There is simply too much posted on Fb about the corrupt president. Everyone knows he is the destroyer of anything with which he comes in contact. People do not realize how this continual negativity affects their bodymind. I know, I know, we are all frustrated with government.
How about we turn that around and call all the reps/senators and vent to them? Tell them they need to start job hunting because the citizens will vote them out. Explain what you want changed and write it down before you call. Use your speech well.
I was recently listening to an NPR broadcast on our increased expectations. With everything. That we go on and on and on about a particular subject. In particular, they were talking about the way parents handle their children. That they set up 'play dates' with an expectation of certain behaviors/outcomes occuring.
"Well, she didn't socialize much."
"It was all so very disappointing."
Do consider that these children are two and three years old. They are just learning to socialize. This takes time. We don't need daily report cards or an analysis of their minute by minute behavior. We look at trends, adjust where need and just love and enjoy them. These years pass quickly.
You know what they say about all work and no play.
Tuesday, January 15, 2019
Sunday, January 13, 2019
Older Women
"When I told my friends I was writing a book on older women like us, they immediately protested, “I am not old.” What they meant was that they didn’t act or feel like the cultural stereotypes of women their age. Old meant bossy, useless, unhappy and in the way. Our country’s ideas about old women are so toxic that almost no one, no matter her age, will admit she is old."
https://www.nytimes.com/2019/01/12/opinion/sunday/women-older-happiness.html?smid=fb-nytopinion&smtyp=cur&fbclid=IwAR20Wgooa4l7ZEvAL2TWmitLakjnQq8KGfFN-gRIg5BFzN063nuZghkVJRQ
https://www.nytimes.com/2019/01/12/opinion/sunday/women-older-happiness.html?smid=fb-nytopinion&smtyp=cur&fbclid=IwAR20Wgooa4l7ZEvAL2TWmitLakjnQq8KGfFN-gRIg5BFzN063nuZghkVJRQ
Thursday, January 10, 2019
Synchronicity
Nearly everyone is experiencing it. Synchronicity. Some believe it started this past week for them. Others say it is ongoing. Something is in the air.
Synchronicity is an ever present reality for those who have the eyes to see. — Carl Jung
We know that everything is connected. Even Trump stealing the election had to happen. It had to happen to make people wake up. Stand up and change things.
For myself, I've had lots of deja vu along with synchronicities. What happens for me is that time stands still. Total silence. It is as if my bodymind can't move further until the thought is validated and remembered.
"Oh, yeah."
Sometimes they are separate events but lately they are intertwined. But everything is anyway.
That Michael Cohen will be testifying before Congress soon is a part of all of this. It is shades of Watergate. I don't think this will be an isolated event. I think Mueller is just beginning.
Everything experiences a correction when things are out of balance. The little messages - the deja vu, increase in synchronicities remind us to pay attention. It is reminiscent of seeing the deer outside my atrium door recently. Deer are gentle beings. They remind us to be determined and certain even in difficult situations.
A neighbor said she saw a three legged deer the other day. Three legs. Yet it is still strong, determined and enduring what could have been a rough situation. It keeps going. Just as we will keep going.
Synchronicity happens for a reason. It moves us toward a healthier direction. It opens our eyes.
Synchronicity is an ever present reality for those who have the eyes to see. — Carl Jung
We know that everything is connected. Even Trump stealing the election had to happen. It had to happen to make people wake up. Stand up and change things.
For myself, I've had lots of deja vu along with synchronicities. What happens for me is that time stands still. Total silence. It is as if my bodymind can't move further until the thought is validated and remembered.
"Oh, yeah."
Sometimes they are separate events but lately they are intertwined. But everything is anyway.
That Michael Cohen will be testifying before Congress soon is a part of all of this. It is shades of Watergate. I don't think this will be an isolated event. I think Mueller is just beginning.
Everything experiences a correction when things are out of balance. The little messages - the deja vu, increase in synchronicities remind us to pay attention. It is reminiscent of seeing the deer outside my atrium door recently. Deer are gentle beings. They remind us to be determined and certain even in difficult situations.
A neighbor said she saw a three legged deer the other day. Three legs. Yet it is still strong, determined and enduring what could have been a rough situation. It keeps going. Just as we will keep going.
Synchronicity happens for a reason. It moves us toward a healthier direction. It opens our eyes.
Friday, September 7, 2018
Life Among The Weirs?
It was early morning. I had gotten to the massage therapist a half hour early. I'd been across town seeing the chiropractor, a new one for me. With all the road construction, I took backroads and didn't want to be late.
With a a temperature in the upper fifties, the salt air called me. Across the sandy, broken parking lot as Maine winters often do, a slice of grass, another parking lot in better repair and there it was. Casco Bay. Seagulls were everywhere enjoying the thermals as a noticeable breeze provided them an easy flight.
Two grizzly looking men in their late forties were talking. The one in the green truck looked about the parking lot. His eyes never left me. The other man, also in jeans leaned into the truck on the driver's side. He also watched me.
I walked toward the marina and heard it. I could hear the engine running from the well used sedan from the late 70s. As I passed the faded blue sedan with dents abounding, it was evident that there was no one inside.
Then it occurred to me. Was this a drug dealing going on?
With a a temperature in the upper fifties, the salt air called me. Across the sandy, broken parking lot as Maine winters often do, a slice of grass, another parking lot in better repair and there it was. Casco Bay. Seagulls were everywhere enjoying the thermals as a noticeable breeze provided them an easy flight.
Two grizzly looking men in their late forties were talking. The one in the green truck looked about the parking lot. His eyes never left me. The other man, also in jeans leaned into the truck on the driver's side. He also watched me.
I walked toward the marina and heard it. I could hear the engine running from the well used sedan from the late 70s. As I passed the faded blue sedan with dents abounding, it was evident that there was no one inside.
Then it occurred to me. Was this a drug dealing going on?
Thursday, August 30, 2018
Running The AT?
The Appalachian Trail is a 2,200 mile journey over mountains, roads, towns and farmland. Historically, it has become a mindful journey. A long and challenging walk through yourself.
While it is a hike through some of the most beautiful land on the eastern coast, it also has its challenges. Black bear, poisonous snakes, insect bites, rough terrain, mosquitoes, and poison ivy. Among other not so healthly experiences, the mind also has its own journey.
You mostly walk with self, often accompanied by other thru-hikers. But you do the bulk of the trail work inside yourself. That can include climbing over fallen trees, rocks, streams. It also includes working out your head stuff.
Like so many things so simplistic for the gifts they offer, walking the trail has become a sort of record thing. Speed Like Ms. Pharr who ran the 2,200 miles meeting her husband nightly with food and supplies. Or the recent person who beat her journey. Now the Belgian dentist, Karel Sabbe, has topped Ms. Pharr's record. Most of the thru-hikers carry their own packs. They have designed restocking sites. There is no time clock other than the weather.
I wonder if we now should be measuring the JOY one has in completing a task, walking the walk. Maybe it is time to compete to see who grows more academically, emotionally, is in better shape than their counterparts.
I thought the measurement, if there is one, was to be inner growth. It wasn't about bragging rights, appearing in recreational magazines. Here is what was written about the experience:
"Hiking the trail is not just a physical accomplishment; it’s transformative in other ways as well. Hikers’ experiences of rebirth are not merely figurative and don’t always disappear after the hike is over. Some feel they’re communing with God while on the trail; for others, it restores their faith in humanity. Because hikers are away from family, friends, and significant others for weeks or months at a time, they must trust and rally behind one another. More than one romantic relationship and countless friendships have started on the trail and continued once the hike is over. The trail has its “sacred sites” — not only gatherings like Trail Days but also the shelters, camping areas, and towns along the way, where hikers laugh, dance, and tell stories of adventures, of hiker traditions, of trail magic, and of the heroes and legends that have grown up around the arduous walk. It also has its sacred texts, in the form of guidebooks and shelter journals, which hikers sign upon arrival at each outpost, debating philosophy, telling jokes, letting others know about “unfriendlies” in the area, working through their own inner struggles, and inspiring those whose energy is flagging. Many are at a crossroads in life and are searching for answers, and their fellow travelers or the trail itself eventually provide them, though the revelations do not come quickly or easily."
https://www.bostonglobe.com/magazine/2015/09/09/inside-mind-appalachian-trail-hiker/HZQS53jPKcj6wirW2Ll0LM/story.html
Remind me again, what kind of 'trail magic' you are getting when you run the AT?
While it is a hike through some of the most beautiful land on the eastern coast, it also has its challenges. Black bear, poisonous snakes, insect bites, rough terrain, mosquitoes, and poison ivy. Among other not so healthly experiences, the mind also has its own journey.
You mostly walk with self, often accompanied by other thru-hikers. But you do the bulk of the trail work inside yourself. That can include climbing over fallen trees, rocks, streams. It also includes working out your head stuff.
Like so many things so simplistic for the gifts they offer, walking the trail has become a sort of record thing. Speed Like Ms. Pharr who ran the 2,200 miles meeting her husband nightly with food and supplies. Or the recent person who beat her journey. Now the Belgian dentist, Karel Sabbe, has topped Ms. Pharr's record. Most of the thru-hikers carry their own packs. They have designed restocking sites. There is no time clock other than the weather.
I wonder if we now should be measuring the JOY one has in completing a task, walking the walk. Maybe it is time to compete to see who grows more academically, emotionally, is in better shape than their counterparts.
I thought the measurement, if there is one, was to be inner growth. It wasn't about bragging rights, appearing in recreational magazines. Here is what was written about the experience:
"Hiking the trail is not just a physical accomplishment; it’s transformative in other ways as well. Hikers’ experiences of rebirth are not merely figurative and don’t always disappear after the hike is over. Some feel they’re communing with God while on the trail; for others, it restores their faith in humanity. Because hikers are away from family, friends, and significant others for weeks or months at a time, they must trust and rally behind one another. More than one romantic relationship and countless friendships have started on the trail and continued once the hike is over. The trail has its “sacred sites” — not only gatherings like Trail Days but also the shelters, camping areas, and towns along the way, where hikers laugh, dance, and tell stories of adventures, of hiker traditions, of trail magic, and of the heroes and legends that have grown up around the arduous walk. It also has its sacred texts, in the form of guidebooks and shelter journals, which hikers sign upon arrival at each outpost, debating philosophy, telling jokes, letting others know about “unfriendlies” in the area, working through their own inner struggles, and inspiring those whose energy is flagging. Many are at a crossroads in life and are searching for answers, and their fellow travelers or the trail itself eventually provide them, though the revelations do not come quickly or easily."
https://www.bostonglobe.com/magazine/2015/09/09/inside-mind-appalachian-trail-hiker/HZQS53jPKcj6wirW2Ll0LM/story.html
Remind me again, what kind of 'trail magic' you are getting when you run the AT?
Sunday, August 26, 2018
A Churchie For A Day
This morning I decided to explore my area more. There is a church in town that has a pretty open orientation to belief systems. this isn't my first visit to this denoination. I went to a Unitarian church in elementary school. My mother seemed to think she should expose us to 'religion.' And so we were exposed.
My first memories about this church was that I had to awaken too early on Sunday mornings. It was a long drive to Baltimore city, some forty minutes or so. I was usually sick in the stomach both from the long drive and mom's incessant smoking.
It was a large and magnificent building called the First Unitarian Church of Baltimore. I remember asking my mom how they knew to make it the first? Did they anticipate others?
Sometimes my brother and I sat in the adult church service. Other times we went to the children's Sunday school. I did like the Sunday school and I really liked the teachers. Plus, the refreshments afterward were bountiful.
Not much for 'organized' religion, I thought the Unitarians deserved another try. Besides, I may meet people in my small community. The grounds for the church were large, with every kind of northern wildflower you might imagine. I was perplexed to figure out which building of the two was the sanctuary. I was early so there wasn't a soul outside to ask. Then I saw the sign eclipsed bya low branched group of trees:
SANCTUARY
OFFICE
The inside of the church was non-descript. No icons, no religious material, just nice veiling beams and an openness to it.
Almost immediately, I was welcomed by a Buddhist woman who was the official 'greeter.' After a short walk into the open space, another woman announced that there is no minister during the summer. A recording of music by Peter was played on the screen along with the lyrics. That lay people lead the service.
Earlier I had googled the website to learn the talk would be on COSMOLOGY. Not much of a follower of that, I thought at least the question and answer period would be interested. as an experiencer, you can imagine the myriad of questions I had. This is going to be fun, I thought. Instead, she read from a prepared text, rarely looking up at her audience. Then she invited us to come up to her alter for some star dust and a sip of tea.
"Star dust?"
I was more than intrigued. I quickly cued in only to find some glitter doused into my left palm. The rest of the service I spent trying to remove it. I was afraid I might be tatooed for life. Worst, I had been lied to! I thought, hoped that NASA might share some of this for the greater good.
The tea cups were about the size one might enjoy for a child's tea party. One teaspoon of tea was barely evident in each cup and I was careful not to consume before the 'unity gathering' officially took place. I sure didn't want my sipping to exclude anyone.
Maybe I'll wait til the fall when the interim minister returns. I may just get a better sense of the church. Or not.
My first memories about this church was that I had to awaken too early on Sunday mornings. It was a long drive to Baltimore city, some forty minutes or so. I was usually sick in the stomach both from the long drive and mom's incessant smoking.
It was a large and magnificent building called the First Unitarian Church of Baltimore. I remember asking my mom how they knew to make it the first? Did they anticipate others?
Sometimes my brother and I sat in the adult church service. Other times we went to the children's Sunday school. I did like the Sunday school and I really liked the teachers. Plus, the refreshments afterward were bountiful.
Not much for 'organized' religion, I thought the Unitarians deserved another try. Besides, I may meet people in my small community. The grounds for the church were large, with every kind of northern wildflower you might imagine. I was perplexed to figure out which building of the two was the sanctuary. I was early so there wasn't a soul outside to ask. Then I saw the sign eclipsed bya low branched group of trees:
SANCTUARY
OFFICE
The inside of the church was non-descript. No icons, no religious material, just nice veiling beams and an openness to it.
Almost immediately, I was welcomed by a Buddhist woman who was the official 'greeter.' After a short walk into the open space, another woman announced that there is no minister during the summer. A recording of music by Peter was played on the screen along with the lyrics. That lay people lead the service.
Earlier I had googled the website to learn the talk would be on COSMOLOGY. Not much of a follower of that, I thought at least the question and answer period would be interested. as an experiencer, you can imagine the myriad of questions I had. This is going to be fun, I thought. Instead, she read from a prepared text, rarely looking up at her audience. Then she invited us to come up to her alter for some star dust and a sip of tea.
"Star dust?"
I was more than intrigued. I quickly cued in only to find some glitter doused into my left palm. The rest of the service I spent trying to remove it. I was afraid I might be tatooed for life. Worst, I had been lied to! I thought, hoped that NASA might share some of this for the greater good.
The tea cups were about the size one might enjoy for a child's tea party. One teaspoon of tea was barely evident in each cup and I was careful not to consume before the 'unity gathering' officially took place. I sure didn't want my sipping to exclude anyone.
Maybe I'll wait til the fall when the interim minister returns. I may just get a better sense of the church. Or not.
Friday, August 24, 2018
Maine, Minerals And Me
It's a lovely day in southern Maine. I just got off the phone from a friend in the southern town in western Carolina where I lived for years. My friend calls with a report on how things look from my home exterior. A trained naturalist, the friend just returned from Maine. We spoke about areas we both love to visit.
It's the little things in life that are so endearing. A phone call from a distant friend, distant only in geography. Good friends are never far away. They ensure you know that by checking in. I still keep up with friends from elementary school.
Soon the pressure washer fellow will arrive. Then the fellow who will repair things damaged in the move. When my favorite teal glass lamp is repaired, a new coastal style white shutter chest will arrive a week or so later. The teal lamp with a new shade will really spruce up the room. Then I will have a coastal painting reframed. Did I already tell you this in an earlier blog? If so, just know I have a lot going on. <giggles> Of course, all of this will take a few more weeks. Especially, getting into the cue for the repairs. Apparently, now they send out an estimator. Then find a repair person, furniture cleaner, etc.
The twig table as well as the lamp will probably need to be taken to the repair shop for a week. I can't wait to get them back and to use them. Yes, more weeks to wait.
While all of that is in the cue, I await my feathery flock of friends.
The birds haven't visited the bird feeder yet. It may take a few weeks. Last night I put out my four solar lights near the boundary of my land and the preserve. Soon, I will put out the trail camera to see what visits in the night. I can't wait to see what is out and about in the wee hours.
Land is a curious thing. We are all just passing through it. I like living on it gently. Doing no harm.
Did you know that in Maine, mineral rights to land automatically convey with the land? They don't out west. I found after an extensive google search, this information was not readily available. But then, that isn't odd is it? Especially in a country that values energy and capitalism over people.
Maine has a unique value of the land and of its people. They really are leaders in the environmental movement. I really shouldn't call it a movement because it has always been a way of life for them. Maine keeps it simple.
"Knock, knock."
"Who's there?"
"I am."
"I am, who?"
"I am a Mainer."
It's the little things in life that are so endearing. A phone call from a distant friend, distant only in geography. Good friends are never far away. They ensure you know that by checking in. I still keep up with friends from elementary school.
Soon the pressure washer fellow will arrive. Then the fellow who will repair things damaged in the move. When my favorite teal glass lamp is repaired, a new coastal style white shutter chest will arrive a week or so later. The teal lamp with a new shade will really spruce up the room. Then I will have a coastal painting reframed. Did I already tell you this in an earlier blog? If so, just know I have a lot going on. <giggles> Of course, all of this will take a few more weeks. Especially, getting into the cue for the repairs. Apparently, now they send out an estimator. Then find a repair person, furniture cleaner, etc.
The twig table as well as the lamp will probably need to be taken to the repair shop for a week. I can't wait to get them back and to use them. Yes, more weeks to wait.
While all of that is in the cue, I await my feathery flock of friends.
The birds haven't visited the bird feeder yet. It may take a few weeks. Last night I put out my four solar lights near the boundary of my land and the preserve. Soon, I will put out the trail camera to see what visits in the night. I can't wait to see what is out and about in the wee hours.
Land is a curious thing. We are all just passing through it. I like living on it gently. Doing no harm.
Did you know that in Maine, mineral rights to land automatically convey with the land? They don't out west. I found after an extensive google search, this information was not readily available. But then, that isn't odd is it? Especially in a country that values energy and capitalism over people.
Maine has a unique value of the land and of its people. They really are leaders in the environmental movement. I really shouldn't call it a movement because it has always been a way of life for them. Maine keeps it simple.
"Knock, knock."
"Who's there?"
"I am."
"I am, who?"
"I am a Mainer."
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