to magazines or ????

Most of the prose I have to offer is either related to a very small niche --or so overdone that I wouldn't have a ghost of a chance to get in print.

Dream Scene

2009-10-29T07:58:00.000-07:00

Jasmine and Honeysuckle mingled in the spring night air. A woman wrapped in silk fabric that breathed the fragrances and sifted the coolness of the breeze onto the fine hairs of her skin, moved through the night with silence and grace.

Hues of blue from the moonlight coated everything but the lights from the candles and oil lamps glowing orange from windows and crevices.

She made no sound, even from her sandals as she glided past pools with night lilies blooming in open-petalled embrace of the blue moonlight. The street became a path into the trees and all orange lights were now only spots in the distance. Had anyone seen her they would have found their breath taken by her beauty. Had they heard her speak they would have been astonished at her eloquence and wisdom. More so, that her voice conveyed a strength, depth, and confidence not ordinarily present in a woman's voice. It was captivating, magnetic.

Though completely covered, her hair was past her waist and every inch curly by nature and ebony in color.

Her spiritual family called her Solace of the Eyes. Some said those eyes had a mask made of light. Those who had seen this light had seen her fully expose her face, an act that was to be the harbinger of women's freedom and rise from oppression world wide for coming millenia.

Clutching a small wooden box containing a roll of parchment, she slipped through the trees and into the darkness as a sprite. The path was one which she had worn and was easily followed even in the dark for she dared not bring a lamp.

The intoxicating breath of the flowers, the lilies and the moonlight stirred her mind and moved her heart to spill forth poetry in her head as she sped along the path to her destination. Poetry to be read and understood in the language it was originally written. Poetry that would remain hidden until such time as the human heart could withstand its beauty and power. Poetry that could “transcend the murmur of syllables and sounds and rise above words and letters”… poetry borne of love beyond the understanding and grasp of the mind of common man ….until…. five centuries past the telling.

But it was not poetry in the scrolls concealed in the intricately handcarved, sandalwood box. It was not letters conceived in romantic euphoria whose secrets could not be exposed.

If the pen is mightier than the sword, and if words and thoughts are more powerful than bombs and cannons, she carried that which was more powerful than the strongest earthquake, tornado, monsoon, hurricane, tsu nami, flood, or lightening.

The papers she held were vibrating with energy, rumbling with their own forces, nearly alive with their own breath, for they held the words of an Authority sent by God. A Messenger sent after 500 years of waiting and to reign for the next 500,000 poured forth onto these Holy Scripts words that would guide all of mankind for 10,000 generations.

Power such as this, is a threat to any cleric, or government based on religious dogma.

Her life was in danger with every breath she took. She delivered the Writings to waiting souls stirred alive to the point of eagerness to die for such a Cause. The threat was so great that 10’s of thousands did die, including the beautiful poetess Tahirih.

Heading to Tempe for the Weekend

2009-10-22T18:20:00.000-07:00

My soul mate -- Adrienne will be there and we can hug and laugh and scream and jump up and down and hug and laugh and scream...

She is God's gift to me this friend. She accepts me in all my crazy moods and in all my quirky ways of being a 'friend'. She knows first hand many of the pains I have overcome in my life and knows my part in them. She was given some particle of myself long before either of us were born, or else we ate from the same fruit. We connect across the continent without telephones or computers. Sorrows are halved and joys doubled.

Even though there is more than a decade difference in age --it doesn't show. We love the same music (mostly --we aren't clones after all), have a similar sense of humor, and many times when we are together, magic happens!!

I will post when I return to tell of the magical moments we may have shared.

At Last

2009-10-17T07:41:00.000-07:00

I had a short but satisfying flying dream. I was about to be run over by a 55 Chevy so I lifted off the ground and moved 30 yards or so then gently lit upon the ground, softer than a ballet dancer. I was barefoot and there were stickers in the sandy soil, but I didn't pick any up in my skin. I hadn't had a flying dream in many years. A very nice, calming gift from God.

Thoughts on "The Big Bang" (not the TV show)

2009-10-16T08:02:00.000-07:00

If the universe is expanding infinitely and some believe that it is a finite entity, how can both be true?

The Big Bang that so many taut as Truth with mathmatical proofs to back them up and quantum this and thats which are in fact still only theories --I propose this thought.

The universe expands itself to a point where it meets resistance. It did that before there was a Big Bang. The Point of Resistance gets stronger as more and more pressure is put against it. Galaxies get into a traffic jam, black holes begin to swallow more than they can spew, as soon as one particle of this massive cosmic creation peeks through the Point of Resistance, its like the single sperm breaking through the membrane of the ova. But it opens Pandoras Box and all that pressurized, angry, galactic stress is released into a larger allbeit, unknown realm in which it continues to expand.

The idea that there is expansion and contraction cycles, as though breathing is also relevant and to be considered. However, those actions can be done within the expansion realm I described.
That is, the space child can breath within this universe and the universe itself can throb. But continue to expand until it reaches the Point of Resistance.

There is a Native American story and an ancient Star Trek that depicts two brothers in eternal struggle. Two opposing forces, born of the same source (?) locked in a conflict, for should one of them win --the annhilation of the universe as we know it would take place. To the Native Amerian they are two parts of our psyche. Our humane nature and our animalistic nature and since we are both ...they are in conflict all through our individual existence. To the Star Trek writers, they were matter and anti-matter and if anti-matter won... well... there ya go! It is not clear what would happen if 'matter' won. Something ELSE to think about.

I Couldn't Stop Smiling...Except When I Was Crying

2009-10-12T05:14:00.000-07:00

The nearby community that I claim for my own was saved from a horrendous fire last week. Pictures of flames 50 ft. high being pushed around with 50 mi. an hour wind gusts cause everyone that sees them to walk away shaking their head in wonder.

The whole town of 6000 was evacuated for three days while the planes, helicopters and ground crews worked to keep the fire from consuming any portion of our town. Police, sherriffs, and CHP patrolled for looters or 'hold outs' to keep even them safe.

When it was all over, the local Lion's Club sponsored a spaghetti dinner for all the service workers that saved every home and business.

Earlier in the summer -August, I believe, a fire started closer to my house. On the main road leading to my house just a mile away, an arsonist had started a fire. After the initial excitement of the low-flying helicopters and the DC-10 dropping red dust, adrenelin took over and I started collecting 'stuff' to take with me.

There wasn't much wind that day and the fire was out in an hour or two, but it took out the power for the rest of the day. When I went into 'town' a few days later, there were crews
still working and it was plain to see where the fire had gone and where it was heading.
Fires can move at 50 miles per hour when the wind is pushing them, and at that time, they have created their own weather and their own wind. Looking at the hillside and canyon crammed with thristy and tired brush unburned and uncleared for untold decades, it was obvious the firemen had saved my neighborhood...my house.

I rolled down my window to say thank you and a lump formed in my throat, such that I had to shout it, not sounding very grateful. I had to shout it just to get it out.

Fsst forward...last week...Friday. The big fire is over, the dinner is prepared and I show up to serve food, take out trash, whatever. I bring 3 dozen cupcakes and my husband prepared 4 dozen cookies. The Lions made the main meal and the 'community' was assigned to bring desserts.

From the moment I parked my truck, The Smile pulled my wrinkled cheeks away from their usual position. Every crewman, every helper, every moment of carrying out my task reinforced the purpose of that smile. Joy of serving, pleasure at seeing warm, familiar friends, watching the firemen enjoy the meal and hospitality kept the smile from fading.

Until, I got the ear of one particular fireman and tried to tell him about the lump that stopped me from a proper thank you. Tears welled up and again the lump tried to stop the words. The fireman put his arms around me and I listened to his beating heart for a moment. The sound cuddled my inner child and comforted her in her deepest place of being. I was finally able to thank at least one fireman. It took nearly a thousand of them to save my house...twice! And it was all I could do to thank just one...once.

I went back to serving, and The Smile took over my face once again. It wasn't one of those 'forced' smiles I usually use to reassure people that "I'm NOT depressed....REALLY!" The Smile came naturally but I couldn't control it which made it feel unnatural and not mine. But it was, and it came from the inner child's joy at being under blue sky clear of smoke, with tall pine trees untouched by flame, and the purity of heart that is present when a child tenderly and joyfully gives someone they love a freshly picked, hand-chosen flower.

Equality Does Not Mean 'Sameness"

2009-10-07T05:10:00.000-07:00

Each wing of the bird has it's own characteristics. Each wing has a good mind, a pure heart, and communication brings about understanding. Understanding provides each the opportunity to empathize for the other. Decision making over long terms -- decades-- can only be fair and loving if everyone who is affected by it has a say.

Each wing has a different set of strengths that complement and add to the other wing.

Both are necessary for flight.

Gratitude

2009-10-06T08:02:00.000-07:00

How can it be that we take so much for granted? The abundance of bounties available to us keeps our sense of need and fulfillment numbed. It is up to us to keep in touch with our higher self, our soul-self, to continue to be grateful for the 'small stuff'.

Experienceing the least inconvenience could be enough to trigger the gratitude button.

A close call of any description wakes those of us who have an easy life. Description of an 'easy life' in my universe is having all basic needs covered, a small group of friends that would take you in if your house burned down, and safe to the point that you can contemplate a future that encompasses years...not hours or days.

Observing a poor soul at the side of a city street spewing forth bodily fluids instills that gratitude in some of us and we sigh, "There but for the grace of God, go I."

As of Sunday evening, my gratitude for a path to my home... just the path... was foremost on my list. As the fire subsides and evacuees are allowed to return to homes untouched and a home town they hold dear, the wave of gratitude to all who sweated, strained muscles, choked on smoke, lost days of sleep, protecting this home town... this wave of gratitude is palpable and will become manifest in the form of celebration as soon as it can be arranged.

Fire on the Mountain

2009-10-05T07:06:00.000-07:00

The plume of smoke of a 'new' fire is distinctive because it is beautiful. Unless the fire has eaten or is eating a home or vehicle, it is white. If it has consumed something other than vegetation it carries a blackness at its base that infects the whole tower. Here in the mountains, it is easy to mistake a fire plume for a welcome thunderhead-- that is unless you have learned the difference.

The difference being an inherent greediness on the part of the smoke tower, which has also mimiced a mushroom cloud. There is a sense of entitlement and undisciplined growth to the smoke. The thunderhead can roil, but intent is sensed to be urgent carrying out of duty.

After the thunderhead the sage, buckwheat, and other plantlife give praise and thanks by sending up their aromas in heady, musky, and invigorating wafts.

During a fire areas not even remotely involved suffer and choke and have eyes feeling made of sand for weeks following and the smell is distinctively that of destruction. Of dead things that had no chance to say good bye, of new things that had no chance to live a life, and of all the bad memories you ever had coming back to haunt you.

For my friends that may be reading this, we are fine, The Dude is fine (cat), and with some difficulty, I made it home last night.

There was a great deal of doubt as to whether that would be possible, but where there is a Badger -- there is a way :).

Copying the link address

2009-09-28T17:07:00.000-07:00

Did it work?

Music, Muses and Magic

2009-09-26T20:19:00.000-07:00

Music, Muses and Mason City, Iowa

The spirit of the time I was born in was one of kaleidoscopic changes. Music from 1949 like, “Good Night Irene”, “So Long,It’s Been Good to Know You” and “ If I Knew You Was Comin’ I’d Baked a Cake”; pure in content and intent watered the seeds that grew into the variety of music that guided my life.
Leaving computers and cell phones that can do everything but change a diaper -- behind, I recall slide shows, or even those viewers you hold up to your eyes with pictures on a wheel that moved as you pulled down a lever.
Mentally, I have a slide show of ‘my youth in Iowa’. The slides depict special buildings like the places I lived, the school I went to, the church, the farms, the library made famous in The Music Man and many outdoor scenes. There are a few teachers, and a few friends. There are the Christmas decorations, glowing on the street poles in spite of an evening snowstorm, and the owl that attached itself to the screen of our second floor apartment window.
. The parades every first Sunday in June went beyond slide show to a memory movie. Our town had band festivals with marching bands from all over Iowa and parts of Minnesota, Illinois. Anticipation burst asunder when the whistle of the first drum major blew. The sounds of brass instruments and bass and snare drums, horses whinnying and clopping, children squealing, and adults clapping and greeting long lost friends were parts of those parades.
The library, silent, however, acoustically endowed with an echo in the children’s room. Thousands of books, and other printed matter called for the attention of readers. Odors of papers and glues, decades of dust and wax greeted every nose. From every corner, counter and shelf, they tugged at your senses as soon as you walked in the door.
Smells in the library competed with the Cinemascopic view outside. The windows in the reading rooms for children and the one for adults were two stories high of clear, unobstructed pane glass. The nature walk that followed along the river next to the library provided an ever-changing view. The seasons were on display at all times out of those windows.
From the first green, Q-tip- sized buds on the century old trees, pussy willows, and wild roses in spring that lead to lilacs, and violets, and lily of the valley. Summer was in full dress with vines and bushes of unknown varieties sheltering the stone pathway to the river.
Of course, fall presented an explosion of color through that kaleidoscopic canvas, because the trees grew beyond the frame of the windows from top to bottom and past the edges. Representing the sky were miniature triangles of blue; an afterthought to the reds, oranges, and yellow and browns filling the towering windows. Colors like those inspired children like me to try to capture the fleeting glories on sheets of paper. We used finger-paints, crayons, watercolor or tempera paints trying to express the excitement those colors meant to us.
The quiet gray of winter sky blanketed the world. Snow covered all man and nature’s creations. Icy air was cracked by the staccato speech of crows and ravens, hopping along the unyielding riverbank.
When the sun appeared, it fought losing battles with bone-chilling winds and ever-present, waiting in the wings, gray amorphous beasts that roamed the sky, killing all warmth through massive passive resistance.
By persistence and the power of patience, the sun finally won those battles and drew the earth closer melting ice and snow and waking all sleeping life forms. When we looked out of the library windows on the world of nature, the lessons were presented in rhythmic, glorious and inspiring patterns.
Those patterns were imprinted on my young mind and spirit.
Now that I am a senior citizen and live in a desert, I travel widely to seek out classic signs of season change. Taking photographs, some that can be printed, and some just stay in my heart.

For My Granddaughter

2009-09-23T11:39:00.001-07:00

There are not enough lifetimes available to us for me to be able to tell you all my heart wants you to know.

I have been through many lives while on this earth for just one lifetime. I have been poor in material and rich in spirit, ignorant of my self and wise in ways of the world, rebellious and reckless, full of anxiety, guilt and remorse. The reasons for all these states of being would fill a book that would bore you to tears. Yet, I would want you to know, that for all the suffering, sorrow, depression and years of wandering somewhat lost,
in the long run learning about myself, God, the hearts of others and all the wonders of this universe were worth the costs.

My hope for you is that you can avoid much of the negative aspects of such searching and growth, but that is too unrealistic.

I know, that whatever you choose to do with your life and whenever you decide it is truly yours and take charge of it, you will bring a special understanding and response to the changes that occur.

Let me get to know you so I can give you guidance that will fill all the right spaces and nourish your heart at just the right time. Without even 'knowing' you, I love you and will do whatever I can to show it.

You will be welcomed with loving and open hearts and arms.

2009-09-23T08:05:00.000-07:00

Be well. Be happy. Be safe my love. Don't forget to see with you own eyes and hear with your own ears and heart. Don't forget you have the right to explore all the paths of light while loving only one lamp.

Asking God to Guide Us

2009-09-18T17:26:00.000-07:00

Those life-changing moments when our compass spins with no direction, we ask God to guide us.
Before we find the path He wishes us to take, He nudges and we step with trepidation until we are assured He is the one guiding and protecting us from ourselves.

Sometimes when we are the most certain it is He who is directing our steps, we are in the way of His choices.

We must know our own selves well enough to know that we are not fooling our self. There are some very basic relationships in life that need to be fully explored before knowing ourself completely. Those relationships form the basis of long-term unions and it is important that we know what our role is or what we can truly create and what we are lacking, so there are no surprises.

Intimate knowledge of the one we see as our other half is also critical.

Ask each other "What do you see yourself (us) doing in 5 years, 10 years." Write down the answers in separate rooms and then compare the responses.

Ask each other " Who will make money? Who will be responsible for paying the bills?"

Ask each other, " How many children? When? What religion and spiritual upbringing will we give them?"

Ask each other, "What is the weirdest thing you ever did?" What do you think of it now?

Ask each other, "Rank in importance the following : family, work, money, religion, friends, art,
music, books, cars,.... add anything you like. List separately and compare together, discuss.

Ask each other" How shall we discipline the children? Who will have the 'last word'? Ever...

Who will decide what color to paint the living room? What kind of car to drive? Where to live?
Will we both work? How long? Will one quit a job for the other? Why? Why not?

What do you see your greatest challenge within yourself? Do you think I can/will help you with that?

These questions are for discussion and to evaluate 'life decision' compatibility. I don't suggest any answers or place ANY judgement one way or another. These are things a successful couple explore BEFORE marriage. All that and more...
If you don't think they are important...try one anyway. See where it goes.

Card Pictures

2009-09-15T05:11:00.000-07:00

I Went To a Funeral Yesterday

2009-09-11T06:21:00.000-07:00

So much about it was wrong.

The person was too young.

There was too much crying.

There were too many pictures

Too much music.

Too many people for the room.

It was so wrong. So long. Too long.

NUmber Nine Number nINE nUMBER nINE

2009-09-09T08:09:00.000-07:00

The Beatles Number Nine Dream should be played all day today. All nines front and center!
Do everything nine times today. Have nine cups of coffee. Call nine friends. Adopt nine cats.
I'm known for doing too much, saying too much, writing too many words when fewer will do.
I give too much, tell too much, stay too long, arrive too early, and just don't know when to quit.
They FINALLY made a day for me when too much is just enough! Stream of consciousness has never been my favorite form of communicating, but today... let 'er rip!

Clarification of Heart blog...

2009-09-08T08:29:00.000-07:00

God has no 'form' and no need of form. Reference to 'His most critical organ" is merely to make the argument understood. It is in no way my or Bahai representation of God.

Now. The heart has a 'mind' of it's own. Research shows it is made up of more nerves than muscle and emits hormones to communicate to the brain and other organs in order to command the body to do what it must for survival. The brain responds by telegraphing orders through the nervous system that the heart does not command.

So. The heart is the first point of action, if the heart is a hardened one and the action required consists of assisting another human being it will be ignored. Until such time as the heart's owner changes spiritually either in knowledge or action that causes growth, that heart will be isolated from knowledge of God.

Heart of Hearts

2009-09-06T17:59:00.000-07:00

The cells of the heart begin to function as soon as they are differentiated from the others.
That cell --and any cell from your heart that can be separated out will beat all by itself.

The mystery remains --why is this so?
Why would a cell, the smallest possible representation of the object itself, function singly, and alone?

For it to be the first identifiable functional cell in the human body is fascinating, and the logic behind it is clear.

But for a cell to do it's job in seclusion from its (pardon the phrase) collective, is not so logical.

One could conclude that perhaps we, human beings, are all cells in the heart of God and taken singly can function. Except God has no such interdependent need of us. None whatsoever, never mind needing us to complete his most critical organ.

So what could the connection be?
In my opinion, it is grace. Bountiful grace.
God made His creation to be completely independent from Him. The blessing and the curse of free will. In order for the physical to be separate and be able to function without His interference, He made it operate from the first cell intended to become a heart.

Dream Dictionary

2009-09-01T06:09:00.000-07:00

Dream dictionarys espouse many different agendas. I searched many of them and found them wanting. However, I did settle on one that seemed to be in tune with my frame of references.
All of the interpretations of symbols are looked at from a spiritual point of view --not physical.

Its called Do You Dream? It may be out of print, but it is the best source I found and I looked at many, many of them in book stores and online.

I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to share my 'life-changing' dreams with you. There are few.

2009-08-29T08:31:00.001-07:00

The name David means Beloved of God.

Faith cannot be proven except through sacrifice

2009-08-25T06:09:00.000-07:00

Baha'u'llah's life and the lives of His followers and their martyrdom is the proof of Faith. There is no other proof. The same Spirit that Christ embodied is the one that Baha'u'llah housed. The personalities were different, the times were different, but the meaning, authority, and destiny empowered in Their words and lives came from the same Source. They both turn our direction from themselves to God.

A Bahai that trully believes what Baha'u'llah says and who He is, is also a believer in Jesus Christ. There is no denial of the station of Christ or of any of His words of wisdom and guidance.
By not becoming a member of a 'denomination' you are not denying Christ. You maintain a wider scope of inclusion by excluding none of the Messengers.

I have been coming across references to "the letter and the spirit of the law"...and thought about where the 'line' is. There are some lines that are obvious (at least to me) that we must try not to cross. There are some that require holding fast to the letter of the law.

I believe, it would be more fortuitous for you to abide by family wishes until such time as it is clear that another path is open to you. But, what I believe and what is truly right for you could be very different. "Abiding by family wishes" means of course, if your uncle's heart is breaking because he thinks your soul is eternally damned and needs saving, by all means ease his pain.

You also have books you can share with him while you are reading The Bible.

You need not, 'undeclare' to maintain harmony.

All that being said, don't use this quandry as an excuse to become distracted from your studies. Do what you must to bring quiet to your mind and focus on your education.
End of lecture.

This Is a Broken Winged Bird

2009-08-24T13:06:00.000-07:00

My flight is very slow. Assist me so that I may fly to the apex of prosperity and salvation
Wing my way with the utmost joy and happiness throughout the illimitable space. Raise my melody in Thy Supreme Name throughout all the regions, exhilerate the ears with this call and brighten the eyes by beholding the Signs of Thy Guidance.

O Lord! I am single, alone, and lowly for me there is no helper except Thee, no sustainer beside Thee, no support save Thee. Confirm me in Thy service, assist me with the cohorts of Thine angels, suffer me to speak out Thy wisdom amongst Thy creatures.

Verily, Thou art the helper of the poor and the defender of the little ones.
Verily, Thou are the Mighty, the Powerful, the Unconstrained.

The Sun Is Now In Virgo

2009-08-23T16:04:00.000-07:00

The Virgo month slips by faster than any other for some reason. When I was younger, I had a month of Virgo friends. Strange how we gravitated together and managed to tolerate each others idiosyncracies -- for the most part anyway.

A few of us have passed on, a few of us have moved and left no trace to be followed.

We used to have a party when the moon was full in Virgo -- usually when the sun was in Pisces.
And we would 'host' a huge Thanksgiving shindig for the extended circle of friends that included Capricorn, Aquarius, Scorpio, Libra, Leo, Taurus...

Let's see how quickly Virgo slips by this time.

Second Time Around

2009-08-20T14:46:00.000-07:00

Actually, since a body is said to have replaced it entire collection of cells every eight years --this is my 9th time around.

As my grandmother once said, when someone 'accused' her of being in her second childhood...
"I'm not done with the first one yet." And she was past her 10th time around. (70's)

So like many other things, most of which should not be discussed, it runs in the family to be emotionally underdeveloped. I was a special ed teacher for several years and still can't bring myself to use the term 'retarded' for any purpose. I did once, and it resonated in my brain in a wave of 'bad vibe' bouncing all through my self-image for a long, long, long, long time.

What, if anything in the entire universe stops at only 'second time' around? I only had two kids --but was pregnant three times and miscarried at least once after my second son. Re-gifting can send an item circulating for generations.

As I get used to this blogging...hopefully the messages will improve, but I won't promise.

My First time...

2009-08-20T06:56:00.000-07:00

Blogging that is.

Choosing a name was harder than I thought it would be. I wanted Bahai in it, and the rest was a search for an acceptable literation.

The butterfly is to some native Americans -- the symbol of eternal life. It is simple to create in art of painting, weaving, beading... two triangles with points touching ><>

Our writing group, is enthusiastic about meeting once a week.

There was a car show up here over the weekend.