Thursday, December 29, 2005


Sitting in the ICU watching my heart try to flutter like a butterfly while beating like a drum, thinking of the meaning of Life, The Universe and Everything. In A Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy, the answer is 42.... which is probably as good an answer as any of us will be able to articulate.

For me, a successful life is one that has made the part of the world it touches even a wee bit better. Today, all three of my daughters came to see me, the two by choice and the one by blood. I cannot say how proud I am of all three. When I look at them, I know the magic will continue for all of the children whose lives are touched by these three wonderful women. If I am responsible for even a little of this legacy, then my life has been a success.

No, it's not time yet! Only time to contemplate both past and future on this Journey. I can not provide a path, a destiny for anyone other than myself, but perhaps I can provide some light on the questions that start a search for one's path.

What is life? Why are we here? Is there life after death? Do we have a purpose beyond being born, growing up, reproducing, growing old and dying? I know that we do. I have found that once we start asking questions, we start being steered in the direction of answers. We see things, hear things, read things that we had not previously noticed, that sometimes resonate with a place deep inside of us that simply says "This is true!", and we have found our first answer. Our answers are all within us but we must seek them out. After the first one, they start to come faster and faster. We get better at asking our questions and recognizing the answers.

There is a saying that when the student is ready, the teacher will appear. While that is very true, it does not always happen the way we expect. Often we are led to situations, circumstances, evens, or people which give us only one answer or even just a hing at where to look next. We may well not recognize these fleeting teachers.As we progress, the corollary of that saying may well be "When the teacher is ready, the student will appear. On this path to Awareness, we are all teachers and we are all students. We must walk our path with one hand stretched out in front to receive help when we need it. There will always be someone there to guide and give us confidence when faced with a new threshold. We must also remember to keep a lookout behind to help those who follow when they need it most.

We all experience times when we feel that life is progressing as it should, then suddenly life will turn upside down on us. Like any up hill path to the summit, there will be easy times and hard times. When it is hard, we need someone to remind us that it is always darkest before the dawn and that a new dawn is coming in all it's glory for us too.

After surviving a few of these dark nights, we develop faith in our Selves and our Path. I suppose that one way of putting it is that we become Survivors simply by learning that we do survive..............and suddenly we begin to take responsibility for our selves. No longer is life happening to us, We realize that we can choose many of the events in our lives, and even when we can not choose the event, we are in control of our reactions to it.

More and more, we chart our own path, make our own decisions, own our own lives. What a wonderful adventure we begin when we find our volition.Everything changes, we have found our Self. The great Journey begins in earnest. Each day becomes an adventure. We stop running from and start running to. We have truly begun our Journey Into Being. Each new truth leads to another. We are Awakening. We seek out and find others who are Awakening. We become seekers after light. We begin to carry an inner light and a mirror in which we reflect others truths back to them as ours are being reflected to us.

Like the ripples on a pond, our knowledge grows wider and wider. Like the stillness beneath the surface, our conviction grows deeper and surer. What has been set in motion can not be stopped., We are Awakening. We are part of All That Is. We are part of the One. We ARE!

Wednesday, December 28, 2005

The Fairy Godmother Department

We always wonder why we are not showered with good things when we start to consciously practice being the best person we can be. While the things we need are drawn to us exactly when we need them, other things we expect do not materialize. If, for instance, our motive for pursuing the Path is to win the lottery, your chances for success are slim. If you need to make next month's rent, the means will be provided.

When asking for help, we must remember to clearly ask for what we actually need and trust that it will be provided, probably in a way that seems least likely. Do not tell the Creator how to look after us, simply trust that we will be looked after.

I have always explained this phenomena a bit of tongue in cheek, by explaining that the Fairy Godmother Department is staffed only by one little old lady in a rocking chair, knitting on her knee, kitten at her feet. She reviews the requests as quickly as she can, granting those that are legitimate, but the backlog is very large.

On the other hand, everyone wants to work in the Practical Joke Department, and many of them have a very strange sense of humor. Most gift refusals are channeled through them. Knowing this, it is probably a very good idea to really consider what we ask for before actually asking.

I have recently had experience with both departments. Twice last week, my heart was artificially stopped and restarted in an attempt to return it to it's proper rhythm, the second time was successful. I can not pretend that I was not a little bit afraid, afraid of more pain, afraid of more suffering, but not afraid of passing over the final threshold in this life. I have stood on this particular threshold many times in the past, only to turn back and stay a while longer. I am not finished with this life, or at least it is not finished with me. Nor is the Practical Joke Department finished with me. Early morning on Christmas eve and my blood pressure was 205/109 with a pulse rate of 79, but it was steady and consistent, no flutter, so I got to go home in the afternoon. It was a reminder to slow down, take it easy and carefully as I start to regain my strength and resume my life.

Needless to say, preparations for Christmas were stopped in their tracks, no gifts bought or made and wrapped, no decorations up, very little special baking done............yet it was one of the best Christmases ever. My family's' only wish was that I would be home for Christmas, and I made it home just in time to curl up under the tree for Christmas morning. My very first experience at being a gift.

We never know how much we are loved until there is a danger of being lost. My family, both blood and chosen, dropped everything to come and see me even though it was hard to do. The love that surrounds me sustains me.

My wish for everyone is to experience such love, and to recognize it when it is there. Do not let the sun go down on a quarrel, do not forget to tell those you love, just how important they are to you. The most powerful force in the universe is love, but it is easy to forget to show that love each and every day.

When I leave this world, I would like to work in the Fairy Godmother Department.

Saturday, December 24, 2005

Joy and Sunshine

I wish you all Sunshine and Joy this season of celebration,
regardless of the particular tradition each is celebrating.
We all have something to celebrate, whether religious or not.
It is the end of the darkest days, the beginning of the
lengthening days moving slowly toward spring and a
bursting forth of new life and joy from the earth itself.

May your hearts be light, may your cares be few.

Monday, December 19, 2005

Inside Out

The tears roll down my face.
They don't have my permission.
Outside, my pain is written
in the water on my cheeks.
Outside, my body reflects
the state of the outer me.

The ocean of life cradles my soul,
deep, where no one can see.
Inside, the blows are cushioned
by a sea of tranquility.
Inside, my soul reflects
the state of the inner me.

So if you see me crying,
if you think you see despair,
don't let concern for the outside
blind your eyes to the inner life.
Remember that reflections
are not cast from the inside out.

Sunday, December 18, 2005

The End of Days

This was written in September 2002, in response to the predictions of total anarchy, the end of life on Earth and even the end of the Earth itself. People were stockpiling food, clothing, tools, weapons, anything they could imagine needing when they woke up tomorrow to utter destruction.

One of the first prophecies of the end times came from Nostradamus and had to do with the Jews going home, which they did a number of years ago. The Middle East has not settled down since. Another of his prophecies had to do with the mark of the beast on the forehead of a world leader, and was interpreted to mean the birthmark on Gorbachev’s head. Much was written about the bear and the eagle, possibly referring to Russia and the U. S., or perhaps China.

Even the book of Revelation in the Christian Bible referred to the end times in graphic detail. More of these prophecies are coming true with each passing day, the end of the world as we know it is more and more certain. Operation Desert Storm brought us closer to the end as did the American declaration of war on terrorism. Iraq is heating up. India and Pakistan are at the ready and both have nuclear weapons, in part, thanks to Canada giving freely of our technology to make nuclear reactors to generate electric power. China is ominously silent. Both nuclear and chemical weapons exist in abundance. The ability to deliver such weapons anywhere in the world is an accepted fact.

The attack on the U.S. September 11th last year signaled the end of innocence and freedom as we know it. More and more freedoms are being taken away in the name of safety and the populace is accepting gladly these changes. The world economy is shaken to its very roots. The U.S. economy is heading for a very real, very drastic upheaval as the bills for the aftermath of 9/11 come due. The Japanese economy teeters on the brink. Even here at home, we lose services at a steady rate without making any real dent in the national debt. More of the world’s population slips below the poverty line every day. Starvation is no longer a Third World prerogative. It is happening right here at home.

Everywhere there are predictions of dire events, global warming, untreatable disease, floods, droughts, famine, earthquakes, destruction of our environment at an incredible rate, holes in the ozone layer, extinction of more and more species of both plant and animal life before they can even be cataloged.
I think it is obvious that if we do not succeed in wiping ourselves off the face of the earth, Gaea will have a flea bath and certainly reduce the number of Earth’s inhabitants drastically.

There is truly no way to prepare for what is to come. Because the course of history is cyclic, civilizations rising and falling, going all the way back to the decimation of the dinosaurs, Atlantis, Egypt, Athens, Pompeii, Rome, the Biblical Flood (a version of which exists in all religious histories), the European Dark Ages, the British Empire, the Russian Tsars, and now the USSR, Aztecs, Incas, and the list goes on, Life itself is in an eternal spiral of becoming, such that with every turn of the wheel, civilizations fall, but with something left over to begin again with, I believe our emphasis must be not on saving life, but on saving souls. Death, is the eventual outcome of all births, and as we know, death is simply a rebirth on another level. Panic is not called for; we are simply living in the end times of another civilization.

Because it has become truly a Global Village, we are much more aware of what is happening than in the past, which means that the general populace is privy to much more “News” than even twenty years ago. I am not sure I would want to survive, at my age, to greet a “Brave New World” where living simply is a must, with no medical services, no system of care for the elderly nor any of the modern conveniences that make life easier as we age. I believe that is the job of the young. There will certainly be survivors to repopulate the world and start the cycle once more. It would be hoped that these survivors would be much more spiritually aware than past generations.

Perhaps our responsibility lies in trying to make for a more enlightened populace. People are definitely searching for answers, for a better way, for connection with the Divine, the Creator, the Cosmic All. That is why so many Eastern Religions have taken hold in the West, among them Buddhism, Baha’i, Hare Krishna, Transcendentalism, Wicca, Native Medicine, Spiritualism, and any number of fakes allying themselves with the New Age movement. I see our role as one of bringing light to the dark recesses of the human condition, in all possible ways.

Wednesday, December 14, 2005


A man once said, "come fly with me",
and though I wanted honestly
to join him in the sky and soar,
I was earthbound by the pack I wore.

I could not leave my pack behind,
for it contained this past of mine,
remnants kept for security
and I must plod through eternity.

Strewn along my plodding way
other packs I found each day,
'till yesterday, I heaved a sigh,
shrugged off mine and began to fly.

Tuesday, December 13, 2005

Finding My Questions

As a child, I felt isolated, different, lost even. If it had not been for my grandparents great goodness and integrity, I doubt that my path would have found me in this lifetime. I had half-formed memories, feelings of something missing in my life. They provided me with a safe framework within which I could search for meaning in my life.

In my teens, I began searching in earnest, reading the Christian Bible from cover to cover, the Book of Mormon, the Koran, Buddhist, Hindu and Taoist texts, the Teachings of Don Juan and many others followed, but I was not finding my answers because I still did not know the right questions to ask.

In my twenties, I encountered the Maharishi Mahesh Yoga and learned Transcendental Meditation (TM) techniques. After using these techniques for a period of time, I finally started to see the questions I must ask in order to start to find my answers. I did not stay with the group, but will be eternally grateful for them having taught me the rudiments of meditation. I was finally on my way, a foot on the path so to speak.

The first time I consciously experienced my connection to the All That Is, I wept. I was coming home! I had no words to express my experience, and even now, so many years later, I do not have adequate words. When you have such an experience, you will have no doubts as to what it was even though you can not describe it. Our computer brains do not have the basic programming to allow such descriptions. We spend a lifetime filling this computer with knowledge and it still is not enough.

An example for me was the time I nearly drove right into the side of a moving train because I did not see it. It was a familiar level crossing, where I had never in my life seen a train. Because of this, my brain did not register what my eyes were reporting to it. It was only at the last instant that my brain woke up and I stopped the car a foot from the train. After an eternity spent shaking and giving fervent thanks, I was finally able to think about what had happened. This was also my first glimmering that the mind is not the brain, but rather the mind uses the brain the way we use a computer.

Memories of things I had read started to surface and I saw that there was much that I had not understood the first time. I now had questions, some of them the right questions. This sent me back to re-reading my whole library and adding to it as quickly as possible. I continued to meditate twice a day and experiment with different meditation practices while raising a family and pursuing a career.

I had always kept a journal of sorts, where I wrote my poetry, musings, insights and other thoughts. For the first time, I could see progress in my thinking. Much that had totally baffled me and left me with that feeling of something missing in my life, started to make sense. Friends and family started asking me questions and listening as I tried to answer as fully and truthfully as I could. Here I think, is where I put my feet back on my path and took up my Journey Into Being for this lifetime.

To be continued


One step at a time, I walk along the road that I have chosen.
Should I run in total abandon, an obstacle would trip me,
and keep me from my goal.

Why is it we can not acknowledge the feelings that we have?
Why must we hide ourselves in fear of being different?
Yet, we look at others, half-naked, and know we are the same.

When two people have decided to separate their lives,
each feels the need to discredit the other in everyone's eyes.
In the painful process, the mud they throw with such abandon,
lands on all around them and their efforts only succeed in
discrediting both of them in everyone's eye.


Monday, December 12, 2005


I've traveled down so many roads
searching for the truth,
and each new thing that I have found
has piques my need to know.
Sometimes I think the flowers
are the luckiest of all.
Their simple lives are safely lived
within the garden wall.
They do not ask, they do not care,
they do not need to know.
But then I stop and think about
the walls that fence them in.
Their garden live, I could not live.
I think I am a weed.
Crabgrass, perhaps. I love to spread
my roots out in the soul.
I seek out every fertile spot
to see if I'll grow there.

Only Me

She gives the appearance of being
in control of her own world.
She looks like an authority
on everything she does.
But underneath she wonders
when they will all find out
behind the show of confidence,
"It's only me."

Sunday, December 11, 2005

No Reason

I watch him pace the floor
and struggle with his fear.
He knows there is no reason,
yet reason does not help.
Even though it be groundless,
the fear still finds a place.
I can only hold his hand
and wait for it to leave.

Plastic-Fantastic Man

He spent his youth pretending
he was a part of the faceless mob.
At thirty-five, his dream came true.
At forty-five, he wanted
his individuality.
He spent his middle years
fighting to be real.
At sixty-five, he wanted
the secrets of the universe.
He spent his aging years
in regret of his misspent youth.

Saturday, December 10, 2005

The Book Has An ISBN!!

I finally managed to get an ISBN for Journey Into Being, A Beginning so it will be listed on Amazon. com and Google Books, I hope. That should make the book easier to find. This publishing business sure is complicated.

The isbn is 1-4116-6402-7

It is also available at

I have not yet searched to see if the listing is up yet.

Friday, December 09, 2005

The Smells Of Christmas

I wish I could package and send every one of you a sample of the smells in my kitchen right now. My daughter by choice spent yesterday and today with me, doing our Christmas baking together. We are far from done, but the smells and the camaraderie and the joy and laughter are so thick you could cut and serve it. Pity I can not share it as I would like.

When my health deteriorated to the point that I can no longer do all the things I used to, I thought my life was over, but I have learned that the old skills and knowledge and stories from another time are also valuable and I can make memories for children that will last them a life time. I can share the magic, and help it to go on and on. I don't need to be physically fit to do this, I only need the will and desire to share. How many of us think that we have reached a point where we are no longer worthy of love and able to contribute to our families, friends and society in general? I did, but have learned so much since then. I have learned that it is important to share myself, not just my efforts. I have learned that people enjoy spending time with me, even if they have to do almost all the work of baking (or anything else) but they value my spirit, my knowledge and lore.

Tomorrow morning her girls (ages 8 and 6) will join us for the first of two cookie baking days. This one will be peanut butter cookies and the other one will be ginger snaps. Both batters hold up well to a lot of mauling and still taste great. Both have no egg so our allergic members will not get sick.

We are in the middle of a snow storm that threatens a foot or more of snow and the girls are going to cut their tree down this evening. Can you think of anything more magical?

Christmas is such a bitter-sweet season in so many ways. Not only do we mourn those who have gone before and will not be with us at this season, we mourn those who may be here now but not for the next year. We despair because the season has become so commercial, and most of us certainly can't keep up to the Joneses, and would not want to even if we could. Sometimes we spend so much time thinking about what we don't have that we forget our very real blessings.

How many of us know older people who are basically alone in this season but have a wealth of history and experience that they would be so very pleased to share if anyone stopped to notice that they are worthy of attention and consideration. How many of us know a lot of the old ways that we could bring a little of it back into our lives and the lives of our families. Someone told me they were going to take their young brother to a shelter to serve Christmas Dinner with him. The idea of teaching children the value of giving, and particularly giving of themselves is wonderful.

I wish you all the joys of the season, and the desire to try something old!


Saturday, December 03, 2005


Secretly she searches
through the alleys of my mind
for some stray thought
or image, that will,
when matched,
clarify her own.

I See



Some People I've Met

Like an awkward colt, she gamboled
through the meadows of my mind.
Not yet worn smooth and polished
by her contacts with the world,
she threatened the serenity
of the flowers growing there.

She's brash, she's blunt, she's open
and honest in her reactions
to the world around her.
She laughs, she cries,
she responds in honesty.
A day spent in her company
puts a shine back in my eyes.

She hides her light behind
complaints, fear and shyness.
Fear of the world keeps her
from sharing the joy
and companionship.
As her name implies,
she's waiting for a brand
new dawn of life.
I hope she finds her morning
and basks in her long lost sun.

Friday, December 02, 2005


Sometimes I's like to live
away from humanity,
in a hermitage, where
their fragility wouldn't bother me.
An ostrich, with its' head int he sand
doesn't see the hunter coming,
nor does it see the sun.
Do I really want to miss
the beauty of their souls
simply to save myself the cost
of seeing their growing pains.

Crutches and Friends

A crutch is someone you use
to help you over the obstacle
time after time.

A friend is someone you share with,
the triumph of getting over
the obstacle for the first time


The Unknown

The unknown lurks
around each bend.
We choose to face it
with fear or expectation.
Fear makes of it a monster.
Expectation, an adventure.
Some lives are lived
in constant fear
of monsters in the dark.
My life is lived
in constant hope
of adventure in the dawn.

Wednesday, November 30, 2005

On Croning

On this journey through life, there are both events and processes, events so great that they shape and mold our understanding of self, processes so subtle that we are almost at the end of one before we appreciate the fact that it has started at all.

A friend asked me what I meant by "croning" and I had to take a step back from my own life and view the process of moving from Maiden to Mother to Crone. Of all the life processes, this one is, perhaps, the subtlest, the most obvious and the most miss-understood.

Much human lore revolves around these three incarnations of the female deity. She is revered in all of her phases, however our society is so youth oriented that women passing through these stages tend to be dismissed out of hand when they reach the age of croning.

The Maiden is revered for her fresh faced innocence and her budding body, preparing to enter the Mother stage. The Mother is revered as well, for her ability to provide continuity of the male genetic lineage, and for providing proof of male virility. We can slip from Maiden to Mother without any more than a passing ripple to mark the transition.

The Crone, however, is dismissed as no longer able to fulfill the duties that the male dominated, youth oriented society has assigned her. This puts her under a microscope of her own making, seeing each gray hair, each early sign of menopause, each battle lost to gravity as making her less and less useful to society, her life less and less meaningful. At the very time where she should be celebrating her new found freedom to focus on her own spiritual growth, her own path, her new insights that makes her gifts to society more meaningful, she is filled with feelings of failure, uselessness and alienation.

Instead of resuming her personal spiritual journey, she suffers from the Empty Nest Syndrome. Instead of sharing her hard won knowledge with the younger generations, she spends time at a fat farm trying to recapture lost youth. Instead of taking her place as a matriarch in her family, she beats a path to the plastic surgeon.

Our society loses much in not valuing the croning process or the Crone

Tuesday, November 29, 2005

Growing Together

I would walk by your side,
and share with you my love.
I can not walk behind you.
You would hide me from the sun.
You must not walk behind me,
for you also need the light.
Side by side, on the road of life,
we can meet each new challenge
and grow together, always.


You were impressed.
I was afraid
I couldn't live up
to your expectations.

You weren't impressed.
I was afraid
I couldn't live up
to my expectations.

Monday, November 28, 2005

The Missing Magic of Christmas

I am not hearing kids talking about making garlands for the tree, going to get the tree, making gifts, making decorations, any of those things that made the Christmas Season magical. I am not hearing about families looking forward to missing members being home for Christmas. Even for those who are not practicing Christians, Christmas is a season for celebrating the love of family and gratitude for all we have, of sharing with those less fortunate, remembering those who are far away and can not be with us at this magical season.

It is hard to believe that December is not yet here, but Christmas wish lists are everywhere. I am not sure when and how it became so commercialized, but I really dislike seeing the "Gimme" mentality at every turn. It is another symptom of the magic going out of the lives of children.

The big news items over the weekend are about Sunday Shopping, just in case 6 other days a week are not enough to buy all the stuff little Johnny wants for Christmas. Pressure is put on parents to get the latest and greatest toys, brand name clothing, and any other thing that a person can write on a wish list. If these items are not under the tree on Christmas morning, you are a bad parent, incapable of satisfying the needs of your children. If your children do not go to school with the right manufacturers label all over their clothing and book bags, your parenting skills are again brought into question. The kids who don't have these things are teased and put down by the "have" kids.

It is so prevalent that even charity has to come in extra large. Our local mall has a "Giving Tree" each year, where Social
Services writes the first name of a child and his or her Christmas Wish gift on a card. You can take a card, buy the gift and give it to Social Services to wrap and give the needy child for Christmas. After reading through all the cards on the tree, I had to walk away unable to afford any of the gifts even for my own family. All requests came with brand names, all the brand names were at the top of the price field. It seems that if children do not go to school wearing the right clothes, carrying the right accessories, they are shunned by the ones who have it all.

My wish is the same as it is every year. To be surrounded by family, to have everyone home, safe and well. Only twice has this not happened. The worst Christmas ever for me was when my daughter was stuck in Montreal, the second worst, she was working and could not come home. We got up Boxing Day morning, packed up Christmas and took it to her. So it was the Worst Christmas Day but the best Boxing Day.

My daughter also feels that the most important thing is to be together and she looks forward to all the good food, good company and the love. It would not matter to her if there was nothing under the tree...and in the past, there have been years like that. The first Christmas we spent together was one of those, We gave my DH a pair of slippers, one from me and one from my daughter. It was so full of love that when we remember it, it is the love and caring that stand out, not the being financially so badly bent.

My DH is also happy when we can all be together, and looks forward to Christmas Brunch, which he is in total charge of. We always cook from scratch, but over the Holidays, we make an extra effort to make those things that are family favorites, require a lot of prep. and do not get made throughout the year. Extended family by choice also drop in over the holidays.

We have always made it a point of getting the larger necessities for Christmas plus a few small gifts. We always put together a large care package for our daughter, with food staples, personal care luxuries, and new and different foods to try. She says it is the most exciting gift, going through it on Christmas Morning. There is also usually someone who has no where else to go, who shares our Christmas with us.

Anything above and beyond these basics is great if it happens, but not at all necessary, or even missed if it does not.

Sunday, November 27, 2005

The Mask

So much has made me angry
over the years 'till now,
that I have had to ask myself
what anger is, and how
it can control the things I do
despite my very vow.

I look behind the angry roar
and lurking there, I see
a myriad different disguises
peering back at me.
Behind each mask I look beneath
the face of fear is what I see.

Saturday, November 26, 2005

Book Review

Today, I found a rather negative review had been posted on the site that Journey Into Being, A Beginning is being sold. It upset me rather more than I thought it should so I had to sit down and examine it to determine why.

What it comes down to is this. I gathered together the writings and published the book because I wanted to share my personal Journey with others so that they would know that they are not alone, and to perhaps help to point them toward their own path. It is truly from the heart, a little bit of me in every word. I put myself out there spiritually naked for all to see, but that was not the reason the review made me angry.

After pondering for some time, I realized that I was angry because that review might turn someone away from the book without checking to see if it was something that they could identify with and perhaps gain insight from. My DH assures me that this will not happen, that one mediocre review will not defeat my purpose in publishing, and I find that I do agree with him. Those who can gain from it will find it.

Funny how even after all these years, anger can still come up and blind side a person. It also reinforces my belief that anger is not a true emotion. When we look behind it, we always find another face peeking out. Sometimes it is fear, or embarrassment, or disappointment, or other emotions we do not want to deal with. Most often, though, it is fear that I find behind the mask of anger.

When you find yourself angry over something, stop and examine that anger. You may be very surprised at what you will find there. The greatest benefit in this exercise is that once identified, anger usually slinks off into the darkness, leaving you more aware and in control than before. Each time you confront it, it is easier to banish.


I float in the darkness of your night,
a multi-faceted diamond,
ready to reflect your light.
You came equipped
with only a small flashlight.
I catch your beam with one face only
and reflect it bright.
Oh, how much you missed
in that narrow band of light.
You could have seen me clearly,
even by candle light.

Friday, November 25, 2005


A feeling shared over coffee
reaffirms my membership
in the human race.

A smile shared in the morning
reaffirms my faith in the day.

A memory shared across the years
reaffirms my validity.

Why am I only valid when you see me?

Why can I not define myself and
in my own eyes be worthy?

Upstars at Christophers

Upstairs at Christophers,
we talk our cares away.

A lunchtime spent in sharing
thr troubles of to-day.

The afternoon goes faster
knowing we're not alone.

The problems shared at lunchtime
now are gone.

Thursday, November 24, 2005

More Thinkings

She's spoiled, they say.
Will they throw her away?
My garbage can is filled
with things that spoiled.
My kid's not there!~
Anger is fear all dressed up for a costume party.
For many years, Ive waited
for a day that never comes.
When a person reads what has been written
as another persons truth, it spurs him on
to discover his own inner truth.

and the search continues.......................

ugly caterpillar................beautiful moth

will I ever?

The moth is drawn to the flame
Is the caterpillar also?
Now you know what my brain does
when I don't pay attention... ;-)

Wednesday, November 23, 2005


I asked my cat what it was like
to live nine years with me.

He cocked his head and thought a while,
"Interesting" said he.

Did I mention that he always
insisted on meditating with me,
even if it meant scratching a door down.

Fragile said the sign.
They didn't look.
She didn't last.

Is this a haiku?


An old soul peeks through the eyes of a child.
They call his purity "innocence",
and wait for him to outgrow it.

They silence his wisdom with their cries
and dim the brightness in his eyes
in the name of MATURITY.

Sunday, November 20, 2005

The Butterfly And The Bull

The butterfly and the bull reside together,
side by side, in the one I love.
The butterfly is stronger,it keeps the bull in check,
except on rare occasions when it relaxes its' vigil
and the bull comes charging out.
If they could learn to live and work together,
they could conquer the world.

Saturday, November 19, 2005


The eyes that tell the story
belie the tranquil face.
The face says "Welcome, sister".
The eyes tell me "Beware".
This time, I'm not ready
to look behind the mask.

Friday, November 18, 2005

On Being Ten and Twenty

She is a woman of to-morrow,
a child of yesterday.
To-day she is a blend of both,
slipping from one tot he other
faster than the eye can follow.
In the course of a day
I can be mother, friend,
confidant, guardian,
and I never know from which
age she will emerge next.
We both grow and learn together.

Wednesday, November 16, 2005


Wanting to feel what she thinks she should,
Searching for the impossible dream.............
Believing that everyone else has found it,
Trying to learn to let it be and take what comes,
Making of it only what she can.

Tuesday, November 15, 2005

More Pictures

Before finding Blogger, I set up a blog on MSN, My Space. There are a number of pictures of the beauty that surrounds me there. If anyone wishes to see them, as well as recent jottings, I have set up a link on the left of this page. The site is called The Time Warp.

The Trees I Talk To

These are not the big old trees that I enjoy communing with, but they are the younger ones that live closer to the house. They are part of the wonders of Nature that surround me and cradle my soul.

Sunday, November 13, 2005

The Book Is DONE

The book is done, I finished at 3 o'clock this morning.The book and downloadable Cd are available at Zareba's Place, shown in the list of links on the right of this page. I would really appreciate it if anyone can go and have a look at my storefront and let me know what you think. Don't forget to click on the book, then click to see the back cover as well. It is a picture of me, taken at the time most of the journal entries were made.

I have never done anything like this before and I not only wrote it, but had to do the publishing as well. Lulu will simply print each copy as it is ordered, ship it, collect the money, take their large share and send me anything that is left...but I did not have to put any money up front and for that I am grateful.

I am totally exhausted and will take a couple of days to recuperate. Then it is back to work as I want to put pictures and graphics in an e-book version and make it available from here.

Thank you for any comments and suggestions on making it better.

Saturday, November 12, 2005

The Caretaker

I know that I have already posted today's post, but this one really goes hand in hand with it so here is tomorrow's a day early!

The body is the temple of the soul, the ego is the caretaker of the temple. The ego, poorly trained for the job, believes he is the owner of the property, and in the absence of the true owner, uses and abuses his trust. But he can not really be held accountable because of his immaturity and incomplete training for the job.

Like a child, he must be corrected gently, but firmly, and properly taught his duties. Sometimes, like a hyperactive and wayward child, he is unwilling to accept authority, and relinquish his faulty conception of his role.

Anger and self-pity are the tools he uses to block out his master’s voice and avoid hearing the truth. Like a child, his fear of the unknown can slow his progress.

I can’t help but feel that children who are born angry are at this particular stage of soul development. The ego’s false sense of importance is the cause of much human woe. Lose it and one becomes invulnerable.

The Space Suit

On the moon, man can not function but within the controlled environment of his space suit. He can not interact directly with the moon around him. On this earth, man can not function but within the controlled environment of his body and brain. He must strive mightily in order to consciously realize his greater self, using the tools provided in the physical body.

Lifetimes lived within this space suit of the physical creates fear to venture forth into the unknown without the familiar. Even the daring are most often content to psychically duplicate the familiar and experience what is termed projection. Few are the brave souls who venture forth into the expanded awareness that is ours by virtue of the soul’s heritage.

Friday, November 11, 2005


We are varicolored translucent disks, floating on the sea of life. When we drift into contact with each other, the overlapping portions form a third color. The strength of our relationships depends on the size of the overlap and the desirability of the color we create between us. The length of the relationship depends on the currents in the sea on which we float.

Thursday, November 10, 2005

Lady Mañana

Tomorrow's child.
No one has yet told you that
"Today is the first day of the rest of your life"
So you still live in the future.

There are so many tomorrows
Ahead of you that you can
Spend them recklessly and still
Have all you think you'll need.

I hope that when tomorrow becomes yesterday
You will have spent them
As wisely and well as you would have liked,
My Lady Mañana.

Wednesday, November 09, 2005

Mic Mac

Lost in time
Somewhere between then and now
Hair on his shoulders
In two long plaits of long ago.

Listening to the jazz of today
Played by the men of tomorrow.

Does he know where he was?
where he is?
where he will be?
Does he care?

Tuesday, November 08, 2005


Sometimes, I scream in anguish.
The pain is not the cause.
I've simply lost a privilege
And can not adjust my life.

The Words "I can't" create the scream
That wells up in my throat.
Frustration is the cause.
I need, but can not do.

Monday, November 07, 2005

Does Anyone Know?

I found this little bit of a poem a number of years ago, but have not been able to identify it. It is haunting, and I hope that someone here knows it and can give me the rest of it. Pleaseeee!

Once I was wild as the eagle in the sky,
Free to love, to live and to die.
I roamed this land from the mountains
To the sea, brother to the elk,
The bear and the deer.
Up the rivers, the lakes
and the redwood trees,
This was my land,
As far as I could see.

This will be the last song of our people,
The first people in this first world.
Now we are going, for you it will be hard,
You folk, farmers and fighters.
We are not sorry this world is passing,
People of the next world
Will not be long in coming.

Sunday, November 06, 2005

What She Must

Not yet ready for transition,
She struggles to bide here yet a while longer.
What will she do with the extra time?
What must she finish? What must she learn?
What must we learn from her?
Courage? She has that in abundance.
The impermanence of all things?

That is there to see in everything around us.
She will know when the time is right.
Grant us the courage and understanding
To accept her knowledge
And the ability to help her
Do whatever she must.

Saturday, November 05, 2005

Grafton Street

He stood detached,
Hearing his own rhythm,
Beating the time
to the musin in his far away head.

They listened,
More on stage than in the room.

Friday, November 04, 2005

Old Moze - Bizarre

Crazy old black piano man
Hiding behind the woolen scarves
And hats of yesteryear,
Playing the bogeyman for all to see.

But what are you hiding with the crazy show?
What do you protect from prying eyes?
Do you ridicule yourself or the rest of us?

While we are laughing at you,
Or frightened by your antics,
Are you laughing behind the mask
You made so long ago?

What happened to you that makes
The mask so necessary?
Would you let someone look behind it?

Or would you run in fear of discovery?

Shall we find out?

Thursday, November 03, 2005


She stood on the threshold of greater knowledge
But could not open the door.
Her fear that growth would set her apart
Outweighed her need to know.

Hesitantly, She took a step backward
To find only madness there.
Back again on the threshold, she stood,
Uncertainty keeping her there.

Sanding there,her need to know
Grows greater each passing day.
Until, on some tomorrow morning
She will open he door and find the way.

Wednesday, November 02, 2005


Does Ned have two heads and green skin?
or is he just like the rest of us?
trying to cope in the best way he can
in an environment that is not hospitable
to those who have not lost the capacity to feel?

Do we have the right to tell him what he
should think, how he should feel,
how he should act and react?
Do we have all the answers
that we can judge him?

Are you perfect, perfectly happy,
perfectly adjusted. perfectly knowledgeable,
that you can, with a clear conscience,
take on the re-molding of a human life
to fit your standards? Do you really want to?
Are you even sure that your reality is the only one?

Do you know what his reality is?
Have you seen him from the inside?
Can you feel his pain,
his frustration, his joy, his rage?
Before you try to force him into something better,
wouldn't it be wise to be sure it really is better?

Perhaps, if you really care, if you really try,
and if you are really sincere,
he may allow you to share a little of his world,
and if it is really meant to be
he may even take a second look at yours
before he rejects it, as you have rejected him.

Monday, October 31, 2005

A Walk

Today, I walked with God, a brother and a dog.
I don't know which of us enjoyed it most.

The dog, ears flapping, feet flying, stopped
for a bite of snow, a sniff at a new scent,
or to have his ears scratched,
saw newness and adventure in everything around him.

The brother, enjoying the energy of the dog,
the small talk and companionship we shared,
saw a possible hunter, game tracks
and the hand of nature.

I, watching my footing, hearing the snow crunch,
enjoying nature's artwork,
saw a precious moment in time to be
enjoyed to the fullest.

And God, thought the eyes of the dog, a brother, and I
Saw it all.

Sunday, October 30, 2005

Billy Reid

Bill lives on round legs.
He spends his days in the gardens
reviewing the troops.
He idles away his time
in dreams that can not be.

He was Napoleon.
He will have a motorcycle.
God calls him to the Cosmos
with a rushing in his ears.

He waits for someone
to bring him a cup of tea.
He was Hitler.
He will walk again next year.
The stars whisper secrets
in the hidden corners of his mind.

Bill lives on round legs,
or does he?

Wednesday, October 26, 2005


He took the dirty ashtray
and spun a new one to settle
neatly beside my drink.
We continued to chat
and lower the level in the pretzel bowl.
He passed by again, smiled,
and added another bowl of pretzels
th the already cluttered table.
We ordered another drink
and watched him move among the tables,
invisible, replacing ashtrays, gathering glasses.
Again , he moved our way,
clean ashtrays and dirty glasses on the tray.
Our eyes met, and for a moment
we shared the Cosmic Joke,
an invisible busboy of over sixty summers
and a lady who doesn't drink.

Tuesday, October 25, 2005


He came into the restaurant
and sat down on a stool.
His suit was overstuffed,
he bulged out everywhere.
Her laid his case upon the table,
and that was bulging too.
He ordered enough to feed a horde,
and overstuffed his face.
He pulled his wallet out and paid,
while the contents overflowed.
I wonder if his life is as
overstuffed as his person.

Monday, October 24, 2005

There's No One There

He uses us for target practice,
scoring near misses only,
never direct hits.
A direct hit would mean
that we could not be used
as targets anymore.

The funny thing is:


Sometimes the lessons come so fast
I fear I can not learn.
I must be left along the way,
a failed and broken thing.
But then I stop and realize
the Cosmos knows my pace.
Faith restored, I travel on
staring life right in the face.

Sunday, October 23, 2005


When the time comes to say "So Long"
do you linger over it?
not knowing quite what to say,
how to let the other person know that it's OK
without making them feel rejected b you?

Why is so much fuss made over something
which is a normal part of living?
Why are we made to feel guilty if it comes easily?
Should we feel our paths are irrevocably entwined?
Is it sacrilege to walk alone sometimes?

We are conditioned to hang on to everything.
We are so busy being greedy,
grasping at everything that comes our way,
that we are unable to enjoy the things
that pass our way each day.

I don't want to hang on to you
or have you hang on to me
I want us both to enjoy
our drifting past each other,
glad for the contact while it lasts.

Tuesday, October 18, 2005

Journey Into Being, The Book

Since the 1970's, I have kept a journal of jottings tracking my own journey toward enlightenment, things I have learned, observed and recorded over a 30 year period. In 1982, I compiled them into a small volume for family and close friends (6 copies). Last year, with the passing of a very dear friend, these early jottings came back into my possession.

Due to the extreme pressure from these same family and friends, I agreed to up-date the collection and compile it into a book for publication. Most of the mare rial comes from my early thirties, juggling a career and a life, while at the same time pursuing my personal quest to "become" an enlightened being. I have added more recent material as well, but it is truly a Journey Into Being, A Beginning!
Since I do not believe in putting a dollar value on anything I may have learned that would be of benefit to others, I was in a bit of a quandary, which I solved by setting up this blog and another at My Space At MSN. Between the two sites, I hope to offer things I have learned about life and living it, freely to anyone who may enjoy or benefit from my experiences.

The pressure to publish continues, and with the help and encouragement of family and friends, I believe the book will be ready to print by the end of October. I have found a site that will print and distribute it, taking their fees out of the proceeds for each book as it is printed. In this way, I need not pay any costs up front, making it possible for me to do. My course is being charted by the Creator each step of the way, and I must believe this book needs to be written. Difficulties are being swept away, needed information falls to hand almost before I need it, and the support and help of my family and friends is unending.

It is my sincere hope that my early experiences will help those beginning on their path to have courage and hope, knowing they are not alone. All knowledge resides within each of us. We must simply seek our inner connection to all that is. When we tread our paths with a light and a mirror, we light the way for our footsteps, and hold a mirror to assist others to look inside for their truths.
With love and companionship on the path

Mad, I Say Mad

Will someone please tell me what crazy is?
Whenever our opinions differ, I'm crazy.
When we agree, I'm brilliant.
If I say nothing, and disagree only in my mind,
then I'm normal, whatever that is.
Are you also the custodian of that definition?

When you are the self-appointed maker

of the rules, there is no way I can stay within
the secret boundaries you set anew for each situation.
This means I can make no move, attempt no
communication without stepping over the invisible moving line,
This must be a very lovely and frustrating place for you to be.

Please mark me down as crazy
and leave me out of the next round.
I'll be too busy just being here.
If you tire of the game
and want to look me up,
just ask anyone where the crazy lady is.

Monday, October 17, 2005

Vegetable Soup

I feel afraid because he is slipping into
nowhere and maybe he can't stop.
I see both his beauty and his need, and
I feel helpless because I can't help him
to hang on and find his way back.
I feel protective because the world is a cold,
cruel place that does not recognize his worth.
I feel exultant when he has a good day.
I feel hopeful that tomorrow will be better.
I feel anger at the world for hurting him,
and at him for letting it.
I can't understand where he is and why
he can't just come back by himself.
I feel inadequate in the face of the demands
put on me by my love for him.
I feel responsible in some way,
but I don't know what I should be doing,
or what I may have done.
I feel his pain and my frustration because
I can't give him my strength.
I feel despair that "Someday" may
never come and today is so long.
I feel empty because I gave all I have
and it isn't enough.
I feel impatient because sometimes I forget
that he can't help what is happening
and I want my needs met too.
I feel guilty because I feel angry, impatient,
frustrated, inadequate and
I know that is not the answer.
But most of all, and through it all,
I feel love and acceptance for him
because he IS, and that
is all that really matters.

Sunday, October 16, 2005

An Open Letter To My Daughter

My dear curry and paprika child,
Are you a child?
I look into your eyes, so green, like mine.
Do they see like mine?

I look at you and I hope for a future
As bright and shining as the eyes
That look back at me.

Not without pain, because pain,
As difficult as it may be to bear
Is a part of growing and I want you to grow.

Not without ugliness, because ugliness
Teaches an appreciation for beauty,
And I want beauty in your life.

Not without effort, because effort will
Give you a sense of self-worth,
And I want you to value yourself.

Not without giving, because giving teaches
You to value what you have,
And I want you to learn appreciation.

Not without hardship, because hardship
Refines the spirit and gives you faith in
Your strength and I want you to be strong.

Not without tears because tears are only a
Passing experience which allows you to laugh
And I want you to be happy.

BUT without fear, for fear is a trap that
Would prevent you from tasting the good things of life,

and I want you to live to the fullest.

But without despair, for despair feeds on itself

and would hide you from the sun,
And I want you to live in light.Is yours, reach out and take it.

Tomorrow, with all it’s dreams and promise

Is yours, reach out and tqke it.

Saturday, October 15, 2005


Eventually, one has to admit defeat,sometimes.
When someone simply refuses to understand,
and persists in finding justification for hatred,
there comes a time that your head
becomes too sore to continue to bash it
against a stone wall.
All that is left is to feel sadness for them
and hope that another place, another time,
they will allow themselves to find happiness.
Perhaps it was not meant to be in this lifetime.

Friday, October 14, 2005

Life in a Bottle

Have you ever wondered what makes a bright and gentle man
watch the world go by through the glass bottom of a bottle?, or
why he feels the need to hide his sensitivity behind the facade of
tough and angry violence, like a suit of armor? or why his mind
is muffled in an overcoat of buffoonery, which having worn for so long,
he finds it hard to shed, even int he warmth of love and acceptance
of him as he really is? Why must we deride the soft and gentle and
praise the tough and harsh to the point that a gentle soul cannot survive
without so much camouflage that the beauty is ruined in the process?

Thursday, October 13, 2005

A Train Ride

I stood at the door, staring out at the night,
alone in the crowd, on the train that night.
The stops came and went, the doors closed tight.
My panic rose and I had to fight
the fear that rose in my heart that night.

I felt something wrong, they thought it right
to travel to nowhere, forever in the night.
My heart stood still, I had to alight.
Back again, to where it all began,
the doors opened up and I almost ran.

It mattered not that they felt fine
to stay on the train at the end of the line.
I stepped out with a heart so free.
Most of the others that I could see,
content to ride in the endless night.

The crowd seemed to feel that it was right.
I followed the few who left the train
and felt that all was well again.
We moved along in single file.
I looked and wondered all the while.

The big re-cycler stood alone.
I waked in and was instantly gone.
I watched and saw, overlooking the train,
that it simply all began again.
The choice was mine to leave the train.

I need not ride again and again.
All I needed was to know
and the desire that I should go,
to leave the train and travel on,
to see their fate, and find my own.

Wednesday, October 12, 2005


If I talk all the time,
I need not listen to you.

If I think all the time
I need not listen to me.

If I sit so still I can hear the grass grow,
I will learn the secrets of the universe.

I Am Not Crushed

Traveling on the river's current,
I find the distance to the shore
allows a separateness from life
along the shores I travel past.
I see. I care, and help when I can
but I am not crushed.

Tuesday, October 11, 2005


Do bloodlines make us sisters?
Is there some matching process in the genes
that approves or denies sisterhood?

Whole, by blood, I have none,
But, more sisters than blood can make us,
I have many.

Sisterhood is built up slowly
With shared thoughts, shared emotion
and shared memory as building blocks.

Sisterhood grants us understanding, companionship.
Mutual respect, support when we need it
And freedom to explore our won depths.

What the he** is a half-sister>

Sunday, October 09, 2005

WA - Harmony

If I could fill my life with just one thing,
This would have to be it.
If I could teach just one thing,
I hope this can be it.

Like the ripples on a still pool,
Disharmony can be created through
Internal or external forces.

Also, like a still pool,
Harmony may be restored
By allowing the ripples to slow and cease.

Let me not create the agitation
That destroys my harmony.
Let me not feed the agitation
created by outside forces.

Let me, instead, allow the ripples to slow then cease,

Restoring my inner harmony constantly,
until the ripples on the surface
No longer affect the depths of the pool.

Saturday, October 08, 2005


Sometimes I feel like a river
traveling to join again with the sea,
but along the way there is so much.
I pass through a desert, and I want to share
so that the desert may grow green and bloom,
but I can affect only a little of it
and only for a little while.

I pass over the rocky cliffs
of the problems of those I love.
I feel their pain, but I can not smooth the way.
The pain is not mine, nor does it ultimately matter
but still it hurts, not being able to make
their way a little easier with the knowledge
that this too will pass.

Sometimes I become a very shallow river
and fear that I may dry up and never make it home.
Those times, I need to withdraw within my banks
and remember that the floods will come again.
This life goes on until it is over,
just as the river goes on until it joins another,
then on again, growing, learning
and searching for it's ultimate self.

The events along the course of the river
all serve to change, refine and purify it.
As such, they are only temporary
and should be accepted with tranquility.
The problems arise when the river wants to share
it's destiny with those it meets along the way.
There are few traveling in the same direction
and rivers seldom travel with other rivers.

There is great peace in accepting your course,
trying to nurture those you touch along the way,
but there is also great frustration in
not being able to share that peace with others.
My course may change, I may grow wider, narrower,
deeper, or shallower, but always I am still the river
traveling to the next stage of development.

Friday, October 07, 2005

Things Of The Day

There must be a way to share the understanding
that the things of today are only today and have,
as such, no ultimate reality. Since they have no
reality, they should cause only passing discomfort,
and not be allowed to discolor tomorrow.

It Hurts

What urges us on to gather together the great thoughts which
have shaped our lives? Why can two people be exposed to the
same concept and one totally identify with it as a basic rule of living,
and the other simply dismiss it as a few words strung together, of no
consequence? Why do we try, time and time again, to express our
innermost feelings and beliefs in a language which is too inadequate
to even express varying shades of pain?
What do you mean when you say "It hurts."?
It hurts.

Thursday, October 06, 2005


Once I found a guide
and made of him an idol.
I took his light
and used it as my own.
I followed his path
and forgot about my own.
In a patch of sunlight
I began to see his faults
and condemned him for his flaws
that I had refused to see.
I forgot that he had offered
only to lend a light
to see me on my way,
and the idol I believed him
was only in my mind.

Tuesday, October 04, 2005

The Watcher

The Watcher

I am the watcher.
I see the dreams,
the thoughts,
the hopes and fears
that make up this life.

I forget who I am
and get wrapped up
in the drama
before my eyes.

But then,
I remember,
and again
I am the watcher.

Wednesday, September 28, 2005


Am I to be always alone,
Clutching at shadows that aren't really there?
Am I to be always wishing

For the simple things others take for granted?
Am I to be always searching
for a way to be totally content in my aloneness?

I guess alone is what you feel
When you realize there is no way
To show someone how you really feel.
It is like trying to tell a blind man
What a sunset looks like,
Or show a deaf man a symphony.

Tuesday, September 27, 2005


One small door, I could not open,
for monsters lingered there.
The others all were easier,
for I knew what they must be.

In keeping shut that little door,
I fought the tides of life,
but, one morning bright and early,
I allowed myself to travel through.

Behind the door that scared me so,
the monsters were so small,
and feared the light to such degree,
that passing glimpses only, did I see.

Beyond the door lay light
and warmth enough to spur me on,
to open each new door I find
and let the light grow brighter still.

Monday, September 26, 2005


Whenever you have found a sense of inner harmony,
the world comes crashing in
and shatters it like a mirror.
It takes so long to put the pieces back together.

However, it doesn't really matter,
You still have the memory,
and, somehow
it wasn't really shattered ......

It is a liquid morrir......
and only the surface
was momentarily disturbed.

Sunday, September 25, 2005

Where Are You

Somewhere there must be another like me,
someone who understands the aloneness,
the always being different,
seeing things in a different light.

Sometimes, it is hard to be alone in myself,
with no one who really understands
that the things which happen,
the pain and the problems are alright.
they don't really matter.

Only the love and caring matter.
It is not what we cope with, but how we cope.
We must continue to grow and reach out
to help others to do the same.

Time is ruining out, and sometimes
I almost know something really important,
but I can't quite put my finger on it.
Perhaps it is best that I don't know.

Do you know? wherever you are.

Saturday, September 24, 2005


If I could change the world and make it better, what would I change? First, I would have to determine what I mean by better: better for who? better for what?

Since we have already changed so many things to make them better, I should start out by examining the improvements that have already been made: pollution, extinction, violence, crowding .... Somehow, I doubt that this is what we had in mind when we began improving. It is rather like free love. Is it love? Is it free? It all depends on your point of reference. A true improvement must stand up to examination from all reference points.

Next, on what plane should this change take place? the physical? the mental? the emotional? the spiritual? the ultimate reality of being? Whatever it is, it should have a positive effect on all planes. If we are in a school in which we are to learn, then the only logical place to make improvements is in the teaching methods so that we may learn faster and better, in order that we may more quickly reach the ultimate goal.

But this is a free school in which each of us is permitted to learn at our own rate, so that we may recognize the goal when we do reach it. Change should therefore, not affect the rate of learning.

Is there really anything that should be done to improve this school we call our world.

Friday, September 23, 2005



If there is a purpose to each of the lives we live, then my purpose in this one is to just be there ... not to reach out ... but to simply be there when the time is right, to be strong in my own reality, so that it can be used to help others find their own.

But why is there no one for me to reach out to when my strength is depleted, someone to understand that the weakness is only temporary and that it is alright to hurt.

My problems are not my own, but only those things which others choose to share with me. They are the frustrations of not being able to help someone to be happy, never able to give enough.

Please help me to find more so that I may give more. Help me to share the Cosmic Peace.


All my life, I have made the decisions I made because, in each instance, no other course seemed open to me. As difficult as some decisions were to make, I felt that any other choice would be impossible to live with. There is a particular life to live, a destiny to fulfill and a lesson to learn, a road that I must travel.

The only area in which I have fought my destiny has been in acknowledging my inner self and the experiences and feelings which go with this awakening. This was because they frightened me with the intensity of the pain that can be felt, and the uncharted course that must be followed. In the attempt, I suppressed the biggest part of myself and fought against the tide of my life.

Since acknowledging these feelings, I have allowed myself to start again on the long journey of self-discovery, which is every person's right. The journey is necessary and seems to be happening with no effort on my part, I need only let it happen.

There is much strength and good in my "self", more than enough to deal with the monsters that frightened me so much. I am more complete, more content and more capable. There is a distance between my "self" and my experiences which seems to allow me to feel, but not to be crushed by the experience. This cessation of the struggle against the tide of my life will bring me greater peace, tranquility and strength than i have ever known. This is a journey that i must take.

Thursday, September 22, 2005


She breezes in and breezes out
like a breath of fresh air,
Like a ray of stray sunshine.

She is as predictable as our weather,
as exciting as tomorrow,
and as changing as a kaleidoscope.

She is as gullible as a child,
as resilient as a willow,
and as wise as the ageless (when she stops to think).

Knowing her has brought both
tears and laughter in abundance,
and I will miss her when she moves on.

Peace Posted by Picasa


These poems, jottings, observations were written in the late 1970s and early 80s, when I was in my early 30s. They have only recently come to light again, begging for something to be done with them.

So I am transcribing them here, but the feeling is not going away! I will continue to post them here, but am also collecting them into a small volume which will be available some time before December. Hopefully anyone who would really enjoy or benefit will stumble on this blog or the little book.

It is strange that at 61, I have no urge to change them. I am on the same path now as I was then, perhaps a little farther along.

Thank you all for reading them.