Bit by Bit

After Christmas 2011

2012-01-23T22:59:00.000-06:00

Christmas with its razzle-dazzle of colored lights, music, family gatherings, and gift-giving has ended for another year, and spring is in the air. Ray and I actually saw robins four days ago on January 19 while walking in the park. They’re just passing through, but how I appreciate their taking the time to vacation a bit here in Central Texas! A robin’s song brings about a certain nostalgia for my roots in northern Illinois. And, when we returned home, I was lucky enough to hear that beautiful song from some distant woods across the street. How lovely it was!

Time to clean out gardens and add sand, manure, and mulch to the soil. The days are getting longer which means I can enjoy being outside that much more. I was able to do the above in our four landscaped timbered “gardens” facing the street on the next lot. There, I have planted a Dynamite Red crepe myrtle, two rosemary bushes and a purple lantana in each enclosure.

Then, several crepe myrtles, sage bushes, grow in front of the house with two Italian Cypress flanking the driveway. On each side of the house, I planted two Nellie Stephens hollies with Burford hollies extending across the front of the house. In between nestle several lantanas. I’ve already fertilized most of them in front and in back, so they’ll all welcome the good “food” as the rain we’re expected to receive in the next two days soaks the nutrients into their soil.

Ray is in the process of mulching the entire back yard in which I’ve planted many crepe myrtles and other shrubs. We still have to construct the patio and after that he has a huge project planned, the cedar fence around the perimeter of our property.

He has completed unpacking and getting his workshop all set up. I’ve even got a corner and table for my own doodlings! With all the windows in there, we’ll always have plenty of light for our work.

That’s all the news for now! Take care of yourselves!

Patricia

In the Holiday Midst

2011-12-04T22:36:00.004-06:00

This is my favorite time of the year and not just because my birthday and my son's birthday add something special to the season, falling one week before Thankgiving. There is Thanksgiving and Christmas, of course, with all our family present. Nothing, not career, skills, talents (some of which helped me through difficult times in my life) can compare to the joy of family. So, to prepare, perhaps in my giddiness, I actually baked thirteen pies this year. Yes, thirteen. It sounds a little goofy as though I just lost all semblance of good sense, but once I got started, well, it just went from there.

It all began with the apples. Once I saw those large, round and delectable looking Jonagolds piled high in the produce section of the grocery store at 77 cents per pound, I lost track of how many I SHOULD buy. They have the exactly right combination of sweetness and tartness that I look for in a pie apple. Granny Smiths are too sour and Red Delicious are too bland, and most of the rest of the apples fall in somewhere in between the two. But, Jonagolds are perfect, and I bought enough for six pies, not noticing (perhaps by design) that the beautifully rounded red spheres were three times as large as regular-sized apples. At home in the kitchen, once the peeling and coring began, I ended up with way more apples which necessitated way more dough for crust and the result? Thirteen pies.

I planned to freeze most of the pies and serve two at Thanksgiving, two at Christmas, one each for my three children, and then we would eat the extras for the next few months. And, if we had company, it would be nice to serve homemade apple pie with a large spoonful of frozen vanilla yogurt or a dollop of whipped topping.

To add to the holiday fun, our great grandson visited us for a week at Thanksgiving and in his seven year old eagerness, helped me decorate two Christmas trees, one for upstairs and one for downstairs. So, we rang in the holiday season as soon as we could.

Ray loves the holidays too, and I'm thankful for that. I knew someone previously who was depressed by Christmas which was very sad for him and for everyone around him. However, Ray and I are like two peas in a pod when it comes to family and festivities--we love indulging in it all, and we wish for you all a very, very joyful holiday full of love and good times!

Love, Patricia

Are You Ready to Try Something Different?

2011-07-22T22:31:00.008-05:00

Hi Everybody,

Don't you wish that humanity would figure out a way to co-exist? To live together in peace? To live in a world where pain is nonexistent?

Neale Donald Walsch's book The New Revelations: A Conversation With God addresses this topic, as well as other problems humans have struggled with since the dawn of the human race.

There are many common sense solutions that if implemented could change the way humans think about themselves and others, solutions that could change the world for the better. Read on, if you're interested in the future of the human race! (-:

The following is from The New Revelations:A Conversation With God by Neale Donald Walsch.

pp. 116-118

(God)
[T]here is nothing that I do want. And this is what you cannot understand or refuse to accept.

There is nothing that God wants or needs.

God demands nothing, commands nothing, requires nothing, compels nothing. Teach this in your seminaries and your madrasas.

God neither orders nor requests, insists nor expects, anything. Tell this to your young.

I am the Author of Everything. I am the Creator and the Created. There is nothing that is that I am not. I have no need to give orders to anyone.

To whom would I give orders? There is no one to command but Me. I am the All in All. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. And whom would I punish were my orders not kept? Would I use my right hand to slap my left? Would I bite my nose to spite my face?

Your teachers and your doctors of law, your priests and your ulamas, tell you that God is to be feared, for He is a vengeful God. You are to live in fear of God's wrath, they say. You are to tremble in His presence. Your whole life you are to fear the terrible judment of the Lord. For God is "just," you are told. And God knows, you will be in trouble when you confront the terrible justice of the Lord. You are, therefore, to be obedient to God's commands. Or else.

Most of you, therefore, spend much of your adult lives searching for the "right way" to worship God, to obey God, to serve God.  The irony of all this is that I do not want your worship. I do not need your obedience, and it is not necessary to serve me.

These behaviors are the behaviors historically demanded of their subjects by monarchs--egomaniacal, insecure, tyrannical monarchs at that. They are not Godly demands in any sense, and it seems remarkable that the world hasn't by now concluded that the demands are counterfeit, having nothing to do with the needs of Deity.

Deity has no needs. All That Is is exactly that: all that is.  It therefore wants, or lacks, nothing----by definition.

If you choose to believe in a God who somehow needs something--and has such hurt feelings if He doesn't get it that He punishes those from whom He expected to receive it--then you choose to believe in a God much smaller than I. You truly are Children of a Lesser God.

(Walsch)
Then you haven't given us "orders"?

(God)
No. It was human beings who felt they had to give human beings orders, in order to keep order. And the best way they knew how to get people to follow orders was to say that they came directly from God.

There were also those who sincerely believed that they were receiving directives from God about how life should be lived, and what they said that they received was passed on by others in good faith. Yet, this does not mean that what was passed on was always accurate, nor does it mean that the person who claims to have been the original recipient of these revelations was infallible.

(Walsch)
Any more than this book is infallible.

(God)
That is correct. That is exactly right. Any claim of infallibility for this book would be inaccurate.

(Walsch)
It would be inaccurate to say that this book is accurate.

(God)
Yes.

(Walsch)
So this book is accurate when it says that it is inaccurate.

(God)
That's clever, and that's another yes.

(Walsch)
So if it's inaccurate, why should I believe it?

(God)
You should not believe it. You should apply it and see what works.

Incidentally, put every other writing that claims to be a communication from God to the same test.

pp. 184-185
(God)
And so, you have imagined a God that separated humans from Him, because He was not happy with humans. This is what humans do to each other when they are not happy, and you have concluded that God would do the same.

This idea of The Great Separation created in you the experience of being separate from each other as well. I have already explained to you how this happened.

Human beings knew--they intuitively understood; they had a cellular memory of the fact--that they were one with all life. One with the Earth, and one with the creatures of the Earth. One with the sky, and one with everything in the sky. one with the divine, and part of that which is divine.

Then the stories of separation began. As I earlier explained, these stories arose out of humans' early experience. Religions codified that experience, transforming myth into dogma. The illusion of your separation was complete. Separation from God and separation from all life.

Modern religion has had a chance to break that illusion, to lead you to the truth. But modern religion has chosen to stick with the teachings of pre-modern times, to retain the dogma of hundreds and thousands of years ago. And so, modern religion has failed modern man.

If you are courageous, if you are very brave, you will allow a New Spirituality to enhance your religious experience. This spirituality will not reject outright your traditional religious teachings, but enlarge upon them and alter some of the teachings that you agree no longer apply or no longer function.

p. 186
(God)
You have accepted that you are Separate From God not because you have experienced that you are separate, but because you have been told that you are--by organized religion.

p. 222
(God)
It is not that humans do not want to live according to life's truest principles, it is simply that it is impossible for humans to do so when these basic principles are so clouded over by their beliefs that humans cannot even know what the principles are.

In short, human beings are trying to live the truth through beliefs that are false. In this, they have set themselves an impossible task. And that is why so much of life on your planet is not working.

Now please let me acknowledge here that some of your life on Earth is working. You have grown and evolved and become a grander version of humanity. You have learned from some of your mistakes, you have progressed in some ways, and you have become in some ways a magnificent species. And, as I said earlier, you have done this against all odds.

That is why it seems such a shame to see you making collective choices at this point in your development that could so drastically and negatively impact the life of your species as you know it--if not completely end it.

Those humans who understand deeply what is now going on see that the saddest part of all this is that so much could improve so quickly with a few simply changes in the things you choose to believe.

p. 283
(God)
Do not let a moment go by in which you have an opportunity to tell someone how magnificent they are. Do not let an opportunity pass in which you may offer praise. Give people the gift of self-esteem, and you will have given them a gift that many cannot find a way to give themselves. Yet when they find themselves through you, and return to their own most glorious vision and their own grandest idea of who they really are, they are lost no more, for you have returned them to themselves. Once they were lost, but now they are found.

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

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

I tell you this: You are an angel.
You are the angel for whom someone is waiting today.`

Walsch, Neale Donald. The New Revelations:A Conversation With God. Atria Books, New York, 2002.

Don't Forget to Say "Thank You, Thanks, I Appreciate You"

2011-03-30T21:48:00.002-05:00

Hi,

When we were children, we were taught to be courteous, and that meant saying "thank-you." However, I've discovered even more benefits from saying thanks!

One benefit that comes from being grateful is better health. I believe that if we thank our own cells for working so hard and diligently for us, we will have better overall health.

Left to its own devices, in most cases, the body heals itself.

Consciousness, within us and without, must be concerned for our welfare and as a result, want to work for our benefit. How might we encourage our cells? By thanking them every day, by talking to them and by telling them how much we appreciate them.

You might think they wouldn't "hear" us or "understand," but think about the intelligence in one cell and how it communicates with the intelligence in another cell in the body in order to keep the "machine" (our body) running. There has to be incredible cooperation among the cells to ensure that the overall organism (our body) thrives.

Our cells want to see us heal and thrive, and they want to ensure their own normal lifespan, as well. And when it is time for a cell to die, they will pass on the information needed for a new cell to carry on the work.

Stop and see if you can visualize them as they work. Send some loving thoughts to them. See them as healthy. And, thank them every day.

And, when we don't feel well, when we're sick, if we've been diagnosed with some serious illness, think about your cells working to stay healthy. See them as healthy and vibrant. This will encourage them and give them a boost. Stop what you're doing for a moment to say "Thanks, guys! I appreciate all your work and effort on my behalf very, very much. And, mean it when you say it!

And, while we're at it, let's thank that Consciousness, that Spirit, All That Is, God, Whomever or Whatever you want to call It-- for this huge blessing, for this healing spirit embedded within us.

That's all for today,

Much Love, Patricia

Garrison Keillor's essay on his (mild) stroke

2011-02-09T19:27:00.006-06:00

There are so many talented writers, many of whom I'd like to pattern my writing after, one of whom is Garrison Keillor, however. On such a serious subject as a stroke which Keillor suffered, he manages to describe the experience with some humor.

http://www.menshealth.com/health/garrison-keillor-stroke/page/2

Our Language

2011-02-09T18:59:00.001-06:00

Hello,

R. and I, in our continuing quest to keep our brains (retired from our professions but not retired from life!) as vital, healthy, and flexible as possible, have been working crossword puzzles for over three years now. It's amazing how the brain adapts to solving these puzzles because we work them much faster now than we did when we first started (We were considerably slower then). As English majors, we are fascinated by word origins (etymology) and word science (linguistics). So, we're reaping a huge benefit every time we consult the dictionary.

When I taught Composition II, I incorporated a chapter on "The History of English" which demonstrated the adaptability and constantly changing dynamics of the English language. New words are added every day, and we routinely use words that came from other languages (Latin--and the Romance languages, German, Greek, Native American, and African, just to name a few.

Patricia

The following paragraphs are found at the links below each.
---------------------------------

Where do new words come from? How do you figure out their histories?
Etymology
An etymology is the history of a linguistic form, such as a word; the same term is also used for the study of word histories. A dictionary etymology tells us what is known of an English word before it became the word entered in that dictionary. If the word was created in English, the etymology shows, to whatever extent is not already obvious from the shape of the word, what materials were used to form it. If the word was borrowed into English, the etymology traces the borrowing process backward from the point at which the word entered English to the earliest records of the ancestral language. Where it is relevant, an etymology notes words from other languages that are related ("akin") to the word in the dictionary entry, but that are not in the direct line of borrowing.

How new words are formed
An etymologist, a specialist in the study of etymology, must know a good deal about the history of English and also about the relationships of sound and meaning and their changes over time that underline the reconstruction of the Indo-European language family. Knowledge is also needed of the various processes by which words are created within Modern English; the most important processes are listed below.

Borrowing
A majority of the words used in English today are of foreign origin. English still derives much of its vocabulary from Latin and Greek, but we have also borrowed words from nearly all of the languages in Europe. In the modern period of linguistic acquisitiveness, English has found vocabulary opportunities even farther afield. From the period of the Renaissance voyages through the days when the sun never set upon the British Empire and up to the present, a steady stream of new words has flowed into the language to match the new objects and experiences English speakers have encountered all over the globe. Over 120 languages are on record as sources of present-day English vocabulary.

http://www.aolsvc.merriam-webster.aol.com/help/faq/etymology.htm

----------------------------------------
and

Word Origin - A View of World History
Word origin study is a fascinating way to discover the history of language and of a people. Learning where words in a language originated can tell us a lot about early influences on a society. Word origin in the English language, for example, indicates that this culture originated from many others. Many of our most commonly used words are Latin based, but come from countries as distinct as Italy, Spain and France. Their incorporation into our language is indicative of the exploration, invasion and emigration, reflecting world history on a large scale.

Word Origin - A View of Cultural Diversity
Word origin knowledge, according to Joseph T. Shipley, author of Dictionary of Word Origins (Littlefield, Adams & Co., 1967), is "to know how men think, how they have fashioned their civilization. Word history traces the path of human fellowship, the bridges from mend to mind, from nation to nation." Word origin can be inspired by influences as diverse as conquerors, commerce and cliques. Since the beginning of time, people have longed to search out unknown territories. Unfortunately, human nature and its lust for power caused many of those discoveries to lead to war in the desire for conquest and superiority.

Word Origin - A View of the Times
Word origin in America today shares its base with England, but has developed its own personality through its multicultural heritage. It's a topic that can fascinate students of history and students of language. Writers, in particular, find their skills enhanced by understanding the roots and national origins of words. Such knowledge enriches our ability to comprehend meaning, especially in reading classic literature from times past.

Because we are a people in flux, new words are being added to our menu choices almost daily. Some turn out to be "slang" that is temporary in nature, so it fades in time. Other terms become part of a culture's vernacular based on frequency of use as well as a change in that culture's way of life, such as many of the words and phrases connected to our current computer-based lifestyle. These words, such as "multi-tasking," "interfacing," and "online/offline," were either unknown or have enhanced their meanings in the last 20-30 years.

http://www.allabouthistory.org/word-origin.htm

About That Time

2010-11-17T19:37:00.003-06:00

The forecast is for a low of 38 degrees on Thursday evening, so I hauled several potted plants into the garden shed to protect them in case it drops even further: a banana plant, four Bird of Paradise, and four purple lantanas. Normally, they wouldn't be bothered by freezing temps, but since they're in pots, they're more vulnerable.

I haven't decided whether to put the other three banana plants inside or not since low temperatures can't hurt the bulbs, but since they're in pots, who knows how they might handle the frost? So, that'll be a job for tomorrow before R. and I go celebrate my birthday and my son's birthday (as I've always said...the best birthday present I've ever received) with our family.

There is an excitement which starts to build right around my birthday: One week to Thanksgiving and then a month until Christmas. I'm looking forward to the holidays with R. and with family.

I hope you all have a wonderful Thanksgiving!

Love, P.

Global PenFriends

2010-11-10T19:17:00.005-06:00

In September, I was happily surfing away online and happened upon a "Global PenFriends" site offering the opportunity to correspond with people all over the world. I began browsing amongst the neverending lists of correspondents (females within my age range, more or less) who lived all over the world and who had sent their short biographies in to the site.

Within a month, I found myself writing to three different PenFriends. Two live in New Zealand, and one lives in Australia. I didn't plan to limit my correspondence to people who lived in the Southern Hemisphere; it just happened that they were the ones who were interested in writing me. I did write to one lady in Russia but never heard back from her.

These women love to write, and usually with three to four days, they've answered my letter with a single spaced two to two-and-a-half page e-mail message. We all have a lot in common, I've found.

Among the things I've learned is that Australia has a female prime minister, Julia Gillard, and that Hilary Clinton has recently visited New Zealand. My friend wrote that as is the tradition, Mrs. Clinton was "challenged" by a group of Maoris with a powhiri ritual. She said she hoped Mrs. Clinton wasn't surprised (I think that's the word she used) by the powhiri. Well, I immediately looked up "powhiri" and found that it's a rather stern greeting by the Maoris to basically find out whether the visitor is "friend" or "foe." And, I reassured her that I was sure that not much would daunt Mrs. Clinton and that she probably enjoyed the experience! http://maaori.com/misc/powhiri.htm

I also learned that Secretary of State Clinton signed an agreement for closer relations with New Zealand, which I think is great.

http://www.defensenews.com/story.php?i=4996440&c=POL&s=TOP

It's interesting that at the time my NZ penfriend wrote and gave me this information, I hadn't heard or read one single thing about Hilary Clinton being in New Zealand, and I read our Austin American-Statesman and scan the New York Times every day. Also, I watch the news on television. (Then, just a couple of days ago, I saw an item on aol news online about an interview of Mrs. Clinton by some young people in New Zealand.)

It's also interesting that my penfriends are puzzled by the behavior of the tea-partiers and wonder why the "partiers" are so angry. They admire President Obama and feel much sympathy for him. They also talk with much gratitude about their own national health care system. So, in my letters, I try to explain our political system, and in return they fill me in on their country's customs, politics, etc.

My NZ correspondent told me that NZ is comprised of the North Island and South Island and that the movie Lord of the Rings was filmed in the mountainous South and that the section on the Hobbits was filmed in the North Island where she lives and where the country is flatter and more conducive to farming. It's also dairy country.

All in all, it's a wonderful way to find out about the world, especially since I've had to go to Wickipedia and to maps of New Zealand and Australia several times to increase my knowledge about their countries. I highly recommend it.

P.

The Q Effect Workshop

2010-07-24T19:54:00.002-05:00

July 24, 2010

R. and I attended a great workshop at church. It ran two hours yesterday evening and then all day today. Given by Gary Simmons and Rima Bonaria, it utilized the concept of quantum science to demonstrate how one can create wholeness and healing.

The two facilitators were open about incidents in their own lives and gave us many poignant examples to help us understand the concepts.

All this fits in perfectly with Eckhart Tolle’s works and Jane Roberts’ books on Seth who maintained first of all that we have the power to create our reality. From what has been discovered about the wave and the particle, it appears that physicists are now catching up with New Age/Ancient Wisdom philosophy. We have a workbook and 21 days to practice what we learned. (Click on above title.)

Thanks, Gary and Rima and Unity Church.

Our Summer of 2010

2010-07-24T19:11:00.000-05:00

What a great summer! We looked up from our busy-ness the other day and could hardly believe the end of the first week in July had arrived [This was written July 9, 2010]. A major reason the time has flown by is that we’ve had our six year-old ggrandson for the past six weeks (minus two weekends).

We had to return him to his parents this afternoon. )-: Sad for us, but happy for them.

Gosh, it’s quiet now! We’re used to having this energetic little person pop into our bedroom each morning to announce that he’s up and ready to use our bathroom and then ready for Pappy to start his “Batman” video!

Three weeks ago, we took him down to our local library for some Batman comics. We had called previously and were told they carried them in bound volumes on the shelves. Also, there were Batman videos. Libraries aren’t like they used to be! I remember when librarians looked with disdain upon Nancy Drew books, much less comic books. As a kid, I devoured comics whenever I could get my hands on them. My mother would take us to visit our cousins, and I would find their stack of comics and sit and read until I’d finished the complete pile.

Pappy read E. some comics each night before bedtime, and E. would watch two or three Batman videos in the morning before breakfast. Between E. and Pappy, they carefully measured out all the videos so that he’d see them all before he had to go home.

Some time ago, I’d gotten him started reading our large volume of combined “Dick and Jane” stories. Today, he actually went on his own to his bedroom to get the book before we took him home . He wanted to read some more out loud. By the time, we met his Mom, he had read ¾ of the book, so I feel confident about his reading ability when he enters 1st grade in August. He had learned a lot as well from his kindergarten school work.

A day or so after he first arrived, we opened our front door one morning to see a turtle right outside the door, looking as though he wanted in. I took Mr. T. out to the back yard where we now see him or her occasionally. (We have a certified official backyard habitat.) From that point on, E. wanted me to “google up” as many turtles and sea creatures as I could find on the internet. Oh, and that was the second turtle to whom we’ve provided accommodations. A couple of years ago we rescued one off the street, let him live in our back yard over the winter and then returned him to the woods in the spring. Hmmm…turtles and elephants are my token animals, so who knows what’s going on and who’s going to turn up next? (-:

Two days ago, we took E. to the beach at a local lake. While we were in the water, a very large turtle poked her head above water and watched us for while. E. would have paddled straight for shore, but I reassured him the turtle was more afraid of us, so we splashed and paddled until a dark and ominous cloud accompanied by a much cooler breeze appeared, and I decided we’d better call it a day for swimming.

The first two weeks in June we took E. down to the local park and pool for swimming lessons. He really loved that, especially since after the lesson, he could go over to play at the water park with the myriad shapes and sizes of water jets and then go with Pappy to get chocolate covered doughnuts with sprinkles. Hey, Pappy liked that, too!

In addition to going swimming several times (once at Jim’s pool over the 4th of July), we all, for the first time ever, rode the light rail coming back from downtown Austin. It’s an hour’s trip each way. We took the bus downtown since the light rail left our local station so early in the morning. (The first time, my husband drove us downtown, and he drove back while we rode the train.) E. loved riding the bus and the train, and we saw deer and wild turkeys along the route coming back both times we rode.

While downtown, “Extreme Pita” located right off 6th and Congress became our favorite place to lunch. E. could get pita with cheese which looked and tasted just like a cheese pizza, his favorite kind.

This last visit downtown, rain poured down on us as we left the restaurant. Luckily, we had taken two umbrellas which still weren’t enough. E. had his own, and Pappy and I had to share, resulting in our getting soaked by the time we walked several blocks to the train station. But, it was fun!

On the 4th, Jim sent some sparklers home with E., and we lit two per night for several nights. He talked about the sparklers with much anticipation during the day and mentioned how “exciting” they were.

In between all of this activity, he and I played numerous games of “Authors,” checkers, and Chinese checkers, as well as baseball outside and basketball inside. E. has learned the names of Longfellow, Thackeray, Hawthorne, Twain, Cooper, Tennyson, Alcott, Poe, Dickens, Shakespeare and others since we began playing “Authors.”

I found several great online children’ sites where he played games: Nick at Night Kids and PBS kids. Many of them teach as well as entertain.

On television, he watched PBS programs during the day, and I marveled at those imaginative people who have designed such creative ways to teach children. I never thought anyone could improve on the teaching methods of the early Sesame Street programs.

He rode his scooter, and whizzing down the hill now, he has really improved his balance since the last time he was here. The scooter will carry us, as well, so we just pull up the handle and ride it, especially if he is too tired to lug it up the hill on the way back.

He brought his Wii with him and we set it up in our den, so he bounced around a lot, “playing” football, throwing passes, managing interceptions and having a great time. Then, if he were particularly excited about a certain play, he’d come and have us watch while he hit the “replay” button.

Several times, we’d go out into the yard with his bat, and I’d pitch him balls. He would have stayed out for hours in the heat, so I had to limit how many balls I would pitch, and he was agreeable to that. After he hit them, he’d run and get the balls, which suited me fine!

He helped me pick patio and grape tomatoes from the vines and also helped scrub potatoes for potato salad to take to Jim’s.

E. is at the age where he makes “jokes” that really aren’t, but I guess that he has to go through this stage to get to where he makes connections that are actually funny. The latest thing now is telling one or the other of us that a spider is in the bathroom or his Mom is driving up, or whatever and then saying when we respond, “Gotcha!” So, we laughingly gave him back in kind.

This past six weeks, E. and Pappy became closer, and many times he wanted to do things with Pappy rather than me, which I think was good. He also wanted to do everything Pappy did, such as lying upside down on the inversion table each morning to improve the back (it also helps with the circulation). So, Ray slid the feet up on the table to fit a six year old and they both were upside down for several minutes each morning.

Over the past weeks, my husband has mentioned often how much joy E. gives us and also the possibility that E. may be the only grandson he will ever have, so he’s thankful we have him in our lives.

So now, as we return his little table and chair (where he sometimes sits to eat while watching his favorite tv show) up to his bedroom, as I return the rubber ducks to the bathroom closet (he’s abandoned these in favor of playing with a flexible power ranger in his bath), as I remove said power ranger hanging by the arm from the shower hose and stash it away with the ducks, as I contemplate with sadness throwing out the ducks and then realize how much I want to hang on to his baby and toddler-hood, as I return the myriad balls—nerf and others—to his closet, as I break the balloons (they’ll deflate by the time we next see him, anyway) he batted and kicked back and forth in the upstairs den, using them as soccer balls, as I return three of his “Hot Wheels”(a cherry red pickup, a blue stripped-down hotrod, and an orange racing car complete with stripe) to his room, as I empty out the remaining canned chicken and noodles which I “doctored” for his lunch yesterday with my homemade vegetable soup-- as I do all these things, I also realize how much he missed his parents and how happy he was to see them, and I’m very thankful that he has a great family life.

But, there was an inordinate amount of laughing and joking during the past six weeks, and we feel blessed to have had E. that long. We cemented even stronger, a loving and close relationship that we’ve enjoyed with him since the day he was born. Thanks, K. and B.

Love,
P.

A Thoughtful Perspective by David Brooks

2010-07-09T13:56:00.004-05:00

Hello,

My husband and I are daily computer-users, to check e-mail, do research, and to surf for fun. We are retired and have the luxury of extra time. And, we do believe the internet is a tremendous place to learn and to discover.

However, David Brooks believes that reading books can teach something that the internet can't. I believe he has an excellent point. Click on the title above for his article.

See Ya'
P.

Eckhart Tolle, One of My Teachers

2010-05-29T13:30:00.013-05:00

Hello,
I've written in previous postings about my spiritual journey into awareness, so it's probably "old hat" to most of you. I have also posted a version of my story on my other blog---www.meditationhealingcd.net. However, I want to add some other thoughts that have occurred to me, partly to introduce Eckhart Tolle's experience, which follows my account.

My beginning transformation into awareness/enlightenment (and I say "beginning" because I still have a long way to go) probably began much earlier than I now realize. Even though as a child I carried tremendous burdens of anxiety and fear, I still had great sympathy for people and animals who were suffering.

I had a narrower focus on what constituted suffering, though, for in my childish mind, those who suffered from lack of food and shelter were all I could imagine at the time. I never dreamed of the varying degrees of exquisite pain this world routinely bestows upon souls in physical form.

However, along the pathway of life, all these influences, feelings, experiences, and perceptions add up to form our very core.

Eckhart Tolle's experience follows:

Here is his story:
---------------------------------------------------------

From Eckhart Tolle's The Power of Now: A Guide to Spiritual Enlightenment, Author's Preface to the Paperback Edition, xiii

Introduction, 3 -- "The Origin of This Book"

I have little use for the past and rarely think about it; however, I would briefly like to tell you how I came to be a spiritual teacher and how this book came into existence.

Until my thirtieth year, I lived in a state of almost continuous anxiety interspersed with periods of suicidal depression. It feels now as if I am talking about some past lifetime or somebody else's life.

One night not long after my twenty-ninth birthday, I woke up in the early hours with a feeling of absolute dread. I had woken up with such a feeling many times before, but this time it was more intense than it had ever been. The silence of the night, the vague outlines of the furniture in the dark room, the distant noise of a passing train--everything felt so alien, so hostile, and so utterly meaningless that it created in me a deep loathing of the world. The most loathsome thing of all, however, was my own existence. What was the point in continuing to live with this burden of misery? Why carry on with this continuous struggle? I could feel that a deep longing for annihilation, for nonexistence, was now becoming much stronger than the instinctive desire to continue to live.

"I cannot live with myself any longer." This was the thought that kept repeting itself in my mind. Then suddenly I became aware of what a peculiar thought it was. "Am I one or two? If I cannot live with myself, there must be two of me: the 'I' and the 'self' that 'I' cannot live with." "Maybe," I thought, "only one of them is real."

I was so stunned by this strange realization that my mind stopped. I was fully conscious, but there were no more thoughts. Then I felt drawn into what seemed like a vortex of energy. It was a slow movement at first and then accelerated. I was gtripped by an intense fear and my body started to shake. I heard the words, "resist nothing," as if spoken inside my chest. I could feel myself being sucked into a void. It felt as if the void was inside myself rather than outside. Suddenly there was no more fear, and I let myself fall into that void. I have no recollection of what happened after that.

I was awakened by the chirping of a bird outside the window. I had never heard such a sound before. My eyes were still closed, and I saw the image of a precious diamond. Yes, if a diamond could make a sound, this is what it would be like. I opened my eyes. The first light of dawn was filtering through the curtains. Without any thought, I felt, I knew, that there is infinitely more to light than we realize. That soft luminosity filtering through the curtains was love itself. Tears came into my eyes. I got up and walked around the room. I recognized the room, and yet I knew that I had never truly seen it before. Everything was fresh and pristine, as if it had just come into existence. I picked up things, a pencil, an empty bottle, marveling at the beauty and aliveness of it all.

That day I walked around the city in utter amazement at the miracle of life on earth, as if I had just been born into this world.

For the next five months, I lived in a state of uninterrupted deep peace and bliss. After that, it diminished somewhat in intensity, or perhaps it just seemed to because it became my natural state. I could still function in the world, although I realized that nothing I ever did could possibly add anything to what I already had.

I knew, of course, that something profoundly significant had happened to me, but I didn't understand it at all. It wasn't until several years later, after I had read spiritual texts and spent time with spiritual teachers, that I realized that what everybody was looking for had already happened to me. I understood that the intense pressure of suffering that night must have forced my consciousness to withdraw from its identification with the unhappy and deeply fearful self, which is ultimately a fiction of the mind. This withdrawal must have been so complete that this false, suffering self immediately collapsed, just as if a plug had been pulled out of an inflatable toy. What was left then was my true nature as the ever-present I am: consciousness in its pure state prior to identification with form. Later I also learned to go into that inner timeless and deathless realm that I had originally perceived as a void and remain fully conscious. I dwelt in states of such indescribable bliss and sacredness that even the original experience I just described pales in comparision. A time came when, for a while, I was left with nothing on the physical plane. I had no relationships, no job, no home, no socially defined identity. I spent almost two years sitting on park benches in a state of the most intense joy.

But even the most beautiful experiences come and go. More fundamental, perhaps, than any experience is the undercurrent of peace that has never left me since then. Sometimes it is very strong, almost palpable, and others can feel it too. At other times, it is somewhere in the background, like a distant melody.

Later, people would occasionally come up to me and say: "I want what you have. Can you give it to me, or show me how to get it?" And I would say: "You have it already. You just can't feel it because your mind is making too much noise." That answer later grew into the book that you are holding in your hands.

Before I knew it, I had an external identity again. I had become a spiritual teacher

Eckhart Tolle

Eckhart Tolle Interview

2010-05-29T13:14:00.001-05:00

John Parkman's interview with Eckhart Tolle

(Question) Surrendering to "what is" or "the Now*' seems to be an important aspect of your teaching. Is there a distinction between "surrendering to what is," and the use of the popular cliché, "go with the flow of life, where ever it takes us"?

(Answer) Surrendering only refers to this moment, whatever "is" at this moment—to accept unconditionally and fully whatever arises at this moment. "Going with the flow" is a more general term. For some people it is an excuse for not taking action and it refers usually to one's life situation. Let's say you are in a particular job and that is the flow, you stay in it.Surrender is only in reference to Now. So "going with the flow" is not necessarily true surrender and may lead to passivity, lethargy and inaction. Surrender to the Now is something very different because it only concerns accepting the reality of this moment. Whatever action is needed will then rise out of that state of complete acceptance. The most powerful state for a human to be in is the state of embracing completely the reality of what is—Now. It is to say "Yes" to life, which is now and always now. There is a vast power in that "Yes," that state of inner non-resistance to what is. Action arises out of that if it's needed, as a spontaneous response to the situation.So surrender to Now never leads to inaction because it only concerns the reality of this moment and perhaps action is needed. In the book I give the example of being stuck in the mud. So you wouldn't say, "O.K., I surrender to this and I'm going to stay here." It simply means, "it is;" there is a recognition of "it is" and to saying yes to "it is." And there's much greater power now that arises that will move through you and manifest as action if it is needed than there could ever be in the state of saying, "no" to "what is"—and then perhaps taking action that is always contaminated with negativity. Whenever you say "no" and then action arises because you are fighting "what is" that is karmic action in Eastern terms, and it leads to further suffering because it arises out of suffering, which is the non-acceptance of "what is"—suffering. Action arising out of suffering is contaminated with suffering and causes further suffering, and that is karma. Action that arises out of a state of “acceptance" is totally free of karma. And there is a vast difference.

Parkman, John. W. Dialogues With Emerging Spiritual Teachers (Interview with Eckhart Tolle). Fort Collins, Colorado: Sagewood Press, 2000.

The Month of April

2010-04-25T22:21:00.002-05:00

Hello,

I can’t believe we have less than a week left in April. The days seemed to be on some kind of fast moving treadmill, as they quickly came and went. Maybe we didn’t notice because the weather was so beautiful, My granddaughter's and great grandson's birthdays are both in April, we were energized with our decision to put our house back into the hands of a realtor, and all the other happy things that happened during the month… that made time fly.

This past Saturday afternoon, we attended my great grandson's birthday party at a place called “Pump it Up.” Actually, I did because my husband sat in the car with our little dog Rosie for a good part of the time I was inside. We couldn’t leave her home because a realtor was showing our house. (But, my husband had a quieter and calmer time, actually, reading and snoozing)!

Twelve of Ethan's classmates attended the party, and everybody had a great time (as though we couldn’t tell—with all the screaming and running around)!

Pump It Up is in the business of providing entertainment for children’s birthday parties. The rooms are about three stories high. They have to be that big for the inflatable equipment: slides, trampoline-type enclosures, and other fun things for little ones.

After everyone arrived, we all sat in the lobby for fifteen minutes while we were shown a video telling the children what they can and cannot do (no roughhousing, no more than six at a time on one jumping “thing,” no more than two on another, as well as other instructions). Then, after they show the video, there is a little quiz to see if the kids remembered what they were shown, and to my amazement, they did. They answered the questions correctly, hollering “no,” “six,” “two,” and so on.

Then, we were all shown into one gigantic room, and everybody jumped, played and screamed for the first thirty/forty minutes or so. After that, all were moved to another gigantic room with different types of “jumping playthings” for about a half hour or so. Then, the final move is to the “party room” where everybody enjoyed pizza and birthday cake.

Ethan got to sit on a giant inflatable “throne” with a cardboard cutout crown on his head and “reign.” That meant trying to holler above all the other kids! He ate his pizza and cake and opened up his presents there as well, to the shouts of everybody as they crowded around him, trying to see what he unwrapped. The adults chatted, some munched on pizza, and some took photos.

Finally, the two hours and fifteen minutes were up, and everybody filed out, tired but happy (the kids because they had a great time and I because it was time to leave!)

My daughter and her fiance were there from Dallas (He is now on tour with Bon Jovi as an electrician), other adult friends were there, my other daughter from Waco, plus assorted moms and dads and grandparents of the little birthday guy's classmates.

My son and daughter-in-law have been in Hawaii the past week, working at the company convention. I hope they got some time off to do some sight-seeing.

“Talk” to you later.

Love, P.

Easter Sunday, 2010

2010-04-04T00:37:00.002-05:00

Happy Easter!

I hope you all are having a wonderful weekend and that you have an enjoyable and relaxing Easter Sunday!

Ray and I worked all day and well into the evening, preparing Easter dinner for our family tomorrow. All I'll have to do is prepare the tossed salad, set the table, and heat up the grilled chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy, and rolls before everyone arrives.

I've got Easter egg dye for the boys to color eggs and also some delectable little Lindt chocolate rabbits for them.

Ray and I will "catch" the 9:30 a.m. service tomorrow and be home in time to have everything ready. Steve Bolen, our wonderful minister, really has his work cut out for him. He has a sunrise service, then the 9:30 and then the 11:30 service. He'll handle it all with his usual finesse. We always look forward to his messages, given with a sense of drama, flair, wisdom, and much, much humor. Thanks again, Steve!

I boiled enough eggs so that there will be plenty left over for egg salad next week! Oh, and what lovely Easter weather: a perfect 80-82 degrees tomorrow.

Thank you, God, for loved ones and all the rest!

Love, P.

Thank

Some Important Reads

2010-03-11T22:55:00.004-06:00

Hello,
I just attended a workshop at our Unity Church in Austin this past weekend. It was given by Gary R. Renard who has written The Disappearance of the Universe (first published by Fearless Books in 2003 and subsequently by Hay House) and Your Immortal Life (published by Hay House in 2006). His website:
http://www.garyrenard.com/

His books are based on A Course in Miracles, 3rd ed., (a combined text) an increasingly popular book and method of attaining oneness-- by Dr. Helen Schucman (first published as three volumes in 1976 by the Foundation for Inner Peace).

In his books, Renard uses the principles of the Course (which might be difficult to understand at times) to explain in simpler terms how to attain oneness with God so that souls don’t have to keep reincarnating lifetime after lifetime.

Typically, reincarnation seems to work this way: If we believe in the illusion that we call our “reality” and let our egos run our lives, we experience a mix of good and bad times in this physical existence. No one experiences all easy lives or all difficult lives because no one would learn that way.

And, most people decide at the soul level before being born into their current lives how to really “work” on these challenges, so they sometimes deliberately opt (on an unconscious level, of course) for difficult physical lives such as being raised by abusive parents or living with a controlling and difficult spouse, or--more positively--in a perhaps less difficult situation where they can help another person who is working on a challenge. And, of course, there are all kinds of combinations of physical existences in between.

In other words, people between their physical lives (before being born) plan on working out problems such as a need to control others, perhaps selfishness, anger, anxiety and worry, whatever they are. We choose (as souls) those experiences in to help us (in our physical lifetimes) deal with any obstacles standing in our way of oneness with God.

And, once we’re in physical form, if our egos insist on running our lives so that we don’t take the opportunities presented to deal with our challenges, then we must face the same situation again in another life. Sometimes we need exaggerated situations where we simply can’t take any more challenges. At that point, we may be finally willing to do whatever is necessary to help ourselves progress, no matter what our egos say.

After some particularly difficult times, a person’s response might be: “Okay, God. I’ve had enough! Please help me out of this mess. Help me change myself and find peace and joy. There must be a better way. My life has been a string of events where it seems I’m always knocking my head against a brick wall. I’m surrendering to your Will and your good sense. Please help me.” Or, someone else’s typical words might be: “I’ve gotten this illness and it doesn’t look good. Please help me change whatever brought me this illness so that I may heal. Or, please help me recognize the worth of myself and others before I leave this lifetime.” Of course, our egos don’t like these conversations because the more we think like this, the more power our egos lose over us. And, egos definitely want to remain in charge!

Typical responses to challenges by our egos might sound like the following:

It’s not really my fault. It’s someone else’s fault.
What will people think if I read those kinds of books, or socialize with those kinds of people?
What will people think if I meditate?
What will people think if I drive an old car or wear unfashionable clothes?
I can’t help myself because it’s the way I was raised.
I’ve always been this way, and I don’t really want to change anything.
I’ll take my chances.
I can do it myself.
I’ll just tell myself to get over certain things, and it’ll happen, sooner or later.
Why should I help him (or her)?
He (or she) never will amount to anything.
I will never amount to anything.
I wish I were a better person.

The funny thing is that many of us won’t really change until we absolutely have to--which in my own case, involved a life-threatening illness. It seems that some human beings just like to do things the hard way rather than surrender to and ask for help from our Creator and then get to work. Actually, I had to experience not only the initial diagnosis but a reoccurrence the following year before I really “woke up.”

However, some people do wake up and realize the importance of changing in order to find enlightenment and experience a more peaceful life. They may even realize how they have to change and what they have to do to change. And, then some people may even begin to search for information on how to accomplish this.

These people who choose to search for both information and/or a wise teacher may then find out that they could be helped by spending the rest of their lives practicing regular meditation, forgiveness, love and compassion—practical application, you might call it. Then, there might be some people who will actually have the will and desire to do the work that needs to be done to accomplish this.

Spiritual teachers, Unity ministers, and others walking the spiritual path talk of two emotions upon which all others are based: fear and love. For instance, judging others, judging ourselves, having perfectionist tendencies and criticizing others, worrying about what others think, feeling shame, anxiety, guilt, anger, jealously, vindictiveness, greed, harming others either emotionally or physically-- are all based on fear.

Through meditation, people will understand that when they become still and listen to what is inside their hearts, they will be more able to release these negative emotions.

And, so the play goes on: we keep returning to live life after life for sometimes literally a thousand lifetimes. In some lifetimes we learn much; in some we don’t. Our “work” in each lifetime is to choose some characteristic we want to release, or some quality we wish to attain and then make that happen so that we become loving souls full of peace, joy, love and creativity.

A Course in Miracles teaches that we are actually perfect and sinless human beings/souls, and the Course has a major method, unlike some other traditions, to help us actually “speed up” the reincarnation process and not have to return for so many lives. I’ll get to that in just a bit.

First though, the Course teaches that God is compassionate and perfect, not vengeful and/or cruel, and that as part of God, we are no different. The big joke (that’s how I think of it, now) is that we have deluded ourselves with our illusions of this physical life which we’ve chosen to call our “reality.” We think we are living in a “real” world and that everything is form, but in reality, we are all spirit, connected to one another and to God. As an illustration of this concept, you might read Jill Bolte Taylor’s Book, My Stroke of Insight, and you’ll see what she “saw” while undergoing a massive stroke. Her website is:
http://www.drjilltaylor.com/

I don’t look forward to living more lives after this one, but I probably will have to, and if I do, that’s okay! I can’t tell you about other lifetimes I’ve had, but I’m surely trying in this one, like many others, to put into practice many of the above methods for attaining oneness with God.

Okay, the following is very important:

A Course in Miracles, teaches that the most efficient way, the quickest way to achieve the goal of oneness with God is to practice forgiveness-- forgiveness in everyday relationships whether at home, at work, in other settings--forgiveness toward strangers, toward national and international figures, forgiveness of other nations-- and forgiveness of ourselves for our own thoughts and actions. This helps us to dissolve the ego, to loosen its power over us because the ego strives mightily to hold on to the feelings of separation from God and other beings.

Every time we feel sad, angry, jealous, fearful, anxious, or whatever, it is our egos telling us we have to fall back (or depend) on these feelings in order to protect ourselves. So, in a nutshell, our egos struggle and battle against our learning the truth which is that we are one with God, that this physical life is all an illusion, and that we are perfect, holy, and without sin.

Even though we may not feel the guilt and the need to forgive in this lifetime, we actually have residual guilt which we carry over from lifetime to lifetime-- in addition to adding to it in each reincarnation (Darn!). But, carrying around a load (or two, or three) of guilt within our subconscious is as much of an attack upon ourselves as physically hurting another human being. And, how many us berate, criticize, shame, and hurt ourselves, whether it be through our actions or our thoughts while we are residing in these physical bodies.

Much of our guilt is unconscious, so it may be difficult to recognize.

However, the more successful we are in making forgiveness a way of life every second, minute and hour of the day, the more the Holy Spirit takes over and assists us even further, and then—Hallelujah!--the sooner we’ll be able to stop reincarnating. That sounds wonderful to me! Our own Unity Church has several Course study groups. But, for some of us, it’s a little difficult to grasp the concepts. That’s where Renard’s books really help because the concepts of the Course are easier to understand. I strongly recommend all of the above texts.

Love, P.

New Friends and a new Sienna

2010-02-25T21:09:00.008-06:00

Two days ago, my husband and I, tired from traveling and meeting with people for most of the day, were returning south on I-35 to our home.

A few days earlier, we had received notification in the mail from the dealership from which we had bought our present (and five-year-old) Sienna. Toyota was offering huge discounts off new vehicles (due to their current problems with recalls and senate hearings and all), and we were still discussing the practical aspects of a purchase, toying with the thought for a couple of days, but also realizing the freedom we felt with no monthly car payment.

As we were approaching another Toyota dealership near a small town on I-35, we decided to pull off and stop by JUST to see what kind of a deal we could get on a new Sienna. I might add that we had planned to keep our current Sienna for a few more years because it was in perfect condition.

However, our informational search ended up with our spending probably two hours there(and this doesn't count the two and one-half hours we were there two days later completing final arrangements and paperwork before we could drive our new Sienna off the lot)!

On the first visit, we had Rosie, our little Chihuahua we had rescued half-starved and off the street back in November, and the guys all made a fuss over her. One sales rep I'll call Tom, had a beloved Chihuahua which he had inherited from his mother when she passed away. His niece had a Chihuahua puppy and was in the process of potty-training it, but the tiny dog wouldn't go outside when the temperature was so cold! Tom told us that when we had the record snowfall a couple of days previous, he actually went out and cleared a small place of snow for the puppy!

Another rep was an animal lover and spent several minutes petting and talking to Rosie. The finance officer, also an animal lover I'll call Cary, had pictures of his three dogs (pit bull mixes--but he said they were gentle and loving)on his computer screen. So, we all swapped pet stories.

Then, through further conversation, we discovered that Tom had been doing some electrical work at the local college back on 9-11-01. Ray and I just happened to still be teaching there at that time (before we both retired), and we talked about the shock of seeing the twin towers destroyed, how we cancelled our classes, and how everyone hovered around the television set in the media room to follow the devastation.

Later, after we came to an agreement on price, Cary prepared the endless piles of papers to be signed, and we talked about music. We found out that he was quite an accomplished French horn player who sometimes subbed with the local symphony when it performed at the college; furthermore, we knew many of the same people with whom he came into contact. He had attended North Texas State and on occasion, had sat in with the famed One O'Clock Jazz Band.

During the hour or so we sat and conversed with him, he spoke animatedly and enthusiastically about music, even showing us a couple of U-Tube videos of two of his favorite horn players. Also, he used many musical terms that were completely unknown to us(I'd known people who had majored in music at North Texas State previously, and they did the same thing!). Though we didn't have the formal training in music he had, it still was fun to listen to him talk. And, I couldn't help wishing he could make a living playing the horn because it was obvious that that was his passion.

So, all in all, in the five and one-half hours spent at the dealership, not only did we end up with a new Sienna (and a heckuva deal), but we enjoyed our conversations, as well! Ya never know what's going to happen when you pull off I-35!

Love, P.

p.s. This is NOT an ad for Toyota, but we do love them.

In Memory of Kathryn Grayson who left us on February 17, 2010 at the age of 88.

2010-02-18T20:00:00.009-06:00

When my brother, sister, and I were very young, my parents took us to movies whenever they went, which was at least once a week. They only went to movies they enjoyed, so I remember very well, in addition to actors like Gary Cooper, Gene Tierney, John Wayne, Barbara Stanwyck, Randolph Scott, Alan Ladd and others, all the great MGM movie musical stars of the 1940s and 1950s. In my childish eyes, I imagined myself singing and dancing on the stage just like my favorite actors. These movies were instrumental in giving me a lifelong appreciation for all kinds of music.

Kathryn Grayson's beauty and lovely soprano voice were mesmerizing. I loved the wonderful Jerome Kern songs in Showboat (1951)such as "Make Believe" (couldn't find it, though), and others in duets with Howard Keel. I've added a couple of sites under "Favorite Links" on the left side of the screen so you could listen to her fabulous voice. Enjoy!

Love, P.

A Special Reason to Give

2010-02-04T12:09:00.005-06:00

Please click on the title above to see the video that was shown on the "Oprah" show.

Nicholas Kristoff's article in the February 4, 2010 issue of New York Times which explains about a very special woman who is helping women in the Congo is copied and pasted below.

Thank you,

Love, Patricia
----------------------------
From ‘Oprah’ to Building a Sisterhood in Congo
By NICHOLAS D. KRISTOF
BUKAVU, Congo

Five years ago, Lisa Shannon watched “Oprah” and learned about the savage, forgotten war here in eastern Congo, played out in massacres and mass rape. That show transformed Lisa’s life, costing her a good business, a beloved fiancé, and a comfortable home in Portland, Ore. — but giving her a chance to save lives in Congo.

I found myself stepping with Lisa into a shack here. It was night, there was no electricity, and a tropical rainstorm was turning the shantytown into a field of mud and streams. Lisa had come to visit a woman she calls her sister, Generose Namburho, a 40-year-old nurse.

Generose’s story is numbingly familiar: extremist Hutu militiamen invaded her home one night, killed her husband and prepared to rape her. Then, because she shouted in an attempt to warn her neighbors, they hacked off her leg above the knee with a machete.

As Generose lay bleeding near her husband’s corpse, the soldiers cut up the amputated leg, cooked the pieces on the kitchen fire, and ordered her children to eat their mother’s flesh. One son, a 12-year-old, refused. “If you kill me, kill me,” he told the soldiers, as his mother remembers it. “But I will not eat a part of my mother.”

So they shot him dead. The murder is one of Generose’s last memories before she blacked out, waking up days later in the hospital where she had worked.

That’s where Lisa enters the story. After seeing the Oprah show on the Congo war, Lisa began to read more about it, learning that it is the most lethal conflict since World War II. More than five million had already died as of the last peer-reviewed mortality estimate in 2007.

Everybody told her that the atrocities continued because nobody cared. Lisa, who is now 34, was appalled and decided to show that she cared. She asked friends to sponsor her for a solo 30-mile fund-raising run for Congolese women.

That led her to establish Run for Congo Women, which has held fund-raising runs in 10 American states and three foreign countries. The money goes to support sponsorships of Congolese women through a group called Women for Women International.

But in her passion, Lisa neglected the stock photo business that she and her fiancé ran together. Finally, he signaled to her that she had to choose — and she chose Congo.

One of the Congolese women (“sisters”) whom Lisa sponsored with her fund-raising was Generose. Lisa’s letters and monthly checks of $27 began arriving just in time.

“God sent me Lisa to release me,” Generose told me fervently, as the rain pounded the roof, and she then compared Lisa to an angel and to Jesus Christ.

Scrunching up in embarrassment in the darkened room, Lisa fended off deification. She noted that many impoverished Congolese families have taken in orphans. “They’ve lost everything,” she said, “but they take children in when they can’t even feed their own properly. I’ve been so inspired by them. I’ve tried to restructure my life to emulate them.”

It’s true. While for years world leaders have mostly looked the other way, while our friend Rwanda has helped perpetuate this war, while Congo’s president has refused to arrest a general wanted by the International Criminal Court, while global companies have accepted tin, coltan and other minerals produced by warlords — amid all this irresponsibility, many ordinary Congolese have stepped forward to share the nothing they have with their neighbors.

So Lisa is right that Generose and so many others here are awe-inspiring. Lisa tells her story in a moving book, “A Thousand Sisters,” that is set to be published in April. Congo is now her obsession, and she is volunteering full time on the cause as she lives off the declining royalties from her old stock photos.

She earns psychic pay when she sees a woman here who named her daughter Lisa. After we visited Congolese Lisa, I asked American Lisa about the toll of her Congo obsession — the lost business, man and home they had shared.

“Technically, I had a good life before, but I wasn’t very happy,” she mused. “Now I feel I have much more of a sense of meaning.”

Maybe that’s why I gravitate toward Lisa’s story. In a land where so many “responsible” leaders eschew responsibility, Lisa has gone out of her way to assume responsibility and try to make a difference. Along with an unbelievable cast of plucky Congolese survivors such as Generose, she evokes hope.

On this visit to Congo, Lisa is organizing a Run for Congo Women right here in Bukavu, for Feb. 28, with Congolese rape survivors participating. You can sponsor them at www.runforCongowomen.org. And one of those participating in the run, hobbling along on crutches and her one leg, will be Generose.

•

I invite you to visit my blog, On the Ground. Please also join me on Facebook, watch my YouTube videos and follow me on Twitter.

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/02/04/opinion/04kristof.html?th&emc=th

Seasons

2010-02-01T20:25:00.008-06:00

Here it is February 1, 2010!

In 1975, the year "1980" had such a "futuristic" sound, as though in in the next five years, cars would be traveling on elevated highways and robots would vacuum and dust our houses for us, and here it is 2010! Musing on the date today, I remembered my Uncle Bob's birthday fell on February 2, and of course, my oldest daughter's (Nancy) birthday is on February 13. In Illinois, when she was born, we still celebrated Abraham Lincoln's birthday on February 12, so I wondered if she would make her arrival on his birthday or Valentine's Day. Surprise! She chose the day between!

And, how can a former Midwesterner forget February 2, Groundhog Day, a more significant day in the Midwest than in Central and South Texas where the winters are positively balmy in contrast. We held our breaths to see if Punxsutawney Phil saw his shadow which meant six more weeks of winter, or if we would enjoy an early spring.

For those who have never lived north of Oklahoma City, for example, winters aren't such a big deal. But for those of us who lived in the Midwest, northwestern Illinois to be exact, winter was a HUGE deal, and spring was an even "HUGER" deal! Sometimes it seemed as though the older I got, the harder it was to bear up under those painfully cold winters, especially on a farm where I (and most kids) had to do daily chores outside no matter the temperature or wind or precipitation. But, on the other hand, since I loved the animals (except for the really cantankerous roosters who would chase me every chance they got), feeding and watering livestock gave me an appreciation for the souls of gentle cows and lively horses.

I've long since realized I suffered from SAD, "seasonal affective disorder" while living in the Midwest, since the depressed moods concerning winter simply disappeared as soon as I drove across Texas on that very sunny and mild day in December of 1972. Previous to that date, all along the Illinois highways in late August and early September, whenever I saw weeds and grass start to turn brown and dry, a sort of depressed mood took me over--even though October was always beautiful with its brilliantly colored autumn leaves and dry sunny days. However, I knew that dreaded winter was on its way, and sure enough, it was soon heralded by November ) my birthday month (even though we celebrated Thanksgiving), always cold and rainy and/or cloudy.

In December, my spirits were always lifted because of the approaching holidays. Somehow the magic of Christmas dispelled the Illinois winter gloom. New Years Eve we watched New Yorkers party in glamorous ballrooms, dancing to the likes of Lester Lanin and his band, and then the ball dropped, and we went to bed.

New Years Day, January 1, always dawned bright, sunny and very, very cold. Sometimes there was a fresh foot or two of dry powderdy snow on the ground, and it sparkled like thousands of brilliant jewels in the sunshine, absolutely blinding to our eyes. Ice storms were also prevalent in January, adding a dangererous note, yet the trees, bushes, and grasses glistened like diamonds with musical crystal tinkles like I imagined a fairy orchestra would sound, in a dazzling beauty I've never seen surpassed, even after all these years.

So,(in Illinois) by the time Groundhog Day hit, I had spent hours and hours imagining and fantasizing about the best time during an Illinois winter to take off for sunny Florida for two weeks (though who could afford to do such a thing in those days except for my lawyer uncle and his family?) In my fantasies, I always wanted to make sure there wouldn't be many cold days left after returning from Florida, so I figured that the last two weeks in February would be perfect for a southern vacation. It would cut February in half, and I'd be home when the temperatures started to moderate and the ground began thawing, giving us ankle-deep (or deeper) mud in mid-March or so. But, who cared if there was mud when the temps sometimes reached 50 degrees? Though I've seen John Deere tractors and various family vehicles buried up to the wheel axles in mud. We became quite skilled in maneuvering our cars, trucks, and tractors between the two foot-deep-ruts on the half-mile dirt road to our farm.

So...much later on, when we'd study about England's medieval days and the Maypole dancing and festivities celebrating Spring, I knew exactly what that was all about. They had survived another winter of gray skies, dead vegetation, leaveless trees and shrubs and the unbelievable cold. And, much like England, there probably isn't a more beautiful spring than in Illinois, with the vivid bright-green grass, tree leaves and shrubs, the dazzling array of peonies, iris, and lilac bushes, and clematis vines that grow in everybody's gardens, and the soft breezes that welcomed us, the survivors of winter. Who wouldn't celebrate?

New Year's Resolutions (Reminders to Myself)

2010-01-06T20:31:00.007-06:00

Every so often I remind myself that we have more control over our lives than we think. Many serious health issues can be improved or even eliminated by changing the way we think and feel.

Optimism--not blind unthinking "pollyannish pseudo-optimism," but an optimism based on the truth and acceptance of our situation and the acknowledgement and acceptance of the healing power of love, yet with confidance that the body can produce miracles if our egos just get out of the way--is absolutely vital.

These reminders to myself may not be in the "correct" order, but here goes:

1. Let's meditate every single day to go inside ourselves and experience our inner essence (which is a part of God) in order to release any sadness, anger, fear, anxiety, and shame. Let's hold onto these feelings and thoughts, keeping them out in the open, experiencing them for as long as possible.

Bringing the light of day to these painful feelings can help dissipate them. As we do this, the love of God which exists naturally deep inside us will well up to surround these thoughts and to dissolve them. (Whatever we do, let's not push them down or repress them in any way.) Relief from many of these thoughts and feelings may take months or it may take years, but what would we be doing that's more important during that time, anyway?

2. Let's explore visualization and guided imagery, imagining and/or picturing the best possible scenario (perhaps a picture of ourselves enjoying total health and joy with plenty of energy). There are all kinds of books on this subject, if we are so inclined.

3. Let's be mindful to watch ourselves so that we can "catch" ourselves in a negative thought so that we can immediately replace it with a more loving thought, whether the negative thought is directed toward ourselves or someone else. Many times we're not as "nice" to ourselves as we are to others. Forgiveness begins at home, remember! It's pretty difficult to forgive others if we can't forgive ourselves.

4. Most importantly, believe, know and have faith that God is with us, God loves us, we are not sinners in His/Her eyes, and She/He will give us all the help and support we need in this life's journey.

5. Okay, everybody; let's awaken more fully than we ever have before. Let's begin today to live fully in love, forgiveness, peace and joy!

Much love,

P.

The following is from the book The Nature of Personal Reality and contains a quote by its author, Seth.
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In this perennial bestseller, Seth shows readers how we create our personal reality through our conscious beliefs about ourselves, others, and the world. His message is clear: we are not at the mercy of the subconscious, or helpless before forces we cannot understand. “We are Gods couched in creaturehood,” Seth says, “We are given the ability to form our experience as our thoughts and feelings become actualized.” In this remarkable book, Seth stresses the individual’s capacity for conscious action and provides practical exercises that show us how to apply his empowering insights to any life situation.

A Leisurely Evening at Home

2009-12-30T18:34:00.004-06:00

Recently, my Love and I decided to watch the recording of Frank Sinatra "Live at Carnegie Hall" (1980). It was late in the evening, as we settled down to experience the master showman puffing his cigarette, his voice perfectly seasoned by years of saloon singing, cigarettes, and bourbon, sing old songs like “When Your Lover Has Gone,” and “ I Will Stay Younger Than Spring.” The poignancy, the feeling, the personal touch he brought to these wonderful old tunes was mesmerizing. He was in fine form when he played the Hall, and we were struck once again by the magic.

The Holiday Season 2009

2009-12-15T13:36:00.005-06:00

Hello,
We are now deep into the holiday season. Once we enjoyed and then left Thanksgiving, the magic of Christmas began its dazzle and glow once again. Is it my imagination or are people politer and kinder this time of year? I think they are both because they are feeling the positive effects of the season.

Also, I’m feeling an energy in the air which may be caused in part by those positive feelings: Dare I hope it's forgiveness and love? Plus the Christmas music, traditional and/or contemporary, the decorations (I love those LED lights), and the excitement of the most significant holiday of the year add to the mix. And once again, my better half and I are making an effort to live in the NOW, to enjoy each moment, to breathe in and savor the idea that positive vibrations are constantly gradually increasing all around us, especially at this time of year. We do try year-round (and even more at Christmas) to temper our expectations of others and not to expect all that’s wrong in the world to right itself. In other words, we stay cool!

This past Thanksgiving, thirteen folks (some friends, mostly family) dined in our home. By the time we had eaten my sage dressing (Midwestern-style--not made with cornbread), our smoked turkey, our daughter’s fried turkey, mashed potatoes with my carefully crafted gravy--meant to taste of roasted turkey like it used to when I roasted an entire bird-- my apple and pumpkin pies (plus other assorted goodies that others brought, such as homemade bread, green bean casserole with cheese, spring mix salad with mangos and avocados, broccoli cornbread, cherry pie, chocolate pecan pie, pumpkin bars with maple icing, and peanut butter fudge), we all collapsed, satiated, on the nearest and softest surface. And, at the end of the day, my love and I were, how can I put this as diplomatically as possible? Exhausted but happy! We used the next two days to recuperate, but we were in a “happy haze,” knowing all had enjoyed themselves and that the house was still fairly clean!

Contributing to the spirit of Christmas is, of course, the music. I love most of it but could do without Andy Williams singing “It’s the Most Wonderful Day of the Year." In fact, “Silver Bells,” “The Little Drummer Boy," “Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer," “All I Want for Christmas is My Two Front Teeth,” and a few others that have been around for way too long could be forever buried beneath a truckload of discarded Christmas trees, and I would be happy.

But, those aren't as bad as others, such as, “The Restroom Door Said ‘Gentlemen,’” “I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas,” and “Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer.” With the narrator and Grandpa not being too concerned about the Grandma's demise because of a collision with a reindeer, I can't really see what this song adds to the holiday season. Perhaps it provides some comic relief to those who wish the same fate for various members of their families!! Who knows? But, hey, it does have a bouncy beat! (-: By the way, if I stepped on anyone’s favorite songs, I do apologize!

But, “O Holy Night,” sung by most anybody from Johnny Mathis to New Zealand’s Kirie te Kanawa, is soul-stirring. Streisand’s “Ave Maria” is incomparable. The old classic, “I’ll Be Home for Christmas,” stirs up all kinds of nostalgic feelings within me, no matter who sings it. And, there is Bing Crosby’s “White Christmas.” The lyrics paint a vivid image in my mind of a maroon linoleum floor (remember linoleum?) in a “front” room in a small house in Morrison, Illinois. I was in the second grade, and my mother hadn’t yet started working at that time, and my memories are of a carefree childhood. I also was experiencing the unparalleled excitement of Christmas that most children feel during this time of year.

Along with wishing you “Happy Holidays,” I can’t help reminding you (and myself) to stop and listen to that wise inner voice inside you. Listen to all children and to the animals. Listen carefully and understand. Feel intensely the love inside each of us. Know that we’re one with God. Forgive yourself and others. Wish everyone the very best that life has to offer. And, be joyful, be joyful, be joyful--now and in 2010!

Love, P

Our New (But Tiny) Pet!

2009-11-17T16:40:00.006-06:00

Hello,
My husband and I are the surprised owners of a small dog, to be specific, a barely-three-pound Chihuahua. When she found us two weeks ago, she weighed a little over two pounds!

Having always taken in strays or adopted from the animal shelter, we normally never would have considered owning a purebred animal. But, in this case, the stray turned out to be a purebred with no tag, no collar, and no microship.

So, how did we end up with this dog? The story is an old and familiar one, since our history with pets consists of adopting animals who found us while we were out on our daily walk. This method of finding pets has been going on for a long time, and we have adopted many animals over a longer period of time than I’d like to admit! The critters found us, stayed with us for many years, and when they departed, another one would appear as a replacement.

We were headed home from our daily walk two weeks ago, on a beautiful, cool and sunny day, and approximately two blocks from home, we saw a small creature, wandering in an erratic manner along the fence on the opposite side of the street. Looking at the tiny animal with the strange movements and the large pointed ears from that distance, we were puzzled as to what we were seeing. For all we knew, it could have been a miniature fox or a huge insect with long and pointed ears!

To make a long story short, we got closer, and I walked across the street, leaned down and scooped up a tiny, half-starved Chihuahua with no collar. Its ribs and spine jutted out in an alarming way, and I was afraid I would hurt it, as I gently cradled its shivering body in my arms.

We marveled over its tiny size and walked on home, intending to feed it and give it a drink of water and then decide what to do. Neither one of us had ever had a small dog. It seems that the average stray dog is normally medium to large in size.

In fact, we had always chuckled at people who had tiny dogs, especially people who sat in their cars with their little pets standing on their tiny, hind legs pawing the window glass. The little dogs which always seemed way too intelligent to us to be normal canines, were always seemingly interested in what was going on outside the vehicle. We had always owned larger animals, and while they were always in the best of health and quite affectionate, they surely never would have been accepted into a Mensa organization for canines!

And, those little dogs always wore some kind of clothing in cool weather. So, we laughed and went on our way, knowing we would never be like those retired folks who sat in their cars with little sweatered dogs looking out the window. Well, that was just two weeks ago.

Today, we took Rosie to the vet. The appointment cost $89 with two more visits scheduled--for approximately $350 each. Spaying and teeth cleaning are expensive propositions.

We don’t laugh at retired people with tiny pets anymore. As we drove out of the vet’s parking lot, Rosie had her hind legs on my lap and was looking out the window. Well, why not, for she seems to enjoy it so much! She surely is an intelligent little dog! And, since she shivers a lot in the cooler weather, it seems quite reasonable that the least we can do is to buy her a little sweater to keep her warm!

Some Funny Stuff Between Bits

2009-11-12T22:21:00.004-06:00

Hello,

Yes, I realize that I can sometimes get carried away in my seriousness. So, for a lighter moment between pontifications, I have the following joke from the Prairie Home Companion Website, November 14, 2009.
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This guy staggers into his house, exhausted after playing golf, and drops his clubs on the floor. "What a day!", he exclaims. His wife asks what happened. He responds, "Well, there we were on the first tee, when George had a heart attack and died."

"Oh, how awful."

"Yeh, the whole rest of the day it was: Hit the ball ... drag George ... hit the ball ... drag George. ..."
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This joke was sent in by Russell P., of Edmond, OK. Thanks Russell!

The Past--Almost--Two Months

2009-10-26T21:35:00.008-05:00

October 26, 2009

Hello!
I hadn’t planned on being away this long, but I’ve been working on scripts for my meditation CDs. By the time I read the script into the microphone for about the fiftieth time, almost two months had passed. But, I’ve completed four CDs; well, let’s make that three. I’ve got to listen to #4 one more time to check it out!

And, I’ve finally gotten a script ready for my fifth CD.

Also, a few weeks ago, we took a trip out to Carlsbad Caverns in New Mexico.

(Click on the title to this blog for pictures, and then click on each one to enlarge.)

My husband has been wanting to take me out there for the past three years, but I have to say I wasn’t too enthusiastic. However, when we walked down into the natural opening of the cave and continued almost two miles down into the bowels of the earth (over 800 feet- think 8-story building), once again I had to admit that I didn't really know what the heck I was talking about! It was absolutely amazing! But, it's not easy walking that far down such a steep grade. By the time we reached bottom, every leg muscle was quivering in protest! Thank heaven for the elevators!

The trip to the bottom of the world, it seemed to me, was scary, haunting, extremely and unrelentingly dark, isolated, and unbelievably beautiful. Down inside, the temperature is a constant 50 some degrees all year round, and the humidity is always quite high. Later, when we took the elevator back to the top and stepped out into the dazzling light, we felt as though we had been underground for two weeks!

Also, I’ve read a couple of books in the past month or so, one of which is eat pray love by Elizabeth Gilbert. It’s got to be one of the most entertaining and most perceptive books I’ve ever read. Many books offer up food for thought, but few of those are page turners like this one. My oldest daughter read it and loved it. My husband is now reading it and can’t put it down, and when he’s finished, I’ll pass it around to others.

On page 39 Gilbert talks about libraries, and it made me nostalgic for the Moline Public Library where my grandmother took me a few times. For a child, there is nothing like a few trips with a beloved grandmother, especially if it's to some special place which embeds pleasurable memories forever in one's psyche. The wood paneling, the marble stairs with the beautifully stained wood railings, the quiet and genteel stillness—how I love going back as an adult to experience those feelings once again.

From Gilbert’s book:

Later in the day I found a library. Dear me, how I love a library. Because we are in Rome, this library is a beautiful old thing, and within it there is a courtyard garden which you’d never have guessed existed if you’d only looked at the place from the street. The garden is a perfect square, dotted with orange trees and, in the center, a fountain. That fountain was going to be a contender for my favorite in Rome. I could tell immediately, though it was unlike any I’d seen so far. It was not carved of imperial marble, for starters. This was a small green, mossy, organic fountain. It was like a shaggy, leaking bush of ferns. (It looked, actually, exactly like the wild foliage growing out of the head of that praying figure which the old medicine man in Indonesia had drawn for me.) The water shot up out of the center of this flowering shrub, then rained back down on the leaves, making a melancholy, lovely sound throughout the whole courtyard.

I found a seat under an orange tree and opened one of the poetry books I’d purchased yesterday. Louise Gluck. I read the first poem in Italian, then in English, and stopped short at this line:

Dal centro della mia vita venne una grande Fontana . . .

“From the center of my life, there came a great fountain . . . “

I set the book down in my lap, shaking with relief.

Gilbert, Elizabeth. eat pray love. New York: Penguin Books, 2006.

Update on the Summer of 2009

2009-09-07T17:13:00.002-05:00

Well, according to Mark Murray, the weatherman at the local ABC affiliate Channel KVUE, Austin broke its record for the hottest summer in recorded history. Our blistering hot summer of 2009 hit an average of 89.1 degrees as contrasted to the summer of 2008 when an average of 86.7 degrees was recorded. The weather folks are pretty amazed that we broke the record by a whopping 2.4 degrees!

And, according to the weather blog at the Austin NBC weather affiliate KXAN, we had a total of 68 triple-digit days, one less than the record number of 69 triple-digit days, recorded in the hot summer of 1925.

Can't stop here. I've got to say that we've been in the "Exceptional" drought conditions category for quite a while; it goes like this: 1. Normal drought 2. Severe drought 3. Extreme Drought and 4. (the worst) Exceptional drought!

If I sound a bit sorry for Central Texans like myself, I suppose I am--from running myself ragged trying to save bushes, potted trees and plants this summer. I gave up on the grass a long time ago. And, we're taking steps to conserve water like never before. Native trees were and are dying from the drought, and when that happens, it's pretty serious, not to mention that two local lakes have lost so much water, they are down by at least 40%.

We were blessed by rain in the last four days or so, and it may save some shrubs and will certainly green up the grass, but it wasn't enough to help out with the lakes. I do hope it will save trees. But, where there is rain, there might be more.

So, please visualize, image, and pray for RAIN for not only Texas, but all drought-stricken areas in the world.

Thanks!

P.

I'll Set the Record Straight

2009-08-10T17:23:00.003-05:00

Okay, today is the 51st day of 100 degree temps or above. So, we've broken last year's record of 50. The alltime record was set in 1925 with 69 days of above 100 degree temps. It looks like this coming week with 100 degrees or above temperatures will help us get closer to the 1925 record. Stay tuned!

I've been working all day on my new Meditation for Health CDs and in between, downloading the Unity Church services for all of 2009. I plan to downloan the 2008 services in the next few days.
We're looking forward to seeing the movie Julia and Julie tonight. It's gotten great reviews!

Have a good week, everybody!

Patricia

Being "In the Moment"

2009-08-07T14:50:00.004-05:00

Hi Everybody,

I have always thought to myself that tomorrow will always be better. (If I can just get through today, if I just had more money, if so-and-so weren’t so difficult to get along with.)

But, I’m learning that there is a better way. To me, the following describes the difference between being "conscious" and "unconscious".

Of course I choose to be conscious, but I'm really having to WORK on it. I'm not there yet, but like I said, I'm working on it!

IF you worry about tomorrow….. I worry about finding a job OR I worry about my kid as a new and inexperienced driver OR I worry about those bills coming up that might be more than I can handle,

IF you feel guilt about yesterday…. (I wasn’t as patient a parent as I should have been OR I should have taken better care of my health)

THEN, YOU ARE NOT LIVING IN THE MOMENT.

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The following are just a few of the reasons for living in the moment (or the NOW as Eckhart Tolle would say).

1. You’ll experience a sense of peace when you finally realize that nothing can be accomplished (situations and relationships can only be made worse) by excessive worrying.

2. You’ll have more energy to enjoy life and improve your relationships since you’re not wasting your energy on worry and fear.

3. The precious moment that is NOW isn’t being tossed aside like garbage, never to return.

4. Tomorrow and yesterday won’t be able to push the present moment out of the picture, and whatever is happening at the moment, you’ll enjoy in the fullness and richness of the moment.

5. You’ll appreciate life even more because of your gratitude for being happier.

6. All sorts of CREATIVITY and SOLUTIONS (in living your life, in dealing with others, in solving problems, in expressing yourself through music, art, crafts, carpentry, gardening, farming, woodworking, designing, in helping your children…whatever it is…has a much better chance and a much easier time of it just to “be drawn into your psyche" (without your ego blocking the door).

7. You’ll have better physical and mental health, more satisfaction and more enjoyment of life.

8. Your life can now welcome all sorts of wonderful surprises: a more peaceful, less anxious life, brilliant bursts of creativity, more wisdom, and a richer existence overall.

9. Does it seem worth the while to practice ridding your mind of “mind chatter” and just to “be”? Does it seem worthwhile to even try? Only you can do it!

Patricia
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Eckhart Tolle in The Power of Now (and I'm separating his sentences for easier reading)

speaks of a state of peace and calm and uses the word “enlightenment.”

The ego (our thinking mind which is responsible for our feelings of fear, shame, inferiority, separation from others) wants us to be ever vigilant, to keep our guards up.

When we do this, we begin to feel more separate from others and from life. We begin to harbor suspicions, and we become fearful and feel that others are against us.

Exaggerated forms of these feelings are referred to as "paranoia."

The ego would like nothing more than to form a complete life of its own with no threats to its existance.

The ego wants the opposite of connectedness, of unity, of enlightenment (our “true nature” as Tolle calls it).

From The Power of Now: A Guide to Spiritual Enlightenment: Canada, Namaste Publishing, 1997.

On p. 10, Tolle writes (Again, I'm separating his sentences for easier reading):

The word "enlightenment" conjures up the idea of some superhuman accomplishment, and the ego likes to keep it that way, but it is simply your natural state of felt oneness with Being.

It is a state of connectedness with something immeasurable and indestructible, something that, almost paradoxically, is essentially you and yet is much greater than you.

It is finding your true nature beyond name and form.

The inability to feel this connectedness gives rise to the illusion of separation, from yourself and from the world around you.

You then perceive yourself consciously or unconsciously as an isolated fragment. Fear arises and conflict within and without becomes the norm.

Peace....from Patricia

It's About Time

2009-08-07T14:00:00.003-05:00

Hi Everybody,

Yikes, I've been doing so much writing lately I haven't taken any time to tend to my blog. How's that for irony?

Staying inside during the day is the best way to cope with this Texas heat. We're about to break the #2 record for Central Texas with the number of days 100 degrees and above. The record that we'll no doubt beat in a day or two was 50 days of above 100 degrees set last summer (2008).

Then, the alltime record for the number of days 100 and above was set in the 1920s. It was either 63 or 69. Sorry, I have looked several places and can't find that exact information. If anyone out there can find it, please let me know, and I'll correct any incorrect information above.

We'll probably hear the specific information again on one of the local weather shows, but I even checked three stations here in town, and couldn't find the info. I should have paid more attention to our informative weather people!

Anyway, wherever you all are, I hope you're having a good summer! Stay cool!

P.

Dreams are Gifts

2009-06-19T12:27:00.005-05:00

Hi Everybody,

For the last several years, I’ve been interested in remembering and recording my dreams and have tried to learn more about interpreting them.

The following is an oversimplified view of the complicated theories of Dr. Sigmund Freud and Dr. Karl Jung, but in my naiveté, I’m charging boldly ahead anyway-- with apologies to Freudian and Jungian experts)!

Freud’s work with his patients’ dreams yielded much valuable information, but also revealed his tendency to repeatedly emphasize implied sexual desires that he maintained were “repressed” in his patients’ psyches. His theories have been subject to considerable criticism within recent years.

Instead, perhaps a dream that involves nudity might be a dream that is showing vulnerability and the need to let go of shame. Even dreams that involve the sexual act may not be about repressed “wishes,” but about entirely different kinds of conflict.

The symbols given to us in our dreams are essential for us to understand in order to be able to interpret them. There are many books on dream symbols, but one thing I’ve learned is that as each person’s experience is different, the same symbol doesn’t mean the same thing for every person. So, even symbols have to be analyzed, with a view to our individuality.

One of the reasons Freud split with his disciple Karl Jung, the famous psychotherapist, is that Jung began to disagree with his mentor and to develop his own theories about the meanings of dreams.

What I understand about Jung’s theories--and I’ll say it again: these are simplified views of complicated theories--is that he didn’t believe that dreams were necessarily suppressed wishes but that dreams provided the tools, -- universities full of knowledge for us-- if you will, to help resolve our problems and conflicts, if only we would listen to them and make the effort to decipher them.

Jung talked about the anima and animus (the female characteristics of males and the male characteristics of females) as just some of the figures who appear in our dreams as actual characters. Their jobs are to keep showing us our problems on the gigantic screens of our minds. Oh, yes, the ego is also a character in our dreams! Jung maintained that we are confronted with our dreams, sometimes the same dream for years and years, in order to be able to deal with whatever conflicts exist in our lives. [And, I believe that if we didn’t have conflict in our everyday lives, we wouldn’t be here in this incarnation on this goofy planet in the first place!]

First, though, we have to pay attention to our nightly, but very helpful, ”therapists”. Then, we have to remember the dream (this usually involves getting up in the middle of the night to write down a few reminders, or if the dream occurs just before waking in the a.m., getting up and writing the dream’s details down). And, sometimes, it doesn’t hurt to do some research to try to figure it out.

Rodger Kamenetz came out with an informative book last year, The History of Last Night’s Dream. Since he has written about the Jewish experience in some of his other books, this book begins by discussing dreaming in the Judaism tradition, which is very interesting and informative. But, further on in the book, he talks about his own experiences with dream expert Marc Bregman, and for me, that’s where it begins to “grab me.” Bregman incorporates some theories of Jung in his analysis. There are several examples of dreams and their analyses given in the book. I suggest this book as a beginning tool if you want to learn more about dreams.

What am I currently reading (or shall we say, “plodding through”)? It’s Patterns of Dreaming: Jungian Techniques in Theory and Practice by James A. Hall, M.D. It’s slow going but rewarding.

So, as human beings we need all the help we can get. We’re all in this together, and we’re all searching for peace and love. [By the way, maybe we should utter some words of gratitude for this otherworldly help, even if sometimes we aren’t always able to translate it]!

Instead of signing off by saying, “Happy Dreaming,” I’ll sign off with “Happy Translating Your Dreams.” Why shouldn’t we take advantage of the blessings offered us?

Peace,

Patricia

My Screenwriting Class

2009-06-04T22:45:00.004-05:00

Hello Everybody,

Last week I started my five-week class in screenwriting at the University of Texas, Informal Classes. The script I began writing a few years ago has been lying dormant and needed to come into full consciousness, so I decided to get some help! The instructor seems very knowledgeable, having worked on various film projects in Los Angeles, and he’s now working (while teaching at a community college) on another project here in Austin.

My unfinished script has lain in a drawer for so long because I was stuck, actually; however, at the first class meeting, I figured out my major problem. The first part of the script is pretty well completed, but thanks to the class, I now realize I need a basic outline to finish the story. So much for copying some authors' writing styles--they claim they begin writing, and the story and characters begin to write themselves! Not for me, anyway!

My dear better half insists upon going with me and sitting out in the hallway for two hours reading, while I’m in class. It’s fun for both of us to walk around downtown Austin and experience the energy in the air (which is in abundance!) Back on the UT campus after so many years brings back memories. I earned a BA there over twenty years ago. Since I’ve always been a late-bloomer, at the time, I was over twenty years older than the average student. But, everybody always treated me as just another student, and I had a great time there.

It’s going to be quite a detective-style search to see what kind of legal requirements exist pertaining to my script. I based it on a book of diaries published in 1953, twenty years after the death of the diarist. The diarist was born in the latter part of the 1870s and began keeping his diary as a child. Later on, he gave permission to his wife to publish them in the event of his death but never wanted his identity revealed, so his widow made sure his diaries were published anonymously, many years later. The man responsible for procuring them from the widow died several years ago. The English publishing house that published the diaries has gone out of business. I believe the book itself is out of print. So, I’m in the process of finding a way to get information about the film rights to the book. Hey, I'm nothing if not optimistic! And, I always keep reminding myself that it's the process that's important. If it results in something attractive to someone, fine! If not, that's fine, too!

Wish me luck!

In class, we learned that the concept of a script is called a logline. Mine is below:

A young Victorian boy who has extraordinary powers copes with the disbelief of his parents and elements of Victorian society who demand that he be seen and not heard, yet his “special friends” and his own charming strength of character provide some amusing situations as well as help him navigate his sometimes stressful childhood.

P.

Walking in the Texas summers and attending Unity Church

2009-05-31T22:54:00.005-05:00

Well, summer has arrived here in Texas. With the temperature in the 90s and with the high humidity, it is nearly impossible for us to walk our two miles unless we set out before 9:00 a.m. We walked last evening at 8:30, were enchanted by the half moon and had a grand time standing on the hill and looking at the dark clouds. But, by the time we got back, I was overheated and wanted nothing more than to collapse upon the couch and gulp down a glass of cold water. I immediately decided to forsake the couch and to lie down on the cool floor while the fan blew overhead. It worked!

My problem with rising early in order to walk is that I’m a “night” person, so I usually stay up late writing or reading or whatever. I have been known to mop the floors or iron between the hours of 10:00 p.m. and 12 midnight. For me, getting up early unless I really have to is next to a special kind of torture. The only time I really enjoy getting up early is if we’re about leave on a trip somewhere and then the excitement of traveling takes over. And, since Ray and I are both retired, we don’t feel guilty about sleeping in (we figure we've paid our dues!). We are, however, sympathetic with those who can’t—those who work 8:00 – 5:00 jobs, raising families and trying to get household chores done and errands run in the evenings or on weekends. God Bless them all!

We had a unique experience at our Unity Church of the Hills this morning, a chance to hear Karen Taylor Good give the message and sing several songs in the process (Our minister and his wife are traveling back to the Southeast to visit family this week.) Karen’s a two time Grammy winner, and even though we knew that beforehand, we still didn’t expect to hear such talent. What a voice! She also related the story of finally reaching the point where she figured out what she was supposed to do with her life. Wow! ‘twas a memorable experience! http://www.unityhills.org/events.htm#good

In a few days, I’ll be able to download the church service and put the link on so that you can hear her for yourselves.

That’s it from Texas. Have a good week, y’all!

Love, P.

Moving

2009-05-22T23:28:00.003-05:00

Hello Everybody,

It has been a while since I’ve been on here. Almost every single day since March-- since my last blog--I’ve meant to get busy and write something to upload, but we’ve been busy getting ready to put our house on the market. “Staging” our house and yard and taking vanloads of furniture and unnecessary-things-for-comfortable living up to our storage space, about a two-hour drive from Austin to Waco has kept us hopping.

Of course, it might not be the time to put a house on the market, with the housing situation and all, but we feel positive about it. We feel that nothing was ever gained by sitting back and doing nothing because of fear.

I’ve planted lots of petunias and marigolds, some of which haven’t done very well. So, I bought about fifteen pots of pentas (which had 3-4 nice plants in each pot) and planted them. They're so much more reliable in this climate even though they're annuals.

My husband and I have trimmed our front wooded area, and over the last three days have laid 14 bags of mulch. I’ve sprayed all the poison ivy lurking in the area, and pulled out other sneaky little sprigs. Lovely stuff!!

If the family who buys this house has children, I plan to show the parents (if they’re unfamiliar with poison ivy) exactly what the plant looks like, so they can keep it from taking over and poisoning their kids.

And, we’ve solved the case of the missing flyers! We kept losing the realtor’s flyers in front of our house and finally saw a little guy get off the school bus and innocently start grabbing them. Ray hollered out, “You can’t take those flyers; we’ve spent money for them. Thanks!” I think he shocked the boy, but he didn’t want to scare him.

My son and one of my daughters have wanted us to move closer to Waco for some time, so that’s what we’re doing. And, in Waco, we’ll be closer to Dallas where my other daughter lives, so it’ll be nice to pop up there and see her more often.

We plan to be “dual citizens” of two Texas towns, however. We love Austin and its energy so much that we’d be bereft without it! Therefore, we plan to drive down almost every weekend to attend our church and to see my granddaughter and her family who live in South Austin. We have been so close to them and have babysat little Ethan –from his “newborness” to his present five years--so often in good times and bad (when he’s been happy and healthy and when he’s been sick or had a tonsillectomy) that we can’t not see them every week or so.

Well, it’s almost June, the month for graduations and marriages, and I have a beautiful granddaughter graduating from high school. She plans to go into the health field, like her mother, who is an RN. Also, my nephew in Illinois is getting married to a woman he’s been with for many years. She has MS but manages it very well, and we wish them all the best.

We’re fine, we’re happy, and we’re working hard. I hope this finds all of you well and happy.

P.

p.s. Remember that we create our own reality (more on that later.)

Children

2009-03-11T22:15:00.004-05:00

I sometimes find myself wondering what life would have been like had I not had children, and then in the next moment I feel enormous gratitude that that wasn’t the case. Graduating from high school and marrying at a too-young seventeen, my daughter was born when I was nineteen years old. When I was twenty-three, I had my son, and at twenty-six, a second daughter. I reveled in being a new mother, even when droopy eyed with fatigue, I was up with my newborns at night. I remember being shocked that my babies ate up all my time! My time was so filled that I felt visiting the bathroom was a luxury!

As a young parent, it seemed as though the diaper stages would go on forever. I had a brand new Maytag “washing machine” with a wringer and two rinse tubs. Since I wanted to be the best mother ever, my babies’ diapers were changed before they could even feel uncomfortable; therefore, that old Maytag ran almost every day!

I looked forward to the day when my growing babies could walk because I always felt so bad when they had to sit or lie in their bassinets, that just sitting around like that must be the dullest thing in the world. So, I ended up carrying them as much as I possibly could, even when my son weighed 25 pounds: I’d prop him on one hip, as I cooked a meal. Then, when they could walk, I looked forward to their first words. I remember how I loved hearing my youngest daughter at the age of three squeak out in her high little voice the tune and lyrics to “What’s New Pussycat!” Now, if I could go back, I would luxuriate in—and revel in-- each phase and make a conscious effort to simply enjoy the gifts of the present moment.

My girls said “Mama” and “Dada” soon after the age of one, earlier than my son, as is usually the case. But, my son began singing before he talked. The first song he sang ("hummed" is more like it) at the age of two years was the “Theme from Exodus.” After that, he began talking in sentences. I guess he was holding it all in until he could string words together! (He had an incredible ear for music and later became a talented guitarist, to this day still playing in a band. My oldest daughter was and still is “into horses” a passion passed on to her from her grandfather.

Oh, there were the usual mistakes every parent makes in raising their children. I wanted their experiences to be so much better (different) from mine, so as many parents do, I was rather zealous in my determination to do the exact opposite of my parents. They didn’t take us to a dentist, and the only time we saw a doctor was for an emergency; therefore, I was determined to make sure my children saw the pediatrician and their dentist for regular appointments. The only problem when I took my oldest daughter at the age of four to see a dentist, was me.

As a child, I had always been nervous in my few and far between trips to the doctor and then when my grandmother took me at the age of eight years to a dentist (how can I forget “kindly” Dr. Morris?) for the first time, he drilled and filled six teeth all in the same visit, with no Novocain or anesthetic. I still can remember the pain and the tears that filled my eyes, but I was taught to be a “good” little girl, so therefore didn’t make a fuss.

So, when the time came to take my daughter in simply for a dental checkup to this very nice, conscientious pediatric dentist I had found, my nervous attitude and memories, of course, influenced her. As a result, the dentist had to prescribe a mild tranquilizer before the next visit to fill the one cavity she had. Actually, I should have had him prescribe one for me, instead! Most new parents don’t realize how easily their feelings and perceptions carry over to their children. So, I wish I had been more relaxed and in the moment!

Anyway, in spite of all my mistakes, my kids grew up to become wonderful, caring people. In old snapshots of myself holding them when they were younger, I see a young woman who thought she knew so much more than she really did. I see someone whom Eckhart Tolle would call rather “unconscious.” From their births to the present, I have my children to thank for my becoming really “conscious.” Without them, I wouldn’t have learned as much compassion, self-awareness and patience. Children are our best teachers for teaching us how to sacrifice and to love it.

From them, I learned more about myself, my own parents, and my grandparents. I have two beautiful granddaughters and the most precious little great grandson in the world. They have made my life so rich that I can’t even imagine what kind of person I’d be without them. So, no matter how many future lives I’m going to have to live on this planet, I can’t imagine any of them--and I don’t want to live any of them-- without children.

Love,
P.

A Journey to Remember What I've Forgotten

2009-03-02T14:19:00.005-06:00

Just the other day, my husband Ray and I were discussing our individual spiritual journeys as to when and how they began. Human memory is a tricky thing, and it’s easy to attribute a new feeling of awareness with an event or events in our lives when nothing of the kind actually happened. But, to the best of my recollection, the following is what happened regarding my own trek toward enlightenment.

I had a fairly isolated childhood, for several years living on a farm in rural Illinois, with no children as neighbors. As an eight-year-old, my only contact with other children (other than my six year-old sister and three year-old brother who constantly played together and thought of me as the “older” sibling) was mainly with my peers in school. Consequently, I spent much time in reading and re-reading books in the big old cavernous farmhouse we lived in--or wandering through the woods with my little-girl fantasies (truly believing that I was an Indian because I could read signs in nature. Each leaf and twig had its special place, and I was certain I could tell if my precious woods were disturbed in any way). In fact, I was certain about my Native American blood simply because I could walk so silently and stealthily among the great, towering, Illinois trees.

It all made sense to my eight-year-old self. It didn’t make any difference to me that my physical ancestry was German, Irish, Austrian, English, Swiss, and a bit of French. I simply knew I had Indian blood coursing through my veins. So basically, I was creating and internalizing a life for myself, creating my ancestry--my very existence--with very little adult input. I grew up feeling a terrific sense of responsibility for myself and for others, and I developed the habit of analyzing myself and others for the rest of my life. Oh, yes, another fantasy included being a movie star! In my mind, I sang, danced, and acted with the best of them, diligently cutting out pictures of my favorite stars from movie magazines and pasting them in a scrapbook.

Swinging in an old rope swing which hung from an old maple tree was something I did much of while my father was out in the fields. I must have spent an inordinate amount of time swinging away because that scene is indelibly etched on my mind. At that time, my mother worked in town and stayed in town all week, so we only saw her on Sundays. It was a challenging period for us children. I’m certain that these formative years contributed to my habit of introspection and analysis which sowed the seeds for a life of spiritual searching.

Jump ahead to the 1980s in Waco, Texas, where I had a friend in sales who was always reading some type of spiritual book. At that time, even though she was very enthusiastic about the subject, her recommendations weren’t enough to interest me in what she was reading at the moment.

During that same period, I had another friend who taught part time in the speech department at Baylor University. She traveled to Austin once a week to attend a session where an ancient Chinese person was supposedly being channeled for a group. Each week she described each session, on our many walks. The Being being (excuse the pun!) channeled didn’t seem (to me at that time) to have any enlightening answers and actually seemed to duck the serious questions with generally amusing and condescending responses.

Then, this same friend joined a group studying A Course in Miracles. The leader of the group was head of Psychology at the local hospital. All she told me about the course was that it was “difficult.” It was many years before I dipped into the text and understood what she meant. Since that time, I’ve read interpretations and analyses of A Course in Miracles. Now, I realize that it truly is a text written for those who are looking to grow and evolve. And, within the Unity Church movement, it is studied in most, if not all, of their churches.

During the next several years, though subjects like the above intrigued me, my interest was never piqued enough to begin the journey myself. Then a few years later, what I call my “wake-up call,” the “2X4 that hit me on the head to get my attention” happened: my diagnosis of lymphoma in 1994.

I’ve described in one of my blogs how this search became all important, and as I searched, I progressed from looking for answers from a perspective of fear plus hope for healing—to feeling more and more peace. I felt awake as though I had been asleep all the previous years of my life (except for my family and except for the love I felt for everyone). And, as I began to look for answers, the desire for more information got even stronger. One step would lead to another and another and yet another. It was like putting the pieces of a puzzle together for a second time. I seemed to remember how the puzzle originally fit together, and my job now was to read and experience as much as I could, in order to remember what I shouldn’t have forgotten.

That’s what I’m discovering: the answers are all about learning what we all forgot: that we are one with everyone, one with God, and that forgiveness and love are all we need to understand. Now it is February 2009, and I am turning to the East in my quest for more answers, to India, the land with an ancient history of human enlightenment.

I’m reading Autobiography of a Yogi by Paramahansa Yogananda, one of the most well-known of the yogis. The holy men in India claim that even Jesus and other people mentioned in the Bible visited India and took with them some of their most important teachings and traditions.

Eckhart Tolle, in his Introduction to The Power of Now, and in his book A New Earth, discusses his coming of awareness. It wasn’t like mine, but a sudden transformation which he emphasizes is more unusual than the gradual one experienced by most people.

Love, Patricia
---------------------------------------------------------
Tolle’s account:

Until my thirtieth year, I lived in a state of almost continuous anxiety, interspersed with periods of suicidal depression. It feels now as if I am talking about some past lifetime or somebody else’s life.

One night not long after my twenty-ninth birthday, I woke up in the early hours with a feeling of absolute dread. I had woken up with such a feeling many times before, but this time it was more intense than it had ever been. The silence of the night, the vague outlines of the furniture in the dark room, the distant noise of a passing train---everything felt so alien, so hostile, and so utterly meaningless that it created in me a deep loathing of the world. The most loathsome thing of all, however, was my own existence. What was the point in continuing to live with this burden of anxiety? Why carry on with this continuous struggle? I could feel that a deep longing for annihilation, for nonexistence, was becoming much stronger than the instinctive desire to continue to live.

“I cannot live with myself any longer.” This was the thought that kept repeating itself in my mind. Then suddenly I became aware of what a peculiar thought it was. “Am I one or two? If I cannot live with myself, there must be two of me: the ‘I’ and the ‘self’ that ‘I’ cannot live with.” “Maybe,” I thought, “only one of them is real.”

I was so stunned by this strange realization that my mind stopped. I was fully conscious, but there were no more thoughts. Then I felt drawn into what seemed like a vortex of energy. It was a slow movement at first and then accelerated. I was gripped by an intense fear, and my body started to shake. I heard the words “resist nothing,” as if spoken inside my chest. I could feel myself being sucked into a void. It felt as if the void was inside myself rather than outside. Suddenly, there was no more fear, and I let myself fall into that void. I have no recollection of what happened after that.

I was awakened by the chirping of a bird outside the window. I had never heard such a sound before. My eyes were still closed, and I saw the image of a precious diamond. Yes, if a diamond could make a sound, this is what it would be like. I opened my eyes. The first light of dawn was filtering through the curtains. Without any thought, I felt, I knew, that there is infinitely more to light than we realize. That soft luminosity filtering through the curtains was love itself. Tears came into my eyes. I got up and walked around the room. I recognized the room, and yet I knew that I had never truly seen it before. Everything was fresh and pristine, as if it had just come into existence. I picked up things, a pencil, an empty bottle, marveling at the beauty and aliveness of it all.

That day I walked around the city in utter amazement at the miracle of life on earth, as if I had just been born into this world.

For the next five months, I lived in a state of uninterrupted deep peace and bliss. After that, it diminished somewhat in intensity, or perhaps it just seemed to because it became my natural state. I could still function in the world, although I realized that nothing I ever did could possibly add anything to what I already had.

I knew, of course, that something profoundly significant had happened to me, but I didn’t understand it at all. It wasn’t until several years later, after I had read spiritual texts and spent time with spiritual teachers, that I realized that what everybody was looking for had already happened to me. I understood that the intense pressure of suffering that night must have forced my consciousness to withdraw from its identification with the unhappy and deeply fearful self, which is ultimately a fiction of the mind. This withdrawal must have been so complete that this false, suffering self immediately collapsed, just as if a plug had been pulled out of an inflatable toy. What was left then was my true nature as the ever-present I am: consciousness in its pure state prior to identification with form. Later I also learned to go into that inner timeless and deathless realm that I had originally perceived as a void and remain fully conscious. I dwelt in states of such indescribable bliss and sacredness that even the original experience I just described pales in comparison. A time came when, for a while, I was left with nothing on the physical plane. I had no relationships, no job, no home, no socially defined identity. I spent almost two years sitting on park benches in a state of the most intense joy.

But even the most beautiful experiences come and go. More fundamental, perhaps, than any experience is the undercurrent of peace that has never left me since then. Sometimes it is very strong, almost palpable, and others can feel it too. At other times, it is somewhere in the background, like a distant melody.

Later, people would occasionally come up to me and say: “I want what you have. Can you give it to me, or show me how to get it?” And I would say: “You have it already. You just can’t feel it because your mind is making too much noise.” That answer later grew into the book that you are holding in your hands.

Before I knew it, I had an external identity again. I had become a spiritual teacher.

Tolle, Eckhart. The Power of Now: A Guide to Spiritual Enlightenment. Novato, California: New World Library, 1999.

More Movies

2009-02-20T00:15:00.003-06:00

Two nights ago, we saw Revolutionary Road (in the Oscar race for art direction and set design), and in our opinions, the best of all the movies we’ve seen this year. However, the movie itself wasn't even nominated. Sam Mendes (Kate Winslet’s husband) made no false moves as director; the script and the acting were perfect. Winslet, in addition to being breathtakingly beautiful, is as fearless in her acting as is someone of the calibre of a Judi Dench or Vanessa Redgrave. And, why Leo DeCaprio wasn’t nominated for an Oscar is puzzling, since his portrayal of a young 1950s husband and father is also the best performance by a male actor that we’ve seen this year. Together, they strike a home-run, but neither was nominated for this film!

Doubt, which is set in a Chicago Catholic school, is about the conflict that grows between a nun played by Meryl Streep (nominated for best actress) and a priest played by Philip Seymour Hoffman (nominated for best supporting actor). She believes he is guilty of an improper relationship with one of the students. Hoffman is a gifted actor and it was interesting to see him and Streep compete for scenes. I felt that Streep was at times overacting. Viola Davis, who played the mother of the child gave a stunning performance and has been nominated for best supporting actress.

The Visitor, which stars Richard Jenkins (nominated for best actor), is a quiet unassuming movie that speaks volumes. He is a college professor who has more or less resigned from the world, simply going through the motions of living. The one economics class he teaches has no interest for him, and the book he’s writing seems to be simply an excuse for not being more involved in the world. He attends to his teaching and writing career in a half-hearted fashion, especially after he befriends a young immigrant couple. His efforts on behalf of the young couple, plus the therapy of beating out African rhythms on drums, start to breathe some life back into him. Wonderful movie! We ordered it from Netflix since it’s out in DVD.

Several months ago, we saw Frozen River with Melissa Leo (nominated for best actress). Leo plays a single mother desperate to make some cash, so she agrees to smuggle some people across the river from Canada. The upstate New York winter made me happy to live in Central Texas! It was a good movie, rather depressing at times, but thoroughly realistic. The ending is a triumph of the human spirit.

Some months ago, we also saw Vicky Cristina Barcelona which was thoroughly entertaining. I love Woody Allen’s movies but wouldn’t put this one in the same class as Revolutionary Road, for example. Penelope Cruz (nominated for best actress) was excellent as the slightly crazy ex-wife of Javier Bardem. She threw herself into her part with abandon, and these were some of the best scenes in the movie.

We haven’t yet seen The Reader, for which Winslet was nominated for a best actress award and Changeling (which we probably won’t see) for which Angelina Jolie was nominated for same. Perhaps we can see The Reader and The Curious Case of Benjamin Button in the next week or two--after the academy award ceremonies.

P

Movies

2009-02-08T21:52:00.005-06:00

Hi Everybody,

Ray and I (inveterate filmgoers) are viewing and then checking off each Oscar nominated picture before the Academy Awards event. Fortunately, our favorite theater, The Arbor, is holding over from week to week to week all the major nominated films. (Rachel’s Wedding has been playing there for at least five weeks, I’m sure.)

The Ones We’ve Seen:

Milk was an excellent picture, and Sean Penn was terrific as Harvey Milk. Actual clips of 1960s and 1970s San Francisco riots and marches by gays to protest inequality were included in the film which gave the movie a convincing air of authenticity (not that it was needed). I love documentaries, and there was a sense of immediacy from seeing the newsclips. It was so interesting to see the various characters in the movie and then the actual people the characters were based on, in the clips.

Rachel Getting Married was about a girl who had just gotten out of rehab and her struggles while in a vulnerable state in dealing with her family members. What is also interesting is how the family is affected, short-term and long-term by the addicted family member. Anne Hathaway does a great job in the lead role, and the superb direction by Jonathan Demme and skillfully written script (Jenny Lumet) engenders an awareness and feeling of sympathy for each character in the movie.

Slumdog Millionaire was sometimes hard to watch because of some scenes showing the abuse of Indian slum children by corrupted adults. But the movie itself had a great plot which was revealed in a series of flashbacks as a young man answers questions on India’s version of “Who Wants to Be a Millionaire”? One got a sense of the enormity of impoverished Indians, but one also couldn’t help but be very touched by the unquenchable spirit of the children, a joy of life that shone through each scene. And, the movie itself is a reminder that we can’t forget about these children; that they must be helped.

Frost and Nixon was a better film than we had expected. We didn’t know how a series of interviews centering around the interviewer David Frost (played by Michael Sheen) who struggles to ask the crucial questions and draw out the truth from Richard Nixon (played by Frank Langella) could be played out. But Ron Howard, one of my favorite directors, came through again. (We are amazed, when we see him in interviews, how down-to-earth and really nice he is.)

And then today, after church and lunch, we decided to catch The Wrestler. I knew it wouldn’t be an easy (blood, grit, depressing scenes) movie to watch, but that never kept me from seeing a movie before! And, it was all of the above, but with exceptional acting performances from Mickey Rourke, Marisa Tomei, and Evan Rachel Wood. After seeing the struggles of the main characters, I thought again about the millions of ordinary human beings on this planet, how we all are damaged in some way, how we all need love, how we all have to survive somehow in a world that’s not tailor-made for our personalities and talents, how we all fail at times like the characters in the movie, how some of us rise again, and hopefully, how some of us have our chances in another life. Yes, I believe in reincarnation!

The following site that lists awards and nominations for movies, and it was interesting to see how many The Wrestler has garnered.

http://www.fandango.com/thewrestler_78651/awards

We have Doubt, The Reader, and Revolutionary Road still to go. With all the good movies this year, the Academy Awards show is going to be interesting.

P

Today at Unity Church of the Hills

2009-02-01T21:34:00.003-06:00

Today was a special day at the Unity Church of the Hills. Well, come to think of it, every Sunday is, but how else can I differentiate this particularly wonderful day? We had guests, five Muslim men: engineers and computer people (all PhDs) employed in Austin who came to represent the Institute of Inter-Faith Dialog of Austin.

(This is their mission statement.)

Mission of the IIDThe Institute of Interfaith Dialog is a non-profit organization whose primary goal is to help bring together the communities in order to promote compassion, cooperation, partnership and community service through interfaith dialog and conversation. The IID is dedicated to encouraging the study of the global communities' spiritual traditions from the vantage point of respect, accuracy, and appreciation.

http://www.interfaithdialog.org/index.php?option=com_frontpage&Itemid=1

The congregation responded with one huge heart, greeting them warmly and applauding several times. Afterward, in the lobby, everybody wanted to shake hands with the visitors and thank them for coming. Hooray for Unity Church of the Hills!

And, the music was especially magical today, but then I also say that every Sunday. The singers performed a beautiful version of “I Believe I Can Fly”, a pop song by R. Kelly that came out in 1996, sung here by Yolanda Adams and the Soul Children of Chicago (2002):

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jBPBfNlCHio

The harmony and blends of the Unity singers couldn’t have been any better. Why is it that every Sunday with their very first song, my eyes begin to well up with tears? My husband and I are finding our emotions lying much closer to the surface these days.

Walking out of the church with the lady who usually sits in front of us, we all marveled at the incredible service and said we just wanted to stay and not go home! But since we were hungry, we decided to go to Fresh Choice and have a terrific salad.

It’s amazing that the church wasn’t just packed like it usually is. Neither was the restaurant. And then, we remembered, Super Bowl Sunday!

Thanks again, Steve, Unity Church, and Austin for another memorable time!

Love, P

After the Inauguration of our 44th President, Barack Hussein Obama

2009-01-23T21:27:00.005-06:00

This mad, magical and sometimes crazy carpet ride we've been on throughout 2008, culminating in the history-making events of this past week, is finally slowing down.

Three days after Tuesday, January 20, 2009, after feeling a joyful part of the human crush of two million ecstatic people shivering and screaming with joy in the frigid D.C. weather, after being bombarded with constant enthusiastic media coverage, after seeing on television the very moving services at the National Cathedral, after witnessing the actual inauguration ceremony and the following lunch at the Capitol, after hearing all the speeches, after seeing the Obamas walking along (with some very nervous Secret Service people) Pennsylvania Avenue in the upper twenty-degree weather and the wind blowing (with Michelle wearing only a light coat and heels, yet appearing to be actually enjoying the walk), after viewing the ten inaugural balls that evening with the Obamas showing incredible stamina, dancing at each one, and especially after watching the helicopter carrying George and Laura out of the city and into the wild blue yonder, headed for Texas, things are finally calming down.

We're now getting back "down" from the carpet ride to the ordinary business of living our lives, though still basking in the glow of the explosive euphoria that swirled about us for the past several days. All I can say is "Wow!" What a ride 2008 was! What a relief to see Bush go! What a blessing to finally have someone with integrity and honor, someone who will listen to the people, someone who is intelligent and wise. The euphoria lingers simply because a different man with a totally different character and values is in the White House. Thank You, God!

Over two million people attended the ceremonies in D.C., and we're told that not one incident, not one disturbance, was reported. Think of it! Travis County, which includes Austin and its surrounding environs, holds approximately one million people. With the two million visitors to the inauguration, we're looking at the equivalent of a city population twice the size of Travis County. Yet, no fights or disturbances of any kind occured during that time. If that doesn't give us hope for mankind, I don't know what does!

Thank you my fellow Americans for trusting your hearts. Thank you, Barack Obama, for appearing on the scene just when we needed you most.

Now, let's get on with fixing everything that was wrong during the past eight years and bringing some new ideas to bear as we improve the lives of Americans and those around the world--all the while looking forward with hope, enthusiasm, and charity!

Patricia

http://www.cityofaustin.org/demographics/

http://www.pennlive.com/news/patriotnews/index.ssf?/base/news/1232508304315920.xml&coll=1

http://www.google.com/hostednews/ap/article/ALeqM5iT-VvLJveBygENvamHcJ5Sm9PNBQD95ROQ3O0

This and That

2009-01-16T21:23:00.006-06:00

My prized copy of I Heard God Laughing: Poems of Hope and Joy is becoming well-worn (and it's sporting a dog-eared look, as well) from my incessant thumbing through its pages of poems to read to my husband. These poems were written by Persian spiritual teacher, Hafiz, who lived from approximately 1320-1389.

Published by Penguin Books in 2006, the poems are translated by Daniel Ladinsky who lived in India for six years, "exploring the essence and unity of all faiths."

"A teacher there ingrained the wonder of Hafiz into his [Ladinsky's] heart when he said, 'With great wit and tenderness the words of Hafiz speak for God.' "

Here are some poems I hope will lift you gently and joyfully into all the seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, and months of 2009, which (as you and I both know) is going to be a marvelous, miraculous year for us all. (One huge reason is that Barack Obama is our new President. Thank you, America, for trusting your hearts.)

P.
------------------------
(The following is also from I Heard God Laughing: Poems of Hope and Joy but without Ladinsky's signature.)

Poetic Conventions
Hafiz uses a few Persian literary devices that may initially confuse Western readers:

In some poems, Hafiz is like a playwright who is acting all the parts: the lover, the disciple, the Master and Guide, the voice of God, sometimes even the reader. Often I, you, he or she, and Hafiz refer to the same person.

He frequently includes his name, Hafiz, in at least one stanza. This was a method of "signing" the poem, as one might sign a letter to a friend or as an artist might sign a painting.

Hafiz uses a technical vocabulary to write about stages of spiritual unfolding. Fortunately, his images are so vivid and real that one does not need to understand the mysticism to recognize the experience. In essence, all mysticism deals with processes of love and the ways in which one joins God through love. For Hafiz, the focus of love is often a Master of Love, desciribed as a Luminous Figure, Pir (Friend), or sometimes the Tavern-Keeper, the one who pours Love's Wine. The Master puts the student on intimate terms with God, who is called the Friend, the Beloved, the Beautiful One.

---------------------------

Some of Hafiz's poems:

We Should Talk About This Problem

There is a Beautiful Creature
Living in a hole you have dug,

So at night
I set fruit and grains
And little pots of wine and milk
Beside your soft earthen mounds,

And I often sing.

But still, my dear,
You do not come out.

I have fallen in love with Someone
Who hides inside you.

We should talk about this problem--

Otherwise,
I will never leave you alone.
--------------------
Manic Screaming

We should make all spiritual talk
Simple today:

God is trying to sell you something,
But you don't want to buy.

That is what your suffering is:

Your fantastic haggling,
Your manic screaming over the price!
------------------------
My Brilliant Image

One day the sun admitted,

I am just a shadow.
I wish I could show you
The Infinite Incandescence (Tej)

That has cast my brilliant image!

I wish I could show ou,
When you are lonely or in darkness,

The Astonishing Light

Of your own Being!

----------------------

What Happens

What happens when your soul
Begins to awaken
Your eyes
And your heart
And the cells of your body
To the great Journey of Love?

First there is wonderful laughter
And probably precious tears

And a hundred sweet promises
And those heroic vows
No one can ever keep.

But still God is delighted and amused
You once tried to be a saint.

What happens when your soul
Begins to awake in this world

To our deep need to love
And serve the Friend?

O the Beloved
Will send you
One of His wonderful, wild companions--

Like Hafiz.

------------------

Someone Who Can Kiss God

Come to my house late at night--
Do not be shy.
Hafiz will be barefoot and dancing.

I will be
In such a grand and generous mood!

Come to my door at any hour,
Even if your eyes
Are frightened by my light.
My heart and arms are open
And need no rest--
They will always welcome you.

Come in, my dear,
From that harsh world
That has rained elements of stone
Upon your tender face.

Every soul
Should receive a toast from us
For bravery!

Bring all the bottles of wine you own
To this divine table--the earth
We share.

If your cellar is empty,
This whole Universe
Could drink forever
From mine!

Let's dine tonight with exquisite music.
I might even hire angels
To play--just for you.

Look!

Hidden beneath your feet
Is a Luminous Stage
Where we are meant to rehearse
Our Eternal Dance!

And what is the price of my Divine Instruction?
What could I ask of you?

All I could ever want
Is that
You have the priceless company
Of Someone
Who can Kiss God,

That you have the priceless gift
Of becoming a servant to the Friend!

Come to my window, dear world--Why ever be shy?

Look inside my playful Verse,
For Hafiz is Barefoot and Dancing
And in such a Grand and Generous--
In such a Fantastic Mood.

------------------------

Would You Think It Odd?

Would you think it odd if Hafiz said,

"I am in love with every church
And mosque
And temple
And any kind of shrine.

Because I know it is there
That people say the different names
Of the One God."

Would you tell your friends
I was a bit strange if I admitted

I am indeed in love with every mind
And heart and body.

O I am sincerely
Plumb crazy
About your every thought and yearning
And limb

Because, my dear,
I know
That it is through these

That you search for Him.

Happy New Year, Everybody!

2009-01-02T22:51:00.027-06:00

First of all, let me correct something in my last blog: Ray baked those terrific dark chocolate brownies from a mix he purchased at Target, not Walmart.

Okay, now that that's taken care of, let me ask you all about the holidays. I hope they brought you happiness and cheer. But, to tell the truth, are you sad or relieved--now that the Christmas frenzy has subsided for 2008?

Normally, I'm sad at the end of the season. In fact, I try to hang onto Christmas as long as I can, playing the songs(my two favorites: "O Holy Night" and "I'll Be Home For Christmas,") leaving decorations up, etc. But, for the first time in my memory, I'm actually relieved the holidays are over for another year.

This year it was nice to remove the outside decorations, take down the tree, scrub everything thoroughly, and clean out a few things to donate to charity. And, the reason for the relief? It was my little homemade cd!

Perhaps I felt extra pressure during the holidays because I'd been working on the meditation and healing cd since October 2008. Initially, I knew I had lots of practice ahead to get myself up to speed with the spoken text AND the piano accompaniment, but I hadn't counted on the need for so much practice.

As I played my new Yamaha piano which was programmed to sound like a harp, I had many false starts. The piece itself was more or less twenty minutes long (improvised anew each time) from start to finish, so for the first several tries, I usually hit at least one wrong key during that time.

Then, I'd have to go back to the beginning since I couldn't stop in midstream and then resume. (I don't even know if I can actually stop, "rewind" and then resume on the Yamaha. We just bought it in September, and there's still so much to learn that I felt I was doing well just learning how to record my music).

Then, the next step was recording my voiceover to the music, and what an experience in patience building that was! I now know why recording studios charge so much per hour (back 25 years or so ago, it was something like $200+ an hour. Somebody please correct me if I'm wrong.) Also, after the first few tries, we had to buy another microphone because the piano's notes were reverberating oddly through the original mike.

With the voiceover, my flubbed-up attempts were too numerous to count, but let me say there were way over one hundred of them. The problems? Inadvertent noise which on the playbacks sounded like sledgehammers, locomotives, roaring tornadic winds and loud scratching, like a frantic cat trying to get in the back door. Some reasons for the above sounds:

1. Barely touching or brushing up against the desk upon which the microphone sat,
2. Brushing against a peace lily plant (which was sitting too close to my desk),
3. Forgetting to turn on the microphone (that didn't happen too often),
4. Stumbling over a word,
5. Reversing the order when it came time to count backward at the end of the recording and
then jumping over a number: 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 4...get the picture? That happened twice!
6. Getting a "froggy" throat,
7. Barely touching the microphone with my finger,
8. Having to cough or sneeze, etc., etc.! During most of this time, pollen was plentiful in
this area.
9. And, the thunderous scratching sound each sheet of paper made when it hit the carpet was
amazing. I had to learn how to gently lay each sheet down, while reading smoothly and
continuing on.

Ray, with his technical expertise, was a tremendous help in this undertaking, and I would have spent much longer with even more frustration had he not generously supported my efforts. So, thank you, my Dear!

But, an experience like this is invaluable because it helps me appreciate even more, anyone who creates-- skilled musicians, creative artists, talented craftspeople, experienced mechanics, homebuilders, etc. It opens up new worlds of appreciation and therefore new worlds of enjoyment!

The one all-important thing I had planned on doing with the cd and the one thing I felt successful in doing, despite the numerous and frustrated attempts, was to make a cd with love from the heart. No matter how many times I began, no matter how much noise frustrated my initial attempts, once I started speaking, I felt as though my words were carrying the love I felt--through to the recipient.

I was hoping that with each play, a certain peace within each recipient would continue to grown and then scatter like the seeds of a dandelion-- in all directions.

(The entire endeavor, including this blog, the cd, etc. are all part of my implementing "who I really am." For those of you who aren't acquainted with the term, being who we really are and remembering who we really are, are important to Ray and me and to others who are on a similar journey.)

So, for much of the holidays, I felt the need to keep recording until I was satisfied with a copy, and that meant hours and hours in a closed-door office.

All in all, though, the entire process was worth it, even if it did occur during Christmas. If I've come up with a decent (to my mind, anyway) copy, one that doesn't sound too amateurish and yet one that conveys acceptance and hope and brings love and healing through the meditating, then I'm happy.

Therefore, relief came with the closing of the holiday season and the completion of the cd, two events that coincided at about the same time.

And, despite everything, it was Christmas after all, and we did enjoy all the rest of it: the visits with family and friends and the time spent at our church, Unity Church of the Hills in Austin, TX. That's what Christmas is all about, anyway.

Love to you all, and may you have the best year ever,

Patricia

p.s. Speaking of church, Ray and I are both looking forward to hearing Bishop John Shelby Spong on January 18.

http://www.johnshelbyspong.com/

http://www.unityhills.org/

Christmas 2008

2008-12-24T00:22:00.004-06:00

Hello Everybody,

Well, the brownies have been baked (a Sam's brand "dark chocolate" brownie mix Ray bought at Walmart --which I didn't have much hope for but thankfully which turned out to be delicious, rich, moist and chocolaty); the cookies have been made, with real butter--crisp Snickerdoodles, and the ubiquitous sugar cookies in Christmas shapes with red, green, and white icing; and finally, the banana cake (from scratch, by the way) with Christmas themes in frosting. My kids weren't expecting a banana cake, but I just felt like baking one, and besides I have to use up all the bananas I've stored in the freezer.

Ray helped me this past fall, when I baked enough pies for both Thanksgiving and Christmas. Fortunately, those just needed to be thawed and baked before tomorrow evening.

We'll take his Mom out for a birthday lunch tomorrow (Christmas Eve) and then go to my family's festivities in Waco later on. Then, on Christmas Day, we travel down to more family in South Austin. And, the Saturday after Christmas, we have Christmas with Ray's Mom and son.

I just wanted to wish everybody a wonderful holiday, and perhaps by writing the above, give myself permission to relax, to know I'm ready, and to enjoy the fun.

Peace on earth and love to you all!

Patricia

Ray's Experience

2008-12-11T23:46:00.002-06:00

Hello Everybody,

When Ray told me about his experience below, I thought about my previous post on this site which featured the video of Jill Bolte Taylor. Her explanation was that when she had the massive stroke, the left brain was so damaged, it couldn’t function properly. Therefore, she believed that because her right brain took over, she perceived a different “reality.”

In other literature I’ve read--Eckhart Tolle’s works, the three volumes of Conversations with God, and others--it is postulated that the ego works as an “inhibitor,” a “protector,” a consciousness we use to keep us from harm. But, in attempting to “protect” us, it also inspires fear, judgment, competition, guilt, qualities that swirl negative thoughts and feelings in and about us and separate us from others. Also, I’ve read (and believe) that we human beings have created this physical reality and order as a challenge for us to overcome. Once we do that, and we really “remember who we are,” we are on our way “home” (one with God).

So, this world, with its joys, pains, and fears, is a reality we’ve created, but the true reality is that we’re all one, that we’re all sacred and divine beings, that we’re all joined together with God in the light. This is my belief. What do you think?
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ray’s “waking dream” on the morning of December 7, 2008
(dictated to me by Ray as he remembers it).

It’s early morning, it’s light, 7:00 a.m. or so, and I wake up. My eyes are closed, but I am awake and thinking about various things, but since I’m awake, I know that this is not a dream. I wasn’t dreaming. As I lay there with my eyes closed, all of a sudden, without any thinking on my part, without trying to go anywhere--my mind was just going from thought to thought--I “see” this small intense white ball of light inside my chest. At that point, I am almost outside of myself, looking at myself, but kind of outside, looking down at myself. But, I’m not just looking at my physical body; I’m looking inside myself also. I could see myself inside. And yet, I am still me, looking inside myself and outside myself, all at the same time.

This small, bright, white, intense, almost laser-like ball of light--as I’m lying there, it starts to grow. And, it grows very slowly and starts to completely fill my chest cavity. It continues from there and continues to fill my body, but not in any kind of sense where the outside of my body is keeping it inside. It is growing as a ball of white, intense light. At the same time, I see outside myself, this intense light from the outside that begins to combine with the light that’s starting to push out of me, and--I don’t know, as I remember--I’m not thinking that it’s coming from anywhere, like a beam of light that enters through my head or anything. All I know is that there’s a light outside myself that is starting to join with the light inside myself, and as they join, the light becomes so intense that it’s like my body kinds of melts into the light. I really can’t see my body anymore.

The light continues to grow. (I’m simply observing. Usually in my dreams, I have a sense that I’m kind of pushing things a certain way, but with this experience, I’m simply a pure observer.) As the light grows, it goes outside of me and fills this space where I am. I am in bed and awake (in this physical reality, I really am awake, and conscious of it), and the light grows, and it grows over to Patricia, and I see the light inside of her growing and joining this light. All of a sudden, her body melts into the light. The light continues to expand. At that point, I become more and more of an observer of all of this from above. Not just from above inside the room, but kind of, almost like an omniscient observer who can see not only the physical things, but everything, the outside and the inside, so that I’m—no, I’m not just an omniscient observer from the outside, it’s like I’m observing everything from inside myself and from inside the light. I think now that this dual “seeing” may have been because I was really awake as I experienced this. But, and I never thought about this before, I never actually opened my eyes the whole time.

I’ve dissolved into the light, and Patricia has dissolved into the light where, even though I’m not an individual anymore--we’ve just kind of melded with this light--there’s still some sense that individually I’m there, and I can see what’s happening. The light grows and grows and goes outside of the house. As it grows, it picks up everything, animate and inanimate: birds, crickets, the concrete. And as it pulls in each of these things, I see the light inside of them going out and joining the light and then every single thing dissolves into the light, and the light keeps growing. I feel this incredible joy, this incredible peace and joy and love emanating from the light both within me and from without. And, when they join, I know without thinking about it, I know this is what it’s really like. What I was experiencing was the reality, but (this will come later) when I did anything other than simply experience or observe it and see this beautiful image with my eyes closed, when I did anything other than that--try to think about it and interpret it--it began to shrink.

I then get this sense that it’s everywhere; it’s going through the whole world, throughout the whole universe, but my eyes are closed, I’m not dreaming, and at some point, I start to think about what this is. I start to “think” about the significance of what I’m seeing. I start to “think” about the oneness that this light is bringing, encompassing everything. The second I start thinking about it, and trying to put some kind of understanding on it, the light shrinks. It backs down, and as it backs down, the birds, house, and the trees out there, they all come back as the light is shrinking. As it’s happening, I realize that it’s shrinking because I’m thinking about it. So, I try to let go again. I’m still lying in bed; I still have my eyes closed. I still know--there’s this inherent sense that I’m not dreaming. I try to let go and just go with the flow and just be a part of it as it happens. So the light starts expanding again, and it encompasses me; it encompasses Patricia; we dissolve into it, and it starts growing again, outside of us, outside of the house. But I can’t keep it. I start trying to analyze again. Just a little piece of me, my mind, starts to think about it, how beautiful it is, the significance of this experience, etc. The second that happens, the light shrinks. This basic process happens two or three more times where I try to back off and let it be and just become a part of it and not think about it, and then I can’t help it, and just one thought, one piece of analysis, or one thing where I’m thinking how neat it is that it’s happening to me, then I just can’t keep it, and it shrinks. When I do anything other than simply experience or observe it and see this beautiful image with my eyes closed, when I do anything other than that, try to think about it and interpret it, then the light starts to get smaller.

I finally realize that I’ve seen something incredible; I’ve felt something incredible; I’ve been a part of something incredible, but I won’t be able to keep it in this physical reality, and so it shrinks, and it goes down inside of me, and I see the little light inside of me which never goes out, but it goes back down to this very bright focused, incredibly bright ball of light inside of me. At the same time, the light that’s outside of me kind of recedes from the room, but I know it’s there. At that point, that’s the last thing I remember, and I just kind of doze off, back into sleep. I don’t remember now whether it was at the beginning of this experience or at the end, but at some point, I open my eyes and look at the clock, and it was something after 7:00 a.m., and, to me, the fact that I look at the clock is part of my confirmation that I was really awake.

Anyway, I just drift back into sleep, and I wake up again around 9:30. When I wake up, I remember every single detail, and I “know” that it had happened, that this was not simply a lucid dream. It was much closer to the surface than that. In fact, it was completely on the surface, except for the fact that my eyes were closed the entire time. My guess is that I was scared of ruining the whole thing had I opened my eyes.

P.S. Regarding different theories of our oneness and, at the same time, our individual souls, and the ideas of our souls somehow merging with All That Is (God): this experience helped me to see something. Before, I couldn’t reconcile the ideas of individuality and oneness; that is, previously the concept of becoming one seemed to be a mutually exclusive concept from that of retaining some kind of separate soul after death (not just after death, but in reality, all the time). But, in this specific experience, I melded totally, completely, with everything else, and yet I still had some sense of me.

And this made me think of Philip Pullman’s His Dark Materials trilogy, of which The Golden Compass is the first book. In the third, The Amber Spyglass, the two child protagonists, Lyra and Will, travel into the earth to rescue deceased people who have been living in a kind of Purgatory, simply waiting, no joy, no movement, stuck until Lyra and Will ‘die’ and come down to ‘save’ them. They lead those who will follow back to the surface. And as they near the entrance to the mouth of the cave where the people will be released, Lyra is given the answer to the question everyone has been asking: What will happen to us when we cross over, from the dark cave into the light of day?

(A bit of explanation before the quote: in this story, each person has his or her personal “daemon” who lives with them and instructs them. You soon realize that these daemons are Pullman’s representation of our souls. But in his reality, souls are physical, and live and breathe and help their human counterparts. And if a daemon “dies” or is killed, it slowly vaporizes into the air.)

All of these deceased persons are asking Lyra what will happen to them when they reach the mouth of the cave and walk into the light of day. And she answers them:

“This is what’ll happen,” she said, “and it’s true, perfectly true. When you go out of here, all the particles that make you up will loosen and float apart, just like your daemons did. If you’ve seen people dying, you know what that looks like. But your daemons en’t just nothing now; they’re a part of everything. All the atoms that were them, they’ve gone into the air and the wind and the trees and the earth and all the living things. They’ll never vanish. They’re just part of everything. And that’s exactly what’ll happen to you, I swear to you, I promise on my honor. You’ll drift apart, it’s true, but you’ll be out in the open, part of everything alive again.” (Philip Pullman, The Amber Spyglass, Laurel-Leaf paperback, 2007, p. 286)

When I first read these words, I knew instinctively that they were true (not in the sense that Pullman has any absolute insight into what happens after death, but rather that the Oneness of the Universe, which I feel in my gut, was faithfully represented. But, as I have said, I had trouble jiving this with the as-strong feeling that wherever we go after death, whatever form that takes, our immutable, individual souls will somehow be a part of things and that the “I” of my soul will somehow remain, one with All That Is yet somehow remaining some kind of recognizable unit. And that paradox, that conundrum, is what seems (for me) to have been worked out with this waking “dream.”

Ray

What an Experience!

2008-12-02T21:58:00.005-06:00

Hi Everybody,

I'm still here; just haven't had the time, with Thanksgiving and teaching ESL classes, to do much with the blog. I miss it and am happy to be back!

Within the last several months, Oprah has had a special series called "Soul Series". Ray has downloaded each one in the series for me before they disappear forever from Oprah's site. Thanks again, Oprah and Ray!

One of the people interviewed was Dr. Jill Bolte Taylor who discussed her book, A Stroke of Luck. It is absolutely amazing, the experience she went through while managing to observe her stroke at the same time (Remember, she's a scientist). She is a neuroanatomist with a strictly left brain approach to everything. I should say she did have a strictly left brain approach to everything.

You might like to view it by popping on the title of this post (above).

Patricia

A New Sound

2008-10-30T15:33:00.004-05:00

Hi Everybody,
We went shopping a couple of months ago for a keyboard. I have a piano which I've played for years, but decided to give it to my daughter and get a new keyboard with all the bells and whistles. It would be somethng new and inspiring, I felt. Also, I am in the process of creating a meditation healing cd, and I would like to experiment with all the available sounds from an electronic keyboard as accompaniment to the cd. I had checked online to see what was available in Casio and/or Yamaha brands, but then we decided to visit the local music store and check out their products.

The Yamahas were beautiful, elegant, and some were priced within our range, but the kicker was that we had to pay for everything extra, even an adapter. We would have to buy a bench, a stand, AND there would have to have a sustaining key jack on the board--all in addition to the keyboard itself, so we politely told the salesperson we had to think about it and left the store, determined to see if we could find a better deal on a Yamaha somewhere else.

The next day, we went to another store and played around with a Casio since their only Yamaha (without any extras) was fairly expensive. The Casio was looking good as we tried out the different sounds: flute, oboe, South American flute, strings, saxophone, and then pressed the button for the various rhythms as the keyboard pounded out beats.

After playing with the keyboard for almost twenty minutes (Ray was having a good time with the buttons), he hit the rhythm button again. The rock beat reverberated throughout the aisle. We tried to shut it off by pressing the button again and again, but it wouldn't quit. So, that kind of decided it for me, and I said ,"Let's look further," and we strolled out of the store, laughing.

In the meantime, we searched online. After looking at keyboards and prices at two online stores, Ray found Kraft Music (online) in Wisconsin. And, Wow!

We ended up ordering a Yamaha keyboard with 76 keys, a stand for the board, a music holder, a nice padded bench, a lesson book, a sustaining key jack AND piano-type pedal) all for less than we would have paid for the same model anywhere else!

We placed our order on Monday, and we received the order with everything on Wednesday. And, with FREE shipping! Everything was perfect. The keyboard is great, and I'm looking forward to playing with it. Oh, yes, it's computer adaptable, too.

I've always had a piano ever since I was in 7th grade, all old fashioned two-ton uprights! But, I loved each and every one! When I was twelve years old, my mother took me for lessons from a Silvis, Illinois teacher, but when the teacher found out I played by ear, he started having me play accompaniment while he played his accordian, soooo the fourth lesson was my last.

I took a semester of piano in college and learned to play "sonatinas," but as soon as the semester ended, I forgot them. I was so accustomed to playing by ear that I never really practiced to keep up my note-reading skills.

The only music that stays in my head is the music that I hear and then play by ear. Strange!! Anyway, when we get Ray a trombone and get together with some friends for an amateur jam session, it should be a hoot! If you like to play a musical instrument, you might consider joining us!
Love, Patricia

A Great Book About Dreams (They're to be felt, seen, and therefore understood).

2008-10-16T22:06:00.005-05:00

Hello Everybody,

It's been exactly one month since I've written anything online. There are really no excuses for my procrastination, but I'll give you some, anyway: a week's vacation to the beautiful Royal Gorge in Colorado, some very welcomed visits from four year-old Ethan, work on a relaxation/healing CD, lunches with friends, suppers with family, and trips around town with my better half; well, you get the idea.

Anyway, here I am to announce to the world--well , to a few readers of my blog, anyway--a book I just finished reading: The History of Last Night's Dream, by Rodger Kamanetz (Harper Collins, New York, 2008). All I can say is "Wow!"

When I start to ask what else there could be that would help people in a profound way, I once again get my answers--and my come-uppances! As I keep looking, I keep discovering. And, it's wonderful to be surprised--again and again and yet again.

This method of dream work is as old as a branch of an ancient Hebrew religion, but was discarded a long time ago. Then, Carl Jung published his ideas about dreams (similar to those of the Hebrews but different from those of Freud), and a permanent split occurred between Jung and Freud. Now, an unprepossessing man by the name of Paul Bregman in Vermont is doing basically the same work with groups at a place called North of Eden. The discussion of archetypes, the anima and the animus in exploring the depths of the psyche is fascinating stuff.

http://www.northofeden.com/.

This method is a new way for contemporary society to look at our dreams, a new way to become aware of ourselves and others, and a new way to not only exist in this world but live fully and completely and happily and lovingly. How's that for a recommendation?

Kamanetz talks about the mistakes we make when we simply interpret dreams in our limited vocabularies and with our preconceived ideas. Instead, we should pay attention to the IMAGERY, the FEELINGS that dreams evoke, the EXISTENCE OF ARCHETYPES in our dreams, and the wonderful knowledge that we're being assisted all the time in doing this dreamwork.

Folks, the Universe, God (whatever your name for a Supreme Being happens to be) is all-loving, all-benevolent, all-understanding, and all-forgiving. If we would only pay attention, we would find--right under our noses--that there are ways we're constantly being helped to improve our lives. Our problem is that we pooh-pooh things that don't fit into our personal little pattern of what life should be. If we'd pay attention and open up to possibilities, our lives could be transformed. Happy Dreaming!

Patricia

Children in Servitude: The Poorest of Haiti's Poor

2008-09-16T21:24:00.002-05:00

Hello Everybody,

The people of Haiti desperately need your help. Many of them had nothing to begin with, and they have even less after Hurricane Ike.

This article describes how children in Haiti are being sold into slavery. A nation so poor that it cannot and/or will not even help their children is a nation that is desperate. As Americans, we don't deserve any prizes for making sure every child is safe from abuse and is cared for, but perhaps that's about to change-- with a new president.

When Barack Obama is president, all the children that have suffered and have fallen through the cracks in the foster care system, in abusive living situations will have a friend in the White House and a better future

When Barack Obama is president, I'm confident that we'll extend a helping hand to countries like Haiti, so its citizens can be fed, educated, and trained until they can reach a reasonable level of prosperity and take care of themselves.

For now, please consider contacting the International Red Cross to donate, and consider specifying Haiti as the recipient of your donation.

That's all for today,

Patricia

An Even Poorer World: New York Times Article

2008-09-14T22:17:00.006-05:00

Hello Everybody,

The New York Times had a very informative editorial on the state of world-wide poverty. Click the above blog title.

It seems that the numbers of those living below the poverty level are much higher than anyone had previously thought. Why can't we, supposedly the richest nation in the world, share our wealth to help the increasing numbers of poverty-stricken people across the globe? Since the numbers of people living below the poverty level have been revised up.....way up, we need to "wise-up" (no pun intended) and address this problem NOW.

The world's poverty, its desperation, its uneducated masses, its hungry children can be helped.

Let's all write our representatives and demand that something be done to really help the less fortunate in the world. Most of us have more than we need. We can do with less. Think of the monies that are used to promote and sustain wars. What would happen if we could eradicate poverty and hopelessness around the world?

What does it take for us to wake up? We must do this in the name of humanity. If some of us need a practical reason to help starving people in other countries, okay, then. How about this? Those who are starving have nothing to lose. Economic collapse, dictatorships, genocide, what's to keep those terrors from spreading to the rest of the world?

For those of us who call ourselves "religious" or "spiritual" or "ethical" or "compassionate" people, and still don't "get it," think about this: it's simply our duty as human beings.

Again, please write your representatives or call them or send them e-mails.

Thank you,

Patricia

Unity Church of the Hills, Austin, Texas

2008-09-07T22:28:00.007-05:00

Hello Everybody,

Ray and I have been attending Unity Church of the Hills in Austin for about three years now. We became members about two months ago, and we never cease to be amazed by the church's friendly and open congregation and its minister Steve Bolen.

His Sunday lesson presentations are authentic and truly uplifting. His honesty and his sincerity shine through. He loves being there, he loves us, and we all respond to that. There is never any doubt on our part that he is speaking the Truth because it resonates with such an impact in our hearts AND in our reasoning minds!

Ray and I have been on our own spiritual journey for several years, and it's a fun trip! We read--and read more, we pray, we meditate, and we try to practice the Golden Rule with love each and every day.

Attending Unity helps us all--to plant the seeds of Truth, Love, Acceptance, Forgiveness, Kindness, and Non-Judgment, to water those seeds, and to see them grow in all our hearts and souls.

From time to time, we need to hear the same truths dressed a little differently until that point comes when they become our truths.

For example, do we really, really understand how necessary and healing forgiveness is? Even towards those who hurt us?

With Steve's references to Masters such as Buddha and Jesus, people like Martin Luther King, Mahatma Gandhi, and Persian poets like Hafiz, we walk out of Church, realizing that we "get it"even more than we did the week before. And, we feel love flooding our beings.

Our minister's natural humanity gives us all permission to be as human, as "divinely" human as we possibly can be, and humor helps him accomplish his goal. One can be "godly" and laugh at the same time. One can make a joke while talking about sacred subjects. God really wants us to be joyful, and I'm telling you that UCOH is an enjoyable place to spend an hour or so each Sunday.

And, the music; oh, the music! Jazz, gospel, rock, traditional, those flavors are all present, and the gifted musicians and singers are superb!

Actually, it's impossible to describe our hour every Sunday. You'd have to experience it for yourself.

One more important thing: Everyone...everyone, regardless of economic status, ethnic background, and/or sexual preference, is warmly welcomed into the Church. If , as a Unity member, I'm guilty of some pride, I'd have to say that it's pride in the Church members' acceptance of everyone. After all, we are all One, you know!

Patricia

Hafiz's Poems (below)

2008-08-30T14:46:00.004-05:00

Hi Everybody,

Check out my latest blog BELOW (Click on "Older Posts") this Garrison Keillor blog. My Hafiz blog had an earlier "draft" date on it, and so far, I can't find a way to move it up to the top. Ray says that there has to be a way, and I agree; I just haven't found it yet. Enjoy Hafiz's poetry!

Patricia

THE DIRECTION OF YOUR FEARS: Excellent Advice by Garrison Keillor

2008-08-23T10:49:00.007-05:00

Hi Everybody,

I took the following right off Garrison Keillor's site. What great advice! You can find his site (A Prairie Home Companion) with this response down on the left side of my blog:

"Dear Mr. Keillor, Hi! I'm a senior in high school and I'm planning on following a career in the performing arts. It's always been a dream of mine to be a part of the show. What I would like to know is how could I possibly join Prairie Home Companion someday, if possible? If not, do you have any tips or hints on becoming a truly dynamic performer? Thanks so much."
Rebecca S.

[Mr. Keillor's answer]

"Push yourself in the direction of your fears, Rebecca, and learn to master things that frighten you —shy persons should learn to get up and speak and sing, clumsy people should do gymnastics, juggling, riding a unicycle. (I didn't do it and I regret that—I'd be a better performer if, in addition to writing, I'd studied dance and picked up a musical instrument and learned how to stand on my head.) You are in your prime learning years and they're not to be wasted sitting in a classroom listening to a teacher blather about things you're not motivated to really learn. The listless passive student sitting in a classroom in order to placate his or her parents—a huge waste of time. Grab hold of your ambition and go with it. Get a job as a tour guide, a good place for a performer to start. You master a body of knowledge and you learn to present it face-to-face to a small group of people and you will know immediately if you're engaging them or not and if you aren't, you'll learn how to improve. I live in an old neighborhood of stately piles, many of which have interesting stories, and ever so often a gaggle of tourists goes by, led by a guide—this is a great performance opportunity that might be better for you than a bit role in a show. Or camp counseling—children are a tough audience. And start building your skills—develop your singing with old show songs, learn to tell jokes, take up juggling, master the tango and the samba, take to the flying trapeze, learn to play the tuba, and keep a daily journal of all your doings. Whatever you do, don't sit and wait for the phone to ring. And when you're ready to take over the radio show, let me know. I've got a few more years and then I'm out of here."
-----------------
Isn't that great? I wish I'd given this advice to my own children when they were teens. Ahhh, so many things we learn too late! They might have felt a bit more freedom in their lives. But, you know what? They're wonderful, intelligent, compassionate people, and how could I ask for more than that?

P.

The Poems of Hafiz

2008-08-20T19:23:00.022-05:00

Hello Everybody,

Two Sundays ago, our minister Steve read some poems from Hafiz, the Persian poet (c1320-1389). As he read Hafiz's lyrics, he was emotionally touched, and then in the next moment he was laughing. Such is the nature of Hafiz's poetry. My best description of it is that it is "divinely human"!"

So, Ray decided we should check out this poet, and we went immediately after the service to the local Barnes and Noble. To make a long story short, we walked out of the store with two of his books. I now have to add his poetry to my other favorites: Percy Shelley, William Wordsworth, Gerard Manley Hopkins, Walt Whitman, Ralph Waldo Emerson.

Hafiz's poetry is awe-inspring. He has such a sense of joy and irreverence altogether combined in his poems. Thanks, Steve!

Ralph Waldo Emerson called Hafiz a "poet for poets" and wrote: "He fears nothing. He sees too far; he sees throughout; such is the only man I wish to . . . be."

Goethe wrote: "In his poetry Hafiz has inscribed undeniable truth indelibly . . .This is a madness I know well--Hafiz has no peer." He also described Hafiz as "mystically pure" and called himself "Hafiz's twin."

Pretty impressive references, don't you think?
-------------------------------------

I can't resist beginning with this poem so typical of Hafiz's humor. Here we go:

Two Giant Fat People

God

And I have become

Like two giant fat people

Living in a

Tiny boat.

Keep

Bumping into each other and

------------------
In the following poem, note the beautiful metaphor of his poems as a "great white flock" of birds being startled by God as He/She becomes Human as we are Divine.

Startled by God

Not like
A lone beautiful bird
These poems now rise in great white flocks
Against my mind's vast hills
Startled by God
Breaking a branch
When His foot
Touches
Earth
Near
Me.

---------------

The following four lines give us the truth that we need to hear over and over and over (sigh) and for century after century (double sigh) until we finally "wake up!" Plus, the promise that it's more fun than anyone can imagine to finally, actually awake, smell the coffee, smell the roses, and touch God.

What is this precious love and laughter
Budding in our hearts?
It is the glorious sound
Of a soul waking up!

--------------------------

And in the following, we have some of Hafiz's irrepressible irreverance! We're all starving for God's love and nourishment; the problem is that most of us don't realize that what the problem is! (-:

Let's Eat

Why
Just show you God's menu?
Hell, we are all
Starving--
Let's
Eat!

------------------

With the following poem, I'm surprised Hafiz wasn't in more trouble with the religious authorities of that time. Or, maybe he was. That'll require more research. Hafiz considers himself one of us-- human beings who are on this magical search for the true meaning of God and life, and it doesn't have anything to do with the rules and regulations of the Church.

And, Hafiz emphasizes that simply because we exist--"through the stairway of existence" (repeated twice)-- we are worthy of love. SIMPLY BECAUSE WE EXIST! I CAN"T SHOUT IT LOUDLY ENOUGH! Note how he refers to himself in the third person.

The Stairway of Existence

Are not

In pursuit of formalities

Or fake religious

Laws,

For through the stairway of existence

We have come to God's

Door.

We are

People who need to love, because

Love is the soul's life,

Love is simply creation's greatest joy.

Through

The stairway of existence,

O, through the stairway of existence, Hafiz,

Have

You now come,

Have we all now come to

The Beloved's

Door.

---------------------

In this next poem, Hafiz with his simple, straightforward statements seems to be saying that the combination of science, spirituality and EVERYTHING ELSE in the universe make up the nature of God, all of which we need to understand to realize that it is an absolute necessity to our existence.

He hints that for students like all of us to have a better grasp of that, we need to listen to our hearts, absolve ourselves (and God) of any blame, clear our brains of clutter, and simply be happy.

Get the Blame Straight

Understanding the physics of God,

His indivisible Nature,

Makes every universe and atom confess:

I am just a helpless puppet that cannot dance

Without the movement of His hand.

Dear ones,

This curriculum tonight is for the advanced

And will

Get all the blame straight,

End the mental

Lawsuits

That

Clog

The

Brain---

Baby!

-------------------
And in the following poem, as God speaks to him, Hafiz who refers to himself as God's "divine envoy" (messenger), pleads with readers, using his own words, as well as God's words, to remind us of the divine nature of humankind and its actions, which are sacred in God's eyes.

Hafiz speaks that the ideas of "right and wrong" which we absorbed from possibly our parents, society, and self-appointed authorities who set themselves up to tell us the difference, we need to lay aside, so that we can live in truth and love.

Can you imagine or actually believe that we are Divine Beings yet? It's kind of hard to take in, isn't it? But, this precious bit of information takes time to absorb. We need to keep being reminded of that, over and over and over, that we are Divine Beings? It has taken me quite a while to really bring that into my soul. It's a process, but I'm doing quite well, thank you.

After living a life, like most people, filled with ample amounts of guilt (I've certainly "thrown sticks at my heart") and regret and feelings of unworthiness, it's wonderful to finally know how God regards me, regards ALL of us. I'm so happy and grateful for the message, every single time I hear it.

Now is the Time

Now is the time to know

That all you do is sacred.

Now, why not consider

A lasting truce with yourself and God.

Now is the time to understand

That all your ideas of right and wrong

Were just a child's training wheels

To be laid aside

When you can finally live

With veracity

And love.

Hafiz is a divine envoy

Whom the Beloved

Has written a holy message upon.

My dear, please tell me,

Why do you still

Throw sticks at your heart

And God?

What is it in that sweet voice inside

That incites you to fear?

Now is the time for the world to know

That every thought and action is sacred.

This is the time

For you to deeply compute the impossibility

That there is anything

But Grace.

Now is the season to know

That everything you do

Is sacred.

----------------------

The Gift: Poems by Hafiz the Great Sufi Master. Translations by Daniel Ladinsky.
New York: Penguin Compass, published by the Penguin Group, 1999.

Author Cards

2008-08-20T18:13:00.010-05:00

Did anyone ever play the card game "Authors?" When my sister, brother, and I were small, a relative gave us a deck of Author cards. Several American and British authors were depicted on the cards with some of their works listed. We loved the game, and the authors came to feel like old friends. Familiarity with them easily led me much later on to decide on a major in English literature and then actually to teach them in a community college setting: Tennyson, Shakespeare, Faulkner, Twain, Hawthorne, Austen, and others of their ilk.

It was the most natural and comfortable feeling in the world for me to enter their dominions and feel at home in the world of poetry and prose. Also, while in college, I took to literary criticism (mostly the "New Criticism") like a duck takes to water. What a logical career choice teaching English was since I had always liked to write stories and essays, as well. Who says a deck of cards couldn't have that much influence on a child?

So, I've ordered a deck from the Vermont Country Store. I plan to introduce our precious four year-old grandson to my old friends--as soon as he's a year or two older. He may not choose English Literature as a major when he gets into college, but he'll surely feel more at home in those required English basics classes.

Eggs and Asparagus Go Soooo Well Together!

2008-08-12T21:32:00.005-05:00

I've used many different vegetables in omelets and fritattas but have never tried asparagus. Usually, I add lots of chopped green pepper and plenty of onion to my egg dishes. Asparagus and eggs sound delicious together and would be a great brunch dish when company comes.

If you ever have a chance to go to Benedict's restaurant in the Addison area of Dallas for breakfast, don't miss it! It was always our favorite breakfast restaurant in North Dallas when my daughter lived there. She lives in Forney now, so we go to the local Denny's when we're up there visiting.

Who Wants to Go With Us?

2008-08-06T15:58:00.003-05:00

Wouldn't you like to hop on a plane and pop over to Nice, France to dine at this vegetarian restaurant?

Beets: The New Spinach

2008-08-06T15:55:00.004-05:00

I've always had a thing for beets! This roasted beet recipe sounds delicious. I haven't yet tried roasting them, and this may be the recipe that inspires me.

New York Times Article by Nicholas Kristoff

2008-08-05T13:38:00.005-05:00

Hello Everybody,

Check out the Nicholas Kristoff article published July 31 in the New York Times (Click the title above). Like Kristoff, I have a farm background and really do appreciate his candor in writing about his feelings toward the geese and other animals he encountered on the farm. I think we farm children have experiences that are unique when the subject of animal cruelty arises.

Ideally, I would like to be a vegetarian, but I still eat chicken, turkey, and fish. I hope I'll evolve further in the next few years!

Adding more meatless protein to my diet is my focus these days: cottage cheese on lettuce with pineapple and French dressing--or Catalina dressing--for breakfast (delicious, if you haven't tried it!), more tofu, edamame, soyburgers, eggs (yes, I still eat eggs!) and other soy products.

Seriously, what can we do to ensure that animals be treated humanely when being raised and then slaughtered for food? I have written to my representatives in Congress several times over the years about this sad situation, but we all realize that money is the bottom line for food processors, and it's going to take a situation where it's more profitable to raise animals humanely. So, everybody, BUY ORGANIC, please! Also, buy eggs where the chickens are allowed to roam, outside of cages.

That said, fortunately there ARE people who raise animals for food who understand the respect animals deserve and need. One chef in the Austin area (sorry, can't remember the date of the article about him or his name when it was written up in the Austin-American Statesman) raises and slaughters animals for the upper-end restaurants here in town, but he does it in a humane way, and they're allowed to roam in large areas on his farm. Still, reading the article made me cringe because I remember too well my days on the farm, where animals were treated like pieces of machinery, with no emotions or abilities to feel pain.

Maybe it's those days on the farm, like Kristoff describes in his article, that really makes me super-sensitive about eating meat (I haven't for perhaps twenty years). The gentle cows I used to milk every morning and talk to regularly, the bull with the mask on so he couldn't see to charge anyone but who was gentle when I'd walk up to him, talk to him, and pet him), the roosters with their various personalities (one would aggressively chase me every day, another would pretend he wasn't going to until I looked the other way, and then he'd charge--maybe that's why I still eat chicken!!), the friendly, stray dogs that were referred to as "tramp" dogs that weren't fed nearly enough and eventually went their individual and sad ways, the pigs that definitely weren't treated with kindness.

And, fifty years ago (that is, if you're old enough to remember), do you remember people buying catfood or dogfood for their pets? I don't. Dogs existed on kitchen "scraps," and cats lived in the barn and drank any milk offered to them at milking time, also surviving on any mice and rats they could catch. Talk about a Darwinian existence!

There were the horses that were ridden and spurred by some people like cars being driven and accelerated, with no sensitivity at all; I remember especially the trailrides and horseshows my parents used to attend where we all noticed the one participant who always managed to draw blood from the mouth of his horse while brutally reining the unfortunate animal in. People would look at him disapprovingly, but to my knowledge, no one said anything to him. In those days, animals had NO rights at all. And, perhaps people were less inclined fifty years ago to "butt into" other peoples' business. Thank you, God, that times have changed and are changing!

Read the article, and perhaps write Kristoff a note of thanks for at least bringing up the subject, even though he still eats hamburgers!

And, while you're at it, drop a note to your senator and your congressperson to work on legislation to ban cruelty to animals in slaughterhouses.

Patricia

p.s. My experience years ago as a U.S. Federal Inspector in meat and poultry inspection is another blog.

The Latest

2008-08-01T22:28:00.010-05:00

Hi Everybody,

It's been busy, busy, busy. We've been working on web sites for a couple of businesses ventures. We actually had some business cards made at Office Depot! Doing that always implies a definite commitment, I tend to believe!

I am recording a meditation/healing cd to sell online. And, Ray and I will be working on our oral history venture: interviewing individuals with stories to tell, transcribing their memories and presenting them with bound copies. We are incorporating a website for this venture, as well.

Also, Ray is going ahead with his proposal to the church to teach a writing class, so he's been working on that. The premise of his proposal is that once you can write honestly about your life, you can then release certain negative memories and feelings. Studies done on "journaling" have demonstrated a definite improvement in mental health through writing.

And, in addition, we have our last training session tomorrow for teaching ESL (English as a Second Language) and/or ABE (Adult Basic Education). The Literacy Council has asked volunteers to commit to at least six months, so if all goes as expected, we'll be conducting classes in either ESL or ABE for a total of four hours per week. We'll know more about specific classes, dates, and times after the church facilitator contacts area schools to find out where there are definite needs.

So, have we gone overboard with projects? We'll see. Perhaps one business venture won't pan out, and we'll concentrate on the other. But, then, that's not a positive approach, is it? (-:

We attended an out-of-town funeral today for the mother of one of Ray's high school buddies. The buddy's mother was eighty-seven years old years old and beloved by all. His other high school friend who lives in the area rode up with us, so after the service, they all had a chance to visit and reminisce. The Baptist Church really outdid themselves with the after-service meal: tender beef brisket, hash-browned potatoes with sour cream and cheese, steamed broccoli and cauliflower, tossed greens, rolls and iced tea.

We saw many acquaintances and friends from our teaching for many years at the local college and from Ray having lived in the area his entire life.

We rode our bikes for twenty minutes tonight. Just starting in again....that twenty minutes was sufficient!

Have a wonderful weekend!

Patricia

This and That

2008-07-23T21:31:00.003-05:00

Hello Everybody,

Today was the usual hot, hot, hot Texas day, but we are getting some clouds from Hurricane Dolly, and as a result, the temps were lowered just a bit this evening--which encouraged me to work some in the yard. With a fifty percent chance for rain tomorrow, we're hoping to catch a few drops in our rain gauge. I managed to do some cleaning up, raking twigs and forest debris (close to the edge of my flower gardens) and piling it all into empty garden soil bags. (The heavy plastic material makes them perfect for stuffing in sticks, limbs, dead cedar branches, etc.)

I've mentioned before that we left a large part of our backyard "natural" with all that implies: scores of cedars, baby and grownup live oaks, red buds, some Texas pistache (pistasche), lanky desert willows, plenty of toads, birds, and lizards, and still hanging on in a few places, some determined poison ivy plants. The woods (our four year old grandson says "the forest") includes downed treelimbs, leaves and everything else that falls and/or grows in a forest. If it's going to be a "natural" woods, it has to include all that. Besides, I could and would never clear out the entire area. We love it, knowing that it's a piece of native Texas property that's never been degraded by a bulldozer. It also affords us wonderful privacy when we go out in the evening and sit on the patio.

The poison ivy I've been successfully battling for two years with Roundup. I have come to respect it since it's so persistent and so hardy! But, it no longer has the power to affect me like it once did. In fact, I've touched it more than once in the past several months, and yet nothing happened. Maybe I've built up an immunity; who knows?

We traveled to Temple today--for me to visit a good friend and for Ray to take his mother out for lunch and to get new batteries for her hearing aids.

Before retiring for the evening, I must include a paragraph or two from Conversations with God because it's so relevant and meaningful.

--------------------------------------------------

"That is what is meant by 'getting back to your senses.' It is a returning to how you feel, not how you think. Your thoughts are just that--thoughts. Mental constructions. 'Made-up' creations of your mind. But your feelings--now they are real.

Feelings are the language of the soul. And your soul is your truth.

There. Now does that tie it all together for you?

[Question] Does this mean we are to express any feeling--no matter how negative or destructive?

[Answer]
Feelings are neither negative nor destructive. They are simply truths. How you express your truth is what matters.

When you express your truth with love, negative and damaging results rarely occur, and when they do, it is usually because someone else has chosen to experience your truth in a negative or damaging way. In such a case, there is probably nothing you can do to avoid the outcome."

Walsch, Neale Donald. Conversations with God: an uncommon dialogue, book 2. Charlottesvile, VA: Hampton Roads Publishing Company, Inc., 1997. pp. 15-16

Jimmy Carter, a National (and an International) Treasure

2008-07-16T21:46:00.012-05:00

Hello Y'all,

I’m dedicating my blogs today to Jimmy Carter, a man of peace and a man who was and is not appreciated and not recognized nearly enough for his honorable and compassionate spirit, his efforts toward world peace and justice, and his sincere love of humankind.

From Conversations with God, Book 2:

“There have been leaders among you who have been insightful enough and brave enough to propose the beginnings of such a new world order…your President Carter, [who] brought your Mr. Begin and Mr. Sadat to come to agreements no one else ever had dreamt of, and who, long after his presidency, pulled the world back from violent confrontation time and time again through the simple assertion of a simple truth: No one’s point of view is less worthy of being heard than another’s; No one human being has less dignity than another.”

Walsch, Neale Donald. Conversations with God: an uncommon dialogue, book 2. Charlottesville, VA: Hampton Roads Publishing Company, Inc., 1997. pp. 199-200

-------------------

My daughter who lives in Dallas sent me an article just today about Carter (link below).

http://news.aol.com/political-machine/2008/07/16/jimmy-carter-was-right/

In the 1979 speech, Carter advocated the following:

“ 'Never use more foreign oil than that which we ourselves produce. --Start massive government investment to develop alternative sources of fuel.--Mandate that utility companies cut their use of oil by 50%, and switch to alternative fuels. --Give $10 billion to strengthen the nation's public transportation system.--Drastically raise CAFE standards for US automakers.' The speech called on Americans to buy energy bonds, so as to take direct ownership in America's energy policy. It advocated personal sacrifice coupled with government action, all of which was ditched by Carter's successor, Ronald Reagan, in favor of the unfettered, free-market approach.”

---------------------------
Isn't it strange how people fear and condemn those who are brave and courageous enough to show the world a new way of thinking, seeing, and feeling? In some cases, they have feared these people enough to try to destroy them. In some cases, they have succeeded.

Have a good tomorrow and...
"Give Peace a Chance"(John Lennon)

Patricia

Bill Moyers' Excellent May 23, 2008 Show

2008-07-10T20:33:00.009-05:00

Hello Y'all,

I have to tell you about a program ("Chemical Fallout") that aired May 23, 2008 on Bill Moyers' Journal on PBS.

"Chemical Fallout," the third and last segment of the show, reports on The Milwaukee Journal Sentinal and its diligent efforts to expose the results of the studies of the harmful chemical, Bisphenol A, results the Administration tried to keep quiet.

In an ongoing investigation that continued over a period of years, the newspaper and its excellent reporters probed, questioned, and harrassed the government for answers. Finally, the editors told the reporters to do their own research themselves on the studies: who funded the studies, what the results were, etc., which they painstakingly did to come up with answers.

Also, you might want to read the text of the second segment (same May 23 show) called "Honoring Our Veterans" about the sad state of health care for veterans and how the Administration has tried to prevent info on military suicides from being published.

Fascinating accounts!

Go to the "Archives" on the site and look for the May 23rd show. http://www.pbs.org/moyers/journal/blog/

Bill Moyers is a national treasure!

Have a cool weekend!

Patricia

Listening to our Feelings

2008-07-04T21:58:00.016-05:00

We humans don't seem to trust ourselves enough to listen to our feelings. We repress them; we rationalize them; we deny them. Then, we wonder why things aren't going as well as we'd hoped and why we feel unhappy with ourselves.

Patricia
--------------------
The following is a quote from Conversations with God, book 2:

Betrayal

of yourself

in order not to betray

another

is Betrayal

nonetheless.

It is the

Highest Betrayal.

Your Shakespeare put this another way:

To thine own Self be true,

and it must follow, as the night the day,

Thou canst not then be false

to any man

Walsch, Neale Donald. Conversations with God: an uncommon dialogue, book 2.
Charlottesville, VA: Hampton Roads Publishing Company, Inc., 1997. p. 97

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If we don't give our feelings the importance and validity they deserve, then how can we ever know ourselves? How can we ever love ourselves? And, finally, how can we ever love others?

It's understandable why we're so afraid of our feelings. To be honest with oneself can be a frightening scenario because if we really listen to our hearts, and our hearts tell us some changes are overdue, fear enters into the picture. We don't want to risk doing what we know we need to do to.

Feelings can tell us when a relationship isn't working. Feelings can tell us we need to change jobs, or change locations, or change friends. It may work for a few years to deny the truth, but what a glorious thing when we listen to our hearts and take the risks we need in order to be whole and happy.

Total honesty with ourselves is the only answer.

Patricia
--------------------

Another relevant quote from Conversations with God, book 1:

"First, let's exchange the word talk with the word communicate. It's a much better word, a much fuller, more accurate one. When we try to speak to each other--Me to you, you to Me, we are immediately constricted by the unbelievable limitation of words. For this reason, I do not communicate by words alone. In fact, rarely do I do so. My most common form of communication is through feeling.

Feeling is the language of the soul. If you want to know what's true for you about something, look to how you're feeling about it.

Feelings are sometimes difficult to discover--and often even more difficult to acknowledge. Yet hidden in your deepest feelings is your highest truth.

The trick is to get to those feelings. I will show you how. Again. If you wish."

Walsch, Neale Donald. Conversations with God: an uncommon dialogue, book 1.
New York: G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1996. p.3

A Busy Weekend

2008-07-01T00:46:00.004-05:00

What a busy three days this past weekend was!

First of all, I never thought I’d ever join another church (my last experience so many years ago as a very young mother with three small children wasn’t a very pleasant one, shall we say?) I had joined a small country Presbyterian Church in Illinois expressly for the purpose of having our children baptized. In those days, I put tremendous pressure on myself to be the proper wife, proper mother, and proper citizen, and of course, that included going to church. My then husband had the good sense to only attend once in a while, not being nearly as guilt-driven. I had always felt different as a child because I didn’t attend church or Sunday School like my friends did (my mother had been a practicing Catholic, and my father’s mother was a Congregationalist, but his family didn’t go to church, and neither did he). Soon, after my parents were married, my mother stopped attending church. I was convinced that there was something wrong with us for going so against the norm. So, after I grew up and had children, I determined they were not going to go through what I went through. I wanted them to fit in and to feel accepted (since I still worried about what others felt). It turns out that my children didn’t enjoy their church experience and later would turn out to be non-church goers and perfectly happy with it, so who knows? They are good, kind, and decent people, and that's what's important.

Well, the members of that small congregation, all older than I, immediately signed me up to represent them at some large region-wide meeting. I had never done anything like that in my life, and I was really put off, to put it mildly, also too inexperienced to handle something like that. Also, I had misunderstood what they had actually done and didn’t, therefore, show up for some meeting. That didn’t go over too well, to say the least. Later, there was a misunderstanding with the minister when it came time to baptize our baby. They had grossly misspelled our name in the church bulletin the week before, and I didn’t realize that we were the ones scheduled for the visiting minister to come the following week and do the job. (Our regular minister was still in training.) Well, you get the picture. We didn’t attend that Sunday that was scheduled for us, and the regular minister wasn’t very happy about that. I guess you could say that communication channels between me and the church weren't operating very effectively. All the way around, it was a minor disaster.

Ray, the lovely man to whom I’ve been married for seven years, had resolved not to join another church, as well. When he was married to his ex-wife, he served as elder and member of the Presbyterian Church Session (the church board), he taught a liberal adult Sunday School class for twenty years, and he was active in the Meals on Wheels program. He served several terms as Chairman of the Christian Education Department, which meant overseeing the Sunday School, teachers, and the curriculum, and he planned several church weekend retreats, as well as discharging other responsibilities. Growing up in a strict church-going family, he carried around his share of guilt, as well as worry about what other people thought, just like I did. Like many good-hearted people, he also wanted to help, and sometimes had a problem saying "No."

After five years of marriage, we were still planning to keep our lives simple and uncluttered with as few extracurricular activities as we could manage, just so we could concentrate on each other, our family, and our friends. Also, we wanted to be of service to the community and figured that would all work itself out. But, we hadn’t counted on the Unity Church of the Hills in Austin.

I had first attended the Unity church several years ago and had wanted to attend again. So, living fifty plus miles from Austin, we were making a hundred mile round trip to the church almost every Sunday for a couple of years until we moved down here two years ago. Since Ray had grown up attending church, he welcomed the familiar Sunday pattern, and we began to attend fairly regularly. Ray soon joined in my amazement that there could be such a warm and welcoming attitude from a congregation. We felt energized and happy after service each Sunday. The sermons were about NOT being burdened by guilt or by what other people thought, but about forgiveness of oneself and others, nonjudgment, and loving oneself and others. The messages of total love, total acceptance, total joy, total nonjudgment, and total forgiveness were very freeing for us.

Even though we were ready to volunteer, our resolution not to join the church changed when Steve, the new minister, came about five months ago to replace the lovely couple (husband and wife ministers) who moved out of state. They moved back to their hometown for a well deserved partime retirement. Steve had such a refreshing attitude about him that we could hardly believe he was real, at first. He is of retirement age, but how premature it would be for him to retire with what he has to offer. He’s open and energetic to the world; spontaneous, he makes people laugh and cry. He is so human as to make other people seem like robots, in contrast. Warm and compassionate, he is not afraid to laugh at himself or to crack jokes and sound irreverent every now and then. His weekly messages are so inspiring, so full of hope, so full of total acceptance toward everyone that people, overcome with emotion, regularly and surreptitiously reach for the little packets of tissue that adorn the backs of the pews.

The congregation goes out of its way to welcome every single soul, some (gay people) whom I’ve personally heard discuss their lack of acceptance at certain other churches. The incredibly talented singers and musicians pretty much “raise the roof” every Sunday. In fact, before the service starts with the religious music (which can get pretty exciting, as well), the musicians play pop and jazz tunes. They may be trying to “disguise” the pop songs with their improvisations (I wouldn’t swear to it), but it’s fun to correctly guess the titles of the songs. With all its out-of-this-world energy, it’s just a delightful place to be.

So, we joined. This past Friday night we attended the dinner for new members, and it began as most social functions do, with lots of small talk and people introducing themselves to us. Board members and other members of the church welcomed the new members and took every opportunity to make us all feel at home. Making small talk was never my forte, so I hadn’t looked forward to all the chit-chatting. My favorite part was later that evening when the new members were asked to stand and tell a little about themselves and their reasons for choosing Unity Church of the Hills.

There were many interesting stories, and as each person related his or her reason for joining the church, they included one woman who started to cry when she talked about feeling such acceptance. And a young husband shed some tears when he talked about his feelings when at church. So, it was amazing and heartwarming to us when we found out that all these other people felt the same way we felt--that this was the warmest and most welcoming experience we’d ever had at a church.

Then, yesterday (Sunday), all of us went up on stage during the service for a brief welcoming ceremony for new members. Steve made it a very meaningful experience, as usual. The glow from the entire experience was powerful, and remained with me for a long time after.

Sunday afternoon our family came for dinner. I had carefully prepared lasagna the day before, and we added a green salad, toasted garlic bread, fruit salad, apple pie and chocolate chip cookies for dessert. So, everybody feasted! Now, we have our little four-year-old ggrandson with us this week since his Montessori school is closed for the week. We haven’t had him visit for quite a while and are really enjoying the experience. What a joy he is! I’ve been throwing him a Nerf baseball, over and over, so he can practice with his little bat. Also, the Thomas the Train site has greatly expanded their online games for children, so we enjoyed that also. And, he conned me into reading him four books tonight at bedtime! He didn't really have to persuade me that much!
The weekend was a busy one, as this week promises to be, as well. Thank you, God!

Bartholomew on Identifying Ourselves

2008-06-28T00:01:00.005-05:00

You do not have to destroy every cloud to see the sky. All you have to do is keep remembering that you are the Sky. You find what you are looking for, which is the truth that You Are the Sky Itself. And you can experience this because it is true! Since you have misidentified yourself in the first place, you have the capability of re-identifying yourself. You thought yourself into this, and you can think yourself out of it! You are not all the polarities you think you areYou do possess them in some measure, but they move through you. You will never, ever clean up your clouds sufficiently, my friends. There will always be a little dark one that you can't quite get at. There will always be one somewhere that you can't quite reach. Just let it be.

Just continue what you are doing. Start feeling yourself as the Vast Sky, and let the clouds do what they do.

Bartholomew. From the Heart of a Gentle Brother.
Carlsbad, CA: Hay House, Inc., 1987.

I Get it Now

2008-06-22T17:46:00.017-05:00

I’m reading Conversations with God by Neale Donald Walsch and am fascinated by the content; in fact, I don't want to put the book down. It goes into considerable depth as to God’s purpose in creating the Universe and souls and also explains why we're all here trying to do our best on this beautiful planet. The book is very readable, a bit easier to read than my alltime favorite, the books of Seth, which are wonderful, but at times, complex, especially when he gets very technical. I have read (sometimes slogged through) all of Seth’s books at least twice and have learned so much from them, so I’ll probably read them all a third time to see what I missed the first two times around!

Seth also discusses All That Is (God), multiple realities, probable personalities, creating our own realities, and much more! Up to this point, and after reading dozens and dozens of books on spirituality over the past fifteen years, I’m so glad I found Conversations because it may turn out to be as enlightening as Seth’s books.

Journey of Souls and Destiny of Souls, psychologist Michael Newton’s books, are also very memorable--and informative. He's written about his hypnosis regression cases from the past two or three decades. Fascinating stuff and even more interesting the second time around!

And, how can I forget the books of Bartholomew (I Come As a Brother, From the Heart of a Gentle Brother, and others)whose gentle words have soothed my soul? Again, the messages are the same, but like other authors with different personalities, Bartholomew has his own distinct style. He speaks with a gentleness and tenderness, not unlike a loving grandmother. When I read books again, I find things I didn’t remember reading (or didn’t quite "get") the first time around. Hmmmm....Does this happen to other readers?

Twenty years ago, books like those above didn't impress me at all. I would obligingly skim through them simply because a friend enthusiastically recommended them; however, I couldn't really get too excited about them. The messages all seemed to say the same thing. In fact, I could almost predict what each book and/or its affirmations would say. They certainly didn't seem to have much to offer me.

But, now, after a few more life crises, like Stage IV cancer and another divorce several years ago, I really opened up. I learned I'm vulnerable; my arms are wide open, and I'm like a formerly recalcitrant child who grows up to realize her parents were smarter than she thought. Now that I've opened this new door to another way of awareness, I can never go back.

For most of my life, beginning with my teen-aged years, I was always curious about why people behaved the way they did. I worked at the VA hospital for psychiatric patients in another city and really enjoyed interacting with the patients. I took several more psychology courses and almost became a therapist with my more-than-average knowledge of psychology. It was always a hobby of mine to figure out people and their actions (mine, my family, my friends and even some ancestors that I knew something about and to see how certain behavioral traits ran through successive generations). And, while I think psychology has a tremendous amount to offer, there are some places in the human heart it just can't reach.

One thing I've learned is that meditation can actually dissolve anger and fear, and this practice and then awakening has brought tremendous peace and joy to my life. Previously, I knew exactly why I experienced unpleasant emotions in my life, and where they came from, but that wasn't quite enough to solve everything.

Now, I very seldom get "stressed out" by the conflicts of everyday life, even from those of my children and grandchildren. After some brief periods of normal worry and consternation, I then figure out how I could help the situation in the best way possible. I (We) give them my (our) wholehearted support and then let it all go. Since the Universe/God is truly beneficent, we trust that all will be well. It's tremendously freeing, and my family is helped more this way because they're receiving positive energy and prayers instead of worry and frustration.

I now continue my search for answers about God, souls, creation, heaven, and what we would call ethical issues. Sometimes, sprituality has quite a different take on these issues than does traditional religion. Unlike certain branches of the Christian Church, for example, I don't believe that homosexuality is evil, and I don't believe in war. My eyes are now wide-open to the fact that these same-old, same-old messages/answers in all those spirituality books that always sounded so boring are in actuality vibrant and crucial to our well-being, AND they really work.

Duh! I finally understand that, of course, the messages are similar because the Truth has to be repeated over and over, for millenia, to thick-headed human beings like me. Finally, because of these various books, tapes, and movies, because of modern technology and faster communication, as well as a much higher literacy rate , more and more souls are starting to "get it."

The more highly evolved authors are ones who haven't let their egos take over to strive for money and power. Think of Edgar Cayce (his books and the various biographies) and Eckhart Tolle (author of The Power of Now, A New Earth, and others), two very modest men who weren't and aren't interested in getting rich, just helping the human race with their messages.

Not all authors are able to speak the truth, so one has to be discriminating in one's search. I've developed a certain talent for tuning (and I'm constantly fine-tuning this ability) into what's genuine and what isn't. These truths--these words of wisdom written by authors who were and are sincere and who have had the welfare of all living things in mind can be understood by keeping an open mind, by reading, by praying, and by meditating. If we take these messages more seriously, we will be helped by them. By doing so, we could not only save ourselves a lot of precious time, but save the planet, as well.

What an exciting journey, this search for Truth!

Patricia

Dry Weather, A Birthday Party, and Books

2008-06-21T23:04:00.007-05:00

Friday

Hello Y'all,
The sky was overcast today in Central Texas, which caused us to feel thankful in these blistering, sunny days. Maybe the slightly cooler air won’t pull so much moisture out of the thin, stony soil surrounding us. I got out the watering hose to begin my odyssey across the front yard today, section by section. I took care of the back yard yesterday, and it took all day to move the hose for 35 minute showers on various parts of the yard.

In the front yard, however, the St. Augustine grass, the Leyland Cypress, the Burford Hollies around the little circle of natural “woods” and the hollies at the side of the yard--not to mention the African Iris, white lantana and assorted plants directly in front—their gratitude seemed evident. I could almost hear their relieved sighs as they looked up at the cool showers from the hose, and I felt refreshed, myself. And, that was just in the front yard!

Saturday

Hello Ya’ll,
Today, we drove about 90 miles to a family birthday party in Waco. There were lots of people, so we sat outdoors under a shaded patio with fans blowing on us. The birthday boy, a 13 year old who’s grown two feet, I swear, in the past year received from the assembled guests a grand total of $300! Times have changed since we were kids!

My husband and I gave him a set of books (Philip Pullman’s His Dark Materials Trilogy) since he loves to read (which makes us very happy). Ray is reading and absolutely enthralled by The Golden Compass which basically is marketed to young adults. (We enjoyed seeing the movie a few months ago). However, Ray is finding it perfectly suitable for mature adults, as well! It addresses issues of multiple realities and since it’s a novel, it’s helping people to think about these kinds of issues (quantum physics, etc.) that scientists are studying. And, Ray adds that “Contrary to some negative press releases and reviews of the movie, the book and the movie are not anti-spirituality.” However, the novel does delve into certain control issues of established religion. But, we both feel that traditional religion since it is an authoritative institution with much control over people's lives should always be challenged and questioned, so that people can get honesty and the truth from their faith, instead of being burdened with crushing fear or guilt.

Hot Summer Days, Balmy Summer Nights

2008-06-17T22:24:00.005-05:00

Hello Y'all,

This past week has been hot, hot, hot here in Texas. We’ve had over thirty days (the weather lady said) of record breaking heat. Many days we’ve dealt with 100 degrees or even 103 degrees, and it’s just mid-June. We don’t have a dry heat here; it's quite humid in Central Texas. But, I still can’t let the heat (and an aching back) keep me from puttering around outside, watering my zinnias, my new verbenas, the huge tomato plants (without many tomatoes, but hey, they look great!), and my okra seedlings planted here and there--wherever I could find some extra space throughout our quarter-acre yard. We’ve got a “woods” (I mentioned in an earlier blog) out in back, and I’ve got the circumference ringed with a bricked-lined flower garden, so there isn’t an awful lot of grass to mow.

I draped a piece of very light screen over a fairly new fig tree, just two years old, which has already early this spring, produced eight tiny figs. However, the number has dwindled down to two larger figs. I don’t know if the birds have been sampling them, and I haven’t seen any fruit or partially pecked fruit lying on the ground, but it would be nice to taste just one fig this summer. Of course, we have encouraged birds to come visit our yard with the bird feeder hanging on the porch, so we can’t blame them. I just put out a much appreciated bucket of water at the side of the house for the birds and toads and whoever else is thirsty (hopefully, far enough away from a sleeping Miss Kitty who is getting so old she doesn’t seem to have the energy to stalk birds anymore).

I went down to the local nursery this morning and bought three crape myrtles. It’s possible now, as I'm sure all your gardeners know) to buy different sizes: 2-3 ft., 4-5 ft., 10-15 ft., and 20 ft. I bought the tall, red bloomed trees called Dynamite. I’m excited because I researched how to propagate these trees, and it doesn’t seem too difficult, though we'll see what happens. I have visions of rows of bright red crape myrtles paired with mid-sized purple myrtles, with some white ones, maybe the 2-3 ft. shrubs, thrown in for good measure. First things first, though. I have to get these three planted.

Oprah was talking the other day about the “best sandwich” she’s ever eaten. I went to Oprah.com to get the recipe. As a guest, she had been served the turkey sandwich down at Mar-a-Lago (Donald Trump’s sumptuous place in Florida (which at one time belonged to Marjorie Merriweather Post). The recipe calls for chutney and Granny Smith apples. I had never used chutney in a recipe before, and I’m eager to see what the burgers taste like. Oh, the recipe also called for one tablespoon of pepper, two tsp. Tabasco sauce, and of course, the chutney is spicy. I only put in one tsp. of pepper, for starters. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marjorie_Merriweather_Post
http://oprah.com/

I started watering the lawn again tonight (I last did it a full week ago, but seems like yesterday). A full moon is beaming down over Austin, and the night critters are chirping up a storm; in fact, it’s almost deafening in the backyard. A lovely breeze is blowing, and after a temperature today of over 100 degrees, it’s a relief. These Texas nights aren’t cool OR hot, just warm, and very pleasant. When I first came to Texas some 35+ years ago, I couldn’t get over the nights, the tender, balmy nights with the soft breezes. I swore then I’d never take these Texas nights for granted, and I never have.

Our Trip to Dublin - Parts 4 (below Part 5) and 5 - The Final Chapter

2008-06-10T19:46:00.006-05:00

Our Trip to Dublin - Part 5 (final chapter) Not only do the homes have old stone fences, but these ancient looking stone fences are built all over the city, including the City Centre.. They really contribute to the city’s “old” look.

The next day we signed up for the “southern” tour which included a southerly tour of the Dublin Bay and Powerscourt Castle and grounds. http://www.trekearth.com/gallery/Europe/Ireland/photo895915.htm http://www.powerscourt.ie/gardens/house/history.htm This may have been the highlight of our trip. It was absolutely gorgeous, and we took many pictures. Driving to the castle through the Wicklow countryside, we traveled on mountain roads, and our bus driver for this particular tour had to navigate the little narrow and winding two lane highways again, but he was a “pro”.
This bus driver (compared to the bus driver on the Malahyde tour) knew more songs and jokes and gave us more information (of the literary and pop culture type).

I took lots of pictures from the bus (some turned out halfway decent; some didn't). Powerscourt Castle was incredible for its extensive grounds and many gardens, some with flowering shrubs, such as azaleas, and for the amazing diversity of trees (some giants), flowers, and shrubs. Tuesday, we went to Merrion Square, a beautiful park where the statue of Oscar Wilde resides in all its insolent glory! There was a square boxy “sign” across from the statue with many of his quotes. I tried to photograph all of them on all sides, but I think we’ll be able to read only some of them. We loved Wilde's rather arrogant expression! http://www.erasmuspc.com/index.php?id=18172&type=article

We heard cooing behind some trees and discovered some very, very large pigeons that are called “wood” pigeons. There also were interesting looking black and white birds all over the park. (I haven’t found their names yet.) http://www.inspire.net/trees/fact%20pages/planetree_london/planetree_london.html

We had a light lunch and then went back to pack for our next day's flight. After arriving at the Dublin airport early for our 11:25 flight, we were told that our plane would be five hours late. With the late plane, and then the crew also late in arriving, it was 6:30 p.m.(actually seven hours late) by the time we flew out of Dublin. This time, we had daylight all the way to the states (eight hours). We were flying in a westerly direction where the sun never set, just hovered over the horizon. Six hours or so later, we could make out the terrain and the many lakes of Newfoundland.

Then, Ray discovered that not only could we watch movies, television shows, documentaries, and play games, and listen to music, but we could also track our plane. We watched as our plane traveled south over New York and finally down to Atlanta. (I had fun competing with other passengers on a trivia game, and I'm immodestly admitting I won two out of three times!)

I hadn’t been to the Atlanta Airport in 35 years or so and had forgotten how huge it was. There still was the “subway” type transportation inside the terminal. The airport staff was very efficient, and we were through Customs and Security in no time.

Of course, we had missed our connecting flight to Austin, so Delta put us up in a hotel for the night. We only had time for about 5-6 hours sleep before our flight went out in the morning, but it was wonderful to finally rest in a comfortable bed since we had been up twenty four hours.

Next morning came, it was a beautiful day, and we boarded a small jet for Austin. As I mentioned, we had carry-on luggage, but this time, with the small plane, the attendants told us they didn’t think our two bags would fit in the overhead rack or below our seats. Ray wasn’t going to give in that easily, and we just carried them on and fit one of them under our seat. The attendant took the other one and stashed it for us until we reached Austin.

After flying in to Austin, we walked out to the parking lot, and it was lovely to see our familiar Avalon sitting there waiting for us. We stopped by and picked up Harry at the pet boarding place on the way home. Miss Kitty was glad to see us, a little miffed, though, but she soon came round.

How great it is to be home! ----------------------------- More impressions:

The Irish walk and ride their bicycles (okay, we knew that) and many more take public transportation, AND perhaps it was because Dublin is the capital, we saw men of all ages, wearing black suits and ties, walking and riding bicycles, Also, there were many groups of young men walking around. Perhaps it’s because they have so many young, unmarried workers filling all the jobs in their booming economy, especially their technology businesses.

checked some statistics and found that approximately fifty percent of all Irish people are under the age of twenty five! I noticed fashion more than Ray: Young professional women briskly walking in black suits (either skirts or pants) and 2 and ½ inch black heels (not stiletto); young women with jeans tucked into their boots; private school girls and boys wearing the requisite uniforms; a few Gothic types, and then the rest of the population: tall, short, plump, slim, in jeans and sneakers, all kinds of clothing, in fact, indistinguishable from Americans. Most all the women wore hose. Some young people who were dressed casually, wore long black hose with shorts. A few elderly ladies dressed nicely in color matched suits, hose and shoes.

We were amazed at the many diverse accents we heard. Our hotel clerks were German and possibly Polish (or Russian); the girl behind the counter at McDonald’s had an accent; We saw East Indians, Orientals, and Africans in the crowds on the streets. There is a town in Southern Ireland which has a Nigerian mayor.

It was interesting and impressive to know that there are official government programs in place for planning and coping with any problems that might occur because of such a rapid influx of immigrants. Ireland evidently is a very forward-thinking and progressive nation. Ireland’s economy has been booming for the past several years. In fact, the country refers to itself as the “Celtic Tiger.” Dell is one among many technology plants that are in Ireland. Ireland needed skilled workers, so the big change now is that they’re gaining, not losing, people, as had been the case for a long time. http://www.migrationinformation.org/Profiles/display.cfm?ID=260

O’Connell and Grafton Streets were packed with human bodies. On Saturday, the streets were every bit as crowded as in Times Square, New York, when we were there last July. McDonald’s on busy O’Connell Street had a security guy standing in front of the stairs leading down to the dungeon-like bathrooms. If desperate tourists came in off the street just to find a bathroom, they were out of luck! Burger King, just a few doors down the street, had a larger seating area upstairs, with a giant curved window and no security person stopping bathroom users.

Younger people seemed to speak quickly, so that with their accent, they were sometimes hard to understand. Older people, especially our two tour guides, spoke at a reasonably paced speed (to us, anyway) In fact, it was just like listening to Barry Fitzgerald, the old Irish actor in one of his memorable movie roles.

The guides sang old Irish songs, gave us jokes and gossip (especially when we were driving through the “posh” area where Bono and his wife have a home. Our second tour driver mentioned that Bono’s wife was thinking of running for Mayor of Dublin. The world has shrunk, for sure.

Oh, and one more thing: I can’t let Ray have all the notoriety and fun of falling off a stool; I was walking through the “no duty” gift area when I took a spectacular spill myself in the Dublin Airport. I was coming down some steps in the hallway, didn’t see the last step, and flew through the air, landing in one ungraceful heap in the middle of crowds of people! Mortified, I was trying to get my bearings when a nice gentleman came over and kindly asked, “Are you okay?” So stunned by the fall and so eager to get out of there, I mumbled, “Yes, but I didn’t see that last step.” Regrettably, I didn’t thank him and hope he understood that I just wanted to disappear into the crowd. But, I left, thinking that my premonition had come true. I was worried about taking a spill the entire time we were in Dublin, and it finally happened. Probably, what really happened was that I created my own reality. Anyway, I told Ray when I got back to the Gate that it was the easiest fall I’d ever taken in my life, no repercussions at all! What a trip we had, in more ways than one!

Our Trip to Dublin - Part 4

Leaving the mall, we walked out onto a very busy Grafton Street, open only to pedestrian traffic. We kept coming across places I had researched, such as Davy Byrnes Pub, (mentioned in James Joyce's novel, Ulysses) where we stopped for a light and delicious lunch of tomato basil soup with brown bread and butter. There were some funny little stools at the table, and Ray lost his balance and toppled off one. I don’t know if anyone would have believed we hadn’t drunk anything!
http://www.dublinevents.com/dublin-bars/davy-byrnes.php

Every street sign, store sign, all printed material was in English AND in Irish. And, we saw that classes for instruction in the Irish language were listed in the newspaper. Since the English tried to ban the Irish language, the Irish in the Republic of Ireland feel very strongly about their native language.

The friendly waitress at Davy Byrne’s gave us directions for the closest bus stop (in front of Trinity College). We used that particular bus stop the rest of our time in the City.

The next morning after breakfast, we took the bus to the tourist office on O’Connell Street and booked a half-day tour of the northern reaches of Dublin and Malahyde Castle. http://hjem.get2net.dk/Shaun-og-Susanne/malahyde.htm

Malahyde Castle and its grounds were very impressive. It was furnished in 18th century décor. The castle had been owned and lived in by the Talbot family for 800 years until 1975 when the last Talbot died. The grounds were huge. The dark paneling in the dining room and the length of the dining table reminded me of the time Sue and I visited the Hearst Castle in California.
After that we toured along the Dublin Bay coastline, seeing many types of Irish homes, apartments, and shops along on the Bay.

Our Irish driver kept up a line of humorous patter for 3 and ½ hours while driving on narrow two-lane roads in heavy traffic. We sat on top of the double decker, and every time the bus turned a corner, it seemed we were way over in the other lane, crushing whatever unfortunate cars were in front of the bus. But, nothing happened, and we were delivered back safely.

On O’Connell Street, there is a “Penney’s.” We didn’t know if it was the same as our J.C. Penney or not, so we decided to go in. I’ve never seen so many people in one store rummaging through merchandise which was all in disarray. It wasn’t nearly as orderly as our Penney’s. We didn’t see too many large department stores, so that may be why the Irish Penney’s was so popular. When we asked about restroom, the saleslady said that they didn’t have any, but that there were some next door, at the bookstore, —up on the third floor. At a bookstore on O'Connell Street, we bought a Django Reinhardt CD album, a really good one. There were all kinds of American music for sale, even a special section of “oldies.” (Bing Crosby, Andy Williams, etc.)

You might say, “What??” when you learn that we went to McDonald’s, but hey! we were just hungry for a small salad, sandwich and fries.

Saturday: We took the bus to Eden Quay across and alongside the River Liffey this time and then walked the short distance to O’Connell Street where we did some shopping. Then, it was back across the bridge to Trinity College where we saw The Book of Kells and the Old Library.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/davidwilkins/415842009/ http://www.paddi.net/images/longroom.htm .

The decorated pages and text of the New Testament were illuminated and enlarged on the walls. The images were beautiful. Then, we saw the Book itself. Ireland is very proud of this relic and justly so. http://www.snake.net/people/paul/kells/thumbnails

The Old Library ceiling was very, very high with shelves of books all the way to the ceiling. We also saw an 18th century Irish harp, supposedly the one that inspired the Irish to adapt and to use it as their official symbol—on their coins and elsewhere.

Sunday: Went to Christchurch; http://www.flickr.com/photos/amundn/566209527/ Beautiful! You just have to see the pictures. Words don’t do it justice.
http://www.dublintourist.com/details/christchurch_cathedral.shtml
http://www.cccdub.ie/

The red-robed choir was rehearsing their program, a welcome bonus. Previously, we had seen the choir director and one choir member outside the church, having a smoke before rehearsal, an interesting sight! There are many smokers in Ireland; oddly enough Ireland is one of the first countries in the European Union to outlaw smoking in workplaces and in pubs, which caused a quite a furor among pub-goers. http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/europe/3500375.stm

We began walking again and found ourselves on little side streets, such as Cow Lane. We discovered that there is an actual hill in the Temple Bar District. What we had seen of the rest of Dublin was fairly flat. On a one of these cobblestoned side streets, we found another internet cafe and checked our e-mail for the day.

As we continued walking, we passed part of another ancient church, St. Audeon’s. http://www.startpage.ie/Ireland/Galleries/StAudeonsChurch/St-Audeons-Church-01.aspx
http://www.frommers.com/destinations/dublin/A19782.html

We found Bridge Street and then, ready for an Irish meal, finally came upon the Brazenhead Pub. (This pub actually was our destination, but we tend to wander a bit before we get to where we’re headed.) http://www.brazenhead.com/

Walking into an open courtyard where people were sitting and drinking beer, we saw three barrooms off the courtyard. Inside the bars, it was a little difficult to find a vacant table, but we finally did.

Our meal: Salmon, creamed potatoes, fresh carrots and peas for me and fish and chips for Ray. All were delicious. I had a glass of wine and a glass of water. Ray had a 7-UP. The small glass of water cost about 2.80 Euros! Ray nearly fell off his chair again! After dinner, we walked back to Trinity College and took the bus back to the hotel. But, before we got to the bus, we passed Dublin Castle and got some pictures of it.
http://www.google.com/search?hl=en&q=dublin+castle&btnG=Google+Search

Our Trip to Dublin - Part 3

2008-06-09T19:06:00.009-05:00

We soon learned that we had to be very careful crossing streets, alleys, and/or small lanes because cars came at us from an unaccustomed direction. (Irish drivers, of course, drive on the left side of the road) . And, there were very few blocks that weren’t broken up by a street or an alley, many times connecting to the main street at diagonal angles, sometimes several crossing at one intersection. All of Dublin’s byways were paved or cobblestoned, no matter how big or small: Temple Court, Brunswick Street, Cuckoo Lane, Arbor Hill, Fountain Road, Halliday Square, Arbor Hill, Sheas Court, Drumalee Road, Marlborough Mews, Cabinteely Way, Cabra Drive, Annamoe Parade, Bedford Row, even Cow Lane. As you can guess, I’m fascinated by names of byways!

Also, there weren’t street signs as we know them. If there were buildings on the corner, the street sign might be printed on the buildings, but if there weren’t any large buildings, there were no street signs. Often, we took educated guesses as to how to reach our destinationand most of the time had no problems.

The bountiful English breakfast served us every morning took us quite nicely through most of the day: A huge bowl of scrambled eggs, trays of sausage, ham, roasted whole peeled tomatoes, grilled mushrooms, three kinds of cereal, croissants, toasted wheat/white bread, jams and jellies, creamed cheese, butter, a big bowl of fresh sweetened grapefruit sections, one of Mandarin oranges, and one of prunes. There were three kinds of juices (delicious freshly-squeezed orange juice, apple juice and one other), hot coffee, hot tea, and then a big bowl of fresh fruit. We feasted every morning and then ate lightly the rest of the day, except for the times we wanted an authentic Irish meal.

The day after we first arrived (we slept for a good part of that first day), we discovered a small cemetery alongside our hotel and hidden away from busy Merrion Rd. The small graveyard was surrounded on three sides by very old stone walls, similar to the hundreds we saw all over the city. The stones were very old, and some were broken. Some had been dragged over to the side and were leaning against the stone wall. We tried to decipher the writing and could make out some of the dates. The oldest one we saw (we didn’t look at every one) belonged to a soul who died in 1788. The cemetery also was probably one of hundreds just like it, scattered throughout the city, resting places that had been neglected and forgotten. (See pictures below).

After that, we decided to walk the two miles or so to City Centre (as they call it) and check out St. Stephen’s Green. http://ni_towns.tripod.com/dublin/st_steve_green.html

The maps I had laboriously studied didn’t show all the street names that we actually encountered, and since there were no street signs, we decided to turn off Merrion Rd. onto Ailesbury Road, hoping we could reach St. Stephen’s. We turned right at the next major intersection, and we knew we were heading in the right direction, so I wasn’t worried, but we kept walking and walking, without reaching the Green. We stopped and asked for directions twice. Each time, we were told that we had quite a distance to go, but that we were headed in the right direction.

The incredible neighborhoods we walked through on our long walk (about 3-4 miles) to St. Stephen’s Green made it worth the effort. Large Georgian homes with their doors all painted different colors, beautiful gardens, iron fences, huge trees and flowering shrubs gave us an unforgettable picture of Dublin that will stay with us always, especially all the vivid colors in the plant life. (Many of the beautiful old Georgian homes were being renovated and some were being turned into commercial or office space.)

People painted their Georgian doors purple, red, blue, green (I think the only color I didn’t see was pink, though I did see one painted fuschia!)
http://www.irishcultureandcustoms.com/ALandmks/DoorsofDublin.html

Finally, we saw the trees of the 22 acre park in the middle of Dublin. Once inside the park, we walked under the giant, green-leaved, canopied trees. Many people were sitting on benches and on the green itself, talking and eating their lunches. Again, the flowers were just beautiful, with tall, striking orange tulip-looking flowers and others I didn’t recognize.

In St. Stephens Green, we took pictures of some very unusual trees. One majestic tree was labeled “London Plane.” Ray said that Charles Dickens mentioned that tree often in his Tale of Two Cities. After doing some researching after we got back, I found that the tree is a hybrid cross between the American Sycamore and the Oriental Sycamore, probably created before the 1700’s. Who knew?

We then walked out of the park (through the arch that’s depicted on the above link) and into St. Stephen’s Green three-story shopping mall. People had to pay 20 cents to use the restrooms, which were nice and clean. The stalls were larger than the American restroom stall (just a little bit of info which you might or might not want to know). I never saw paper towels in restrooms, just automatic hand dryers. We bought another Dublin map from a bookstore, but it didn’t have that much more on it than the maps we had with us.

We also discovered a Seattle Coffee shop in the mall with an internet café where we sent and accessed our e-mail. (to be continued)

Our Trip to Dublin - Part 2

2008-06-08T15:45:00.011-05:00

Ray remembers the landing and disembarking in Dublin, but that’s also a blur to sleepy me, as is the bus we were told to take to our hotel (we didn’t refer back to our own research which would have put us on the right bus, but relied on the people at the airport). The bus came to the end of its run in front of the Bewley Hotel, one mile from our hotel down Merrion Road, and we had to disembark. But, having to walk one mile was okay with us since we had backpacks, not heavy luggage. (Since we had anticipated something like this might happen, we only brought what we could carry on the plane.) So, we started walking, that lovely morning, with the scenery, the beautiful gardens, and the bracing chill in the air, which really woke me up.

We passed large, imposing Georgian-style homes on Merrion Road. Each home had many plantings and trees in their front yards (“gardens” to the Irish). The gardens were surrounded by either stone or wrought iron fences and elaborate gates. Some of the shrubbery hung over the iron and stone fences, and that’s the only way I was able to pick a lilac bloom, the first one I’ve picked in thirty-five years. I was thrilled that the lilacs were blooming. We both kept breathing in its fragrance as we walked to the hotel-- a nice introduction to Ireland.

The fragrance wasn’t as strong as I remembered, probably because I’ve gotten accustomed to the heavier fragrances of honeysuckle, jasmine, and my “Mr. Lincoln” and “Perfumed Delight” roses. But, in my childhood, lilacs supplied most of the lovely perfume (well, except for the fragrant plum and apple tree blooms which I also loved). Just the lilac’s aroma brought back memories of myself as a ten year old. When I finished doing the dishes, I’d pick a huge bouquet and place it in a large fruit jar full of water and set it exactly in the center of the cleaned-off kitchen table. That’s a good memory for me. Those vases of lilacs represented to me, at that time, a sense of order in an otherwise sometimes chaotic world.

We finally reached Tara Towers, a hotel which reminded me of a genteel old lady perched sedately on the coast of Dublin Bay, peering out over the water. Our room had a ten foot ceiling with wainscoting: décor from a grander past. The doors exiting from the hallways to the stairways were of thick, solid dark wood with glassed-in panels. The dining room’s design was rather ornate with all the dark wood, beams, and scrolls. On one wall, there was what looked like a six ft. stone arch from some ancient church. The opening had been covered with a lovely patterned, but clear, glass. Alongside were beautifully colored glass panels, a view which we enjoyed every morning we walked down the stairs to breakfast.

The old, wooden armoire in our room had one handle missing, but who cared when we had the breathtaking view of the Dublin Bay from our sixth-floor room. It was breathtaking, especially to see the freighters in the distance, sitting still to our eyes, but actually moving quite fast. Everyday we opened the window to let in the cool breezes off the bay. The heat registers looked to be nineteenth century vintage, but they worked, so we were happy. Outside, the temperatures hovered in the upper fifties, sometimes breaking sixty degrees, but there was always a sharp wind. Overall, the bathroom was modern enough for our twenty-first century American tastes. (Actually, we aren’t that finicky!) One unusual feature was the toilet handle fastened to a wooden cabinet way above the bowl. The water closet was behind the door of the cabinet. The light switches were somewhat tricky until we got the hang of them.

Across the bay, two lighthouses blinked on and off all night. The tide would come in and then go far out, leaving little birds to scamper over the naked seabed searching for food. And, for several days in a row, we saw a hardy soul out there with a wind sail.

Ray had made careful calculations regarding the value of the Dollar compared to the Euro and how much we should take for spending money, but we weren’t completely prepared for the high cost of living in Dublin. After Ray got a bit frustrated when we saw some of the prices, he decided that he would just pretend we were living in an airport for a week, and it might not bother him as much! We wondered how people actually could live there comfortably. Many of the Irish walk and/or take public transportation. However, many if not most of the young people had cell phones, so those must be as necessary there as they are here! And, we were surprised at the number of cars whizzing by on Merrion Road, most of them carrying only the driver, just like in the States. (to be continued)

Our Trip to Dublin - Part 1

2008-06-06T13:43:00.006-05:00

Well, we're home from our trip. I still can't believe we traveled to Ireland! As I mention in one of my other blogs, neither my husband nor I had ever been abroad. We had a waited a long time for this and are still feeling the after-effects! Here's Part 1 of our experiences:
------------------------
Dublin Trip – May 2008
The Irish are lovely people, friendly people. I felt as at home there as anywhere in the States. They were helpful when we stopped and asked directions, and they engaged in small talk at bus stops. Bus drivers were friendly, as well

Actually, this trip started years ago with the hoping, the planning, the postponing, and finally the determining to go. Now we couldn’t believe we were actually on a plane to Ireland! We flew from Austin to Atlanta, Delta’s hub. When we left Atlanta for Ireland, by the time we were over the North Atlantic, it was too dark to see the water, but I kept looking anyway. Every so often I could see tiny clumps of lights which I imagined were businesses and homes on islands in the Atlantic, though which islands, I don’t know for sure!

Shortly after observing the lights, I fell asleep. I wasn’t interested in watching any movies such as The Bucket List, No Country for Old Men, Juno, or There Will Be Blood, (which we had seen). Though the latter was a great movie, I had no desire to watch it again. Ray watched and enjoyed all of The Bucket List. So, I went to sleep, and awoke a couple of times, and it seemed a little less dark outside. I went back to sleep, and the second time I awoke, it was even lighter, but not really daylight, perhaps more of a charcoal gray light. I drifted off again and then woke to hear Ray calling me to tell me we were being served a late supper. I had designated a vegetarian diet and therefore was the first person in the economy class to be served, which was a nice surprise. The attendant then served Ray so we could “eat together” which I thought was great. Others around us weren’t served for another 20 minutes or so, so hey! We liked that!
The attendants were very friendly and helpful with people. Delta has an agreement with Air France, and the flight we were on was called Delta/Air France. The attendants, though, were American.

On the flight over, the food was so-so: highly--spiced chopped veggies, some fruit, and a small salad with iceberg lettuce. So, after seeing what the others had--a choice between pasta and chicken-- I decided I wasn’t going to go vegetarian again—on a plane that is. Ray got a brownie for dessert and generously shared it with me.

Back to sleep. They gave us nice soft blankets and two small pillows. Then, Ray was waking me again for a breakfast of fruit. Whatever else they served me is lost in a blur, probably an eggless muffin or something like that.

I peeked out the window, and the charcoal color was giving way to a luminous lighter gray. Back to sleep again, and the next thing I knew Ray was waking me to look through the window. What a beautiful sight! We were flying in the sunny light of morning—over little green fields of hedgerows, exactly how I figured Ireland (and the English countryside) would look. (to be continued)

Recording an Incredible Life

2008-05-31T12:37:00.015-05:00

I've been transcribing notes my husband took when he interviewed his ninety year old Aunt K. recently. She is quick-witted and funny with a warm and peppery personality. She has published more than one book on staying healthy and still submits articles to newspapers. There's not much she doesn't know about the latest medical news.

My husband's interview will be combined with a short autobiography which she has already written. His interview adds more details of her life up to the time she left the army to marry. Our part of the interview ended up being fifteen typed pages which took us approximately five and one-half hours. The two of us worked on it together; otherwise, it would have taken much longer.

Aunt K. grew up in New York with her identical twin sister and her mother, her father having died in his twenties, as a result of the 1918 world-wide flu epidemic. The little family had a very difficult time, especially during the Great Depression, with their mother desperately trying to find work in a society that didn't offer much help or job opportunities to women who had to support themselves and their children. At one point Aunt K. and her sister were sent to separate foster homes for a year when their mother contracted tuberculosis.

But, the twins were determined to achieve, and besides getting good grades, they were accomplished athletes. With a full scholarship, Aunt K. attended and graduated from college.

Upon graduation, she joined the Army (1943) and was sent for training as a physical therapist. After that, she was assigned to Walter Reed Hospital. Then, she was transferred to another hospital where she was asked to start a physical therapy program, which she did. She says the pressure was unbelievable, with the large numbers of wounded soldiers being sent home for treatment and rehabilitation. No one was prepared to handle such numbers of war-wounded on such a scale. She had to learn fast, which she also did. She hired two aides and went to work.

Later, she left the Army to marry Uncle J. (1946) and move to his home state of Texas. Up until that time, she says that the war experience still stands out as the most vivid in her life. She was personally commended by the U.S. Surgeon General for her outstanding contribution. Aunt K. essentially had taken charge of an overwhelming situation, helping thousands of returning wounded. She even pioneered specialized treatments for those who had lost limbs.

The unexpected often happens in wartime, and there may be no existing program, no plan, and no directions. The military asks individuals to take charge, and sometimes those incredible individuals really do rise to the challenge. This is what happened to Aunt K.

Exercise and Fabulous Mexican Food

2008-05-30T17:35:00.003-05:00

We finally made the decision to buy a treadmill. We had been looking at ones in the sale papers and online but finally decided to go to Walmart and get a Gold's Gym 450. It's so hot here in Texas that we both dreaded another summer trying to walk early enough or late enough to beat the heat. This way, we can stay somewhat comfortable and still get our exercise.

That pretty little cardinal is still trying to fly in through our upstairs office window. As I sit here on the computer, I guess he never sees me until I move to the window to scare him off. I'll do that again (for the umpteenth time) because I don't want him to wear out his bill!!

We had a super meal this afternoon at our favorite Mexican restaurant. Besides the great food, it's the only Mexican restaurant either of us has ever been in where the waiters call us "Amigos," which makes us feel welcome! They fill our plates so full I always have to bring home over half of my Pollo Fiesta!

Eckhart Tolle #2

2008-05-12T18:13:00.006-05:00

"Worry pretends to be necessary. . .

but you have to see that it

serves no useful purpose."

Eckhart Tolle on Oprah Winfrey's webcast/March 17, 2008

----------------------------------

Light Out of Africa

2008-05-10T18:06:00.004-05:00

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our Light, not our darkness, that frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of the universe. Your playing small doesn't serve the world. There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We were born to manifest the glory within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.

Williamson, Marianne. A Return to Love: Reflections on the Principles of "A Course in Miracles", New York: Harper Collins, 1992.
From Chapter 7, Section 3
(Included in Nelson Mandela's 1994 inaugural address)

John F. Kennedy

2008-05-10T18:04:00.003-05:00

We are not afraid
to entrust the American people
with unpleasant facts,
foreign ideas, alien philosophies,
and competitive values.

For a nation that is afraid
to let its people judge the truth
and falsehood in an open market
is a nation
that is afraid of its people.

John F. Kennedy

Building a House

2008-05-08T15:43:00.003-05:00

Two years ago, in this Texas town, there was extensive building going on in the Oak Creek Subdivision. Bulldozers were growling in their fury, scraping the earth and taking down live oak trees that had the misfortune of being in the wrong place at the wrong time: cedar trees, sumac, Texas redbuds, Texas pistache, bluebonnets, prairie verbena, all kinds of wildflowers; little was spared.

The incessant pounding of hammers and nail guns added to the chaos. Foundations were being poured, and the houses were springing up and emerging, like new butterflies, complete with bright, green lawns. After the sod was laid, the requisite three small trees planted and appropriate shrubbery installed along the sides of the house, workers and machines moved on to the next empty lot. There, the angry bulldozers would pause for a few moments as though to relish their prey, and then, a few hours later, it was over, the lot scraped clean.

When we decided to build in this subdivision, we asked the builders to leave everything except what was absolutely necessary to make space for our actual house. We made phone calls and traveled fifty miles a couple of times a week to make sure nothing was going to be taken out that didn’t need to be. Thus, we have a small patch of natural “woods” in front, a small patch in the back, and a large patch that almost covers our entire back yard. These patches include the brush, fallen limbs, and all natural habitat cover. Our ggrandson refers to the backyard patch as “the forest,” for it seems large and dense to his three year-old perception. It is an exciting place where his Pappy built his tree house. To him, “the forest” is another world.

A saved tree leans through a new privacy fence along the side of the house. Another large tree trunk is only two inches away from the roof, so my husband pulled it back and trained it to grow out from the house. But, at least we have these patches which provide welcome privacy when we sit out on our patio. And, we’re trying hard to atone for nature’s loss (and ours) by providing food for the birds and butterflies on our property.

After we moved in, we dreaded what was going to happen on the lots on either side of us. As we watched the machines clear these lots, we could almost hear the falling trees in their shock, cry out. These trees and bushes had known peace for eons (except for deer and a few cattle) in this famous Texas “hill country.” This land had provided homes for assorted songbirds, like cardinals, mocking birds, jays, wrens. What a change we humans have wrought because of our need for shelter, new and used.

Actually, it’s no different than people who built fifty to one hundred years ago. The same thing happened then and is simply continuing. Such is “progress.” Maybe we could spread the word to other new homebuilders that when possible, patches of natural habitat need to be saved. Patches here and there all added together, multiplied by thousands, could result in countless birds and other wildlife being able to stay where they are. We certainly would be the richer for it.

Patricia

Tao Te Ching (8), (9), and (10)

2008-05-07T21:36:00.012-05:00

8.
The supreme good is like water,
which nourishes all things without trying to.
It is content with the low places that people
disdain.
Thus it is like the Tao.

In dwelling, live close to the ground.
In thinking, keep to the simple.
In conflict, be fair and generous.
In governing, don't try to control.
In work, do what you enjoy.
In family life, be completely present.

9.
Fill your bowl to the brim
and it will spill.
Keep sharpening your knife
and it will blunt.
Chase after money and security
and your heart will never unclench.
Care about people's approval
and you will be their prisoner.

Do your work, then step back.
The only path to serenity.

10.
Can you coax your mind from it wandering
and keep to the original oneness?
Can you let your body become
supple as a newborn child's?
Can you cleanse your inner vision
until you see nothing but the light?
Can you love people and lead them
without imposing your will?
Can you deal with the most vital matters
by letting events take their course?
Can you step back from your own mind
and thus understand all things?

Giving birth and nourishing,
having without possessing,
acting with no expectations,
leading and not trying to control:
this is the supreme virtue.

Lao-tzu, Tao Te Ching. Trans. Stephen Mitchell. New York: HarperCollins, 1988.

Bartholomew's Prescription for Fear and Grief

2008-05-03T04:33:00.003-05:00

Once you decide that you are so vast that you can hold anything, you will be fearless--fearless because you have learned there is nothing that can come to you from this world that you cannot hold. There is no grief so great, no event so horrible that you cannot hold it in you, smooth it, warm it, open to it, and love it. Those of you who have had traumatic beginnings, don't run. Love them. Don't try to love the people, please. Love the feelings.

Bartholomew. I Come as a Brother. Carlsbad, CA: Hay House, Inc., 1985.

Bartholomew's Prescription for Pain

2008-05-03T04:30:00.003-05:00

The moment you sense that painful feeling within you, say to yourself, "I love this feeling. I welcome it. It doesn't have to go anywhere or change. It is part of me. I accept this feeling." And the warmth which is always there, moves over to the "rock" and begins to smooth it, surround it, and make it porous. So out of the power of your love for this "rock," "it" takes on the power of your love. It becomes filled with your love! Love pours through this "unlovely" feeling-mass, surrounds it, uplifts it, and it becomes "lovely." And you find you are capable of holding two things: your love and that agony. Your love is so vast that there is nothing that it will not hold, and using that vastness is what you've got to learn. No grief is so great that you cannot hold it within you and also hold the vast power of your love at the same time. You do not have to choose. You can have all the grief, you can have all the illness, you can have all the sorrow, all the regrets, all the guilt, and there is no need to worry because all the love in your heart is so vast it will hold anything. These emotions are your children. They are your children! All they want is your love.

Bartholomew. I Come As A Brother. Carlsbad, CA: Hay House, Inc., 1985.

Happiness

2008-05-03T04:28:00.004-05:00

Happiness is a journey, not a destination. So, work like you don't need the money, love like you've never been hurt, and dance like no one's watching.

Unknown

An Article by A.O. Scott

2008-05-03T04:24:00.002-05:00

January 11, 2008 (A New York Times article)
Film
Take the Kids, and Don’t Feel Guilty
By A. O. SCOTT
Over the last few years, in the course of many parent conferences and elementary-school curriculum nights, I’ve become familiar with the concept of the “just-right book.” This, my children’s teachers patiently explain, is a book that is perfectly suited to a child’s reading ability: neither too easy, in which case he or she will grow bored, nor too difficult, which risks frustration and confusion.
I defer to the pedagogical expertise of the professionals, but something in me nonetheless rebels against the idea that the books children choose should always be safely within their developmental comfort zone. There is pleasure to be found in bewilderment, in the struggle to make sense of what is just above your head, and there is wisdom as well. For similar reasons, while I am happy (or at least willing) to take my children to the latest animated or tweener-star-driven “family” movies — with their singing chipmunks and chirpy Loch Ness Monsters — we gravitate more and more toward age- inappropriate fare, exploring the grown-up realms of PG-13 and even, sometimes, R.
Is this just wrong? Maybe. I blanch when I see very young children at “American Gangster.” But I also roll my eyes when friends choose to interpret the PG-13 rating as a literal injunction rather than an attempt by the movie industry to protect itself from complainers.
We all know what’s right for our own children, and I’m not going to advise anyone to subject young eyeballs to the cruelty of “There Will Be Blood” (which isn’t, until the very end, all that bloody) or the menace of “No Country for Old Men.” But there are a lot of interesting movies to see with children right now, including many that are not marketed that way.
On Christmas, my annual busman’s holiday, I took my daughter to see “Enchanted,” a just-right movie for her if ever there was one. Its blend of satire and sweetness, princessy romance and feminist pluck was expertly calibrated to satisfy a third-grade girl. Which was just the problem. At the end, as is my custom (I have to get my insights from somewhere), I asked her what she thought. “It was good,” she said. “But I felt like I knew what was going to happen the whole time.” That’s true of a lot of movies, maybe most of them. But isn’t it more fun — if also perhaps more risky — not to know, to be apprehensive and attentive and maybe a little uncertain?
That’s the kind of movie I like, and I don’t think that’s just a matter of grown-up taste. On the contrary. The mind of a child is made for learning, and even movies that have no explicit didactic intention can teach a lot. An adult companion is helpful to provide explanations.
Which is what may make some parents uncomfortable: not the bad stuff their sons and daughters will see, but the difficult stuff they may find themselves asked to explain. The same Christmas Day, my son, who is in sixth grade, went to see “Charlie Wilson’s War” with his mother and other family members. When he came back he had some hard questions, but they had nothing to do with naked congressmen in hot tubs or cocaine or extramarital dalliances, all of which feature prominently in that movie. “Why did the Russians invade Afghanistan in the first place?” he wanted to know.
And if you are prepared to tackle that — I could have used a little help, frankly — then by all means take a curious child with an interest in spycraft and skullduggery to see “Charlie Wilson’s War.” It’s appealing in part because it’s a grown-up movie of a kind that used to be more common. It’s brisk, funny and frank about sex and politics, demonstrating the ease and worldliness that are among the most fascinating and mysterious features of adulthood. More so, I suspect, than the nudity, smoking and swearing that are also part of Charlie Wilson’s world.
Like “Charlie Wilson’s War,” “Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street” is rated R, in this case for geysers of arterial blood rather than for disrobed flesh or untamed language. It is a scary, brutal, horrifying film — also a musical, by the way — and two-thirds of the way through it my son turned to me and said, “I’m loving this.” And why wouldn’t he?
The music, though not his usual genre, got into his head and under his skin, and he recognized most of the stars from the “Pirates of the Caribbean” and “Harry Potter” movies. There were Severus Snape and Bellatrix Lestrange (Alan Rickman and Helena Bonham-Carter) locked in a revenger’s tragedy with Capt. Jack Sparrow (Johnny Depp). And there was the French guy from “Talledega Nights,” Sacha Baron Cohen, also known as Borat. (Yes, he’s seen that too. Terrible, I know. I wish it had been around when I was his age.)
Those familiar pop-cultural faces were his point of entry into a story that was a good deal stranger and darker than most musicals. He was a bit rattled, but also fascinated. “It’s one of the best movies of the year,” he said. Regular readers will know I share his judgment.
But children, more than critics, are receptive to anything that doesn’t bore them. Mine were enchanted by “Persepolis,” for instance, which is after all the story of a rebellious young girl contending with unjust authority. It’s not so different from “The Golden Compass” (which they also liked), except that instead of taking place in a computer-generated fantasy world full of armored bears it is set in the real country of Iran, which is rendered in beautifully drawn ink-washed two-dimensional animation. “Persepolis” is also in French, but don’t let that put you off. If your children can read just-right books, surely they can read subtitles too.
Death and sexuality figure in the story, but those themes are handled with such wit and delicacy that “Persepolis” is more likely to inspire interesting conversations than awkward questions or uncomfortable feelings. The same might not be true of “Juno,” the story of a 16-year-old girl’s unintended pregnancy and her entanglement with the couple who want to adopt her baby.
Like other parents I’ve spoken to about it, I wish “Juno” were just a bit less lighthearted about teenage pregnancy, the real social and psychological consequences of which are never quite acknowledged. But the movie’s spirit is sweet and smart and youthful, and the relationships it depicts feel very tender and real. If it provokes you to have that long-dreaded talk with your son or daughter, so much the better. You might have needed to anyway.
And the more movies you see, the more there is to talk about and to learn. I suppose a trip to see “National Treasure: Book of Secrets” might inspire a multigenerational inquiry into the history of the American presidency and the assassination of Abraham Lincoln. But this is likely to be lost in the childlike excitement at the action sequences and adult puzzlement about what ever happened to Nicolas Cage. (It may take a viewing of decidedly not-just-right movies like “Leaving Las Vegas” and “Wild at Heart” to explain that one. Though you could just as easily rent “Raising Arizona” or “Moonstruck.”)
But there are in any case better cinematic windows on the past. You can explore the painful history of Afghanistan not only in “Charlie Wilson’s War” (which leavens the pain with some boisterous and nostalgic cold war patriotism) but also in “The Kite Runner,” which is after all a tale of childhood friendship. “The Great Debaters” wraps its history lesson, about the American South in the era of Jim Crow, in a rousing (if somewhat formulaic) sports movie about a tough coach and his team of overachieving underdogs. There are some intimations of sex and violence, but nothing that is shocking or out of place, and the performances, especially by some of the younger actors, are examples of the excellence that is the movie’s theme.
So there is no need to shell out for a baby sitter, or subject yourself to repeated viewings of “Alvin and the Chipmunks” or “The Water Horse” — though if that’s your thing, I won’t stop you. But there are a lot of good movies out there right now, and if you haven’t seen them yet — in addition to the one’s I’ve mentioned there are “The Diving Bell and the Butterfly” and “Into the Wild,” “I Am Legend” and “Michael Clayton” — consider taking the children along. Some of these films may be too hot or too rough, but for that reason they may also be just right.

My Mantra

2008-05-03T04:16:00.002-05:00

In all the world’s religions are the seeds of truth. Different religions are like spokes on a wheel with the hub being God. They may be set apart by a variance of beliefs, styles, and approaches, but they are all seeking the one God at the hub of all life. Just as the spokes on the wheel come closer to each other as they near the hub, so too, as each path comes closer to God, it comes closer to all other paths.

http://the unitycenter.net/index.htm

No Degrees of Separation

2008-05-03T04:07:00.005-05:00

No Degrees of Separation

Look within; we can't be separate from God. We have created a false world of illusions in what we believe is our “reality.” In truth, He/She is our reality; God is in our every pore, in our essence, in the air we breathe. God is nearer to us than our own hearts. God’s Love sits patiently in us, waiting to be discovered. This perfect love flows through us because God is everywhere: in the spring rains, in the summer breezes, in the exquisite song of the mourning dove, in the lavender vision of a newly-bloomed iris, in a tiny baby’s laugh, even in a mud puddle!

Let’s open our hearts and souls to feel and to know what is already there, what is waiting patiently to be discovered. In God’s world there is no pain; it is an invention by human beings who work diligently to create it minute by minute, day by day.

We have imagined separation from one another and God; it has become OUR reality, not God’s. This imaginary separation from one another finds expression in our language, in our competition with one another, and in our judgment of others. These negative feelings are all designed to strengthen our own egos. The ego is very fearful and constantly strives to protect itself by trying to limit us.

Let’s look beneath our egos to our inner selves, our vastness, our true selves. Our egos will protest every step of the way, but we can still love them. We can let them know that there is something very grand at the center of our beings.

We are NOT separate from others--from what we consider the very "worst" to the very "best" souls. We are all One. Let’s surrender to this and allow our Divine natures to simply be.
P.