Wednesday, May 31, 2017

The Soup




Over time I have wavered on the idea of manifestation being the real deal or if someone merely created the concept to sell a ton of books and videos. Personally, my luck comes sporadically and at the bottom of life's proverbial well. But I have noticed something about successful people. First off, they work really hard. Secondly, many of them go through a period of complete and utter loss before success is allowed to come in. Carson McCullers, a master of introspective writing, was set to become a concert pianist when she fell ill and was forced to recuperate at home. She then worked at various jobs and studied creative writing at night, thus beginning a new and much more lucrative path. She had tried in vain to manifest a career in music, but perhaps what she wanted all along was to write, even if it wasn't directly obvious at the time. Perhaps her illness was a physical manifestation of those inner workings, her inner desires.

So it seems the true art of manifestation is loss and surrender. To be willing to give up everything for a promise of the unknown.

Carson did go on to weave her musical experience into her writing, so it wasn't all a waste. That's another thing successful people do: they waste nothing. Every experience is valuable and to be thrown into the soup pot. I love the way she wrote about the various quirks and failures of humanity, all with an essence of humor and love.

Have you ever been forced to give up an old way of life in order to receive something better?

Thank you so much for stopping by. I wish you a wonderful day!

Monday, May 29, 2017

John, Janis, Jim

Hey you beautiful people, I started a new blog about my three favorite musicians: John Lennon, Janis Joplin, and Jim Morrison. If that's your sort of thing, check it out!

LINK

Wednesday, May 24, 2017

Hey, Star

Why not post another trippy thing for you to ponder? Here's something I came up with, and no, I don't use drugs.

The Big Bang happened, right, and all that matter shot out into a black void and created the Universe: stars, planets, you-name-it. Here on Earth things boiled for a while, then steamed and eventually out of all that primordial heat came life. We slithered, crawled, walked on all fours and became walkin' talkin' bipeds.

We are flesh and blood, but we are also made up of elements. All of that space matter and the elements attached--earth, water, fire, air--is our flesh and blood. Some of us are more fire, some water, etc. I personally have a lot of everything. But a fire person would be more creative and passionate, they like travel and sports. The downside is they are completely incapable of sitting still and accepting life's complexities at base level--they want to fight and challenge it to death and then move on to the next battle. A water person is more languid and emotional, they love to consume their diet in liquids, and yes, they do tend to have problems with substance and alcohol abuse--and like water, they creep and run into the deep rivers of thoughts and feelings. Air people love books, languages, justice, thought, roles and relationships, legalities, etc. Never get into an argument with an air element unless you have Google and a Webster's dictionary at hand. Earth people love nature, animals, food, luxuries, are very sensible and grounded, warm, but extremely stubborn, and just like the big rock they live on, ain't going nowhere when it comes to ideals and points they wish to make.

We come from the outer realms. We are everything. It's in us. And out of us.

So if anyone says that you are nothing, you can answer, "Wrong. I am a capsule of the Universe. If I were nothing I'd be invisible."

What element are you?


Tuesday, May 23, 2017

Here's lookin' at you, kid

photo credit: pedrosimoes7 The tree's eyes via photopin (license)
Have you ever noticed how trees of a certain age have eyes? It sounds a bit out there, but recently I started seeing eyes instead of knots where limbs were cut off, and now I refer to them as the 'windows' of a tree's soul. You'll never see one the same way again. Or is it seeing you?

They say you can ground yourself by hugging or sitting at the foot of a tree. The roots go so deep into a dark, parallel world of carbon and fire. We are life and we are stardust. We are everything of the earth, and beyond. To sit at the base is to be centered and put right with all this magic. Like a phone on a charger.

When someone hurts you, intentionally or unintentionally, it cuts. Even if we hide our pain, there is an invisible cut. Endings, deaths, denials. Our wounds heal eventually and turn into scars. Each scar is a visible remnant of that time when we were forced to grow into a new phase or mindset. Our soul has a million rings, is so rich with experience, culled together from the first breath.

It is impossible to go through life without pain. In fact, we need it, or else, why be born in the first place? Life wasn't meant to sit in a lounger and sip champagne. It was meant for the ultimate experience. The good and the bad.

Perhaps you have eyes that don't blink, cuts that don't bleed. Perhaps you are covered with an indelible, invisible bark, and your soul reaches down into an abyss of the earth's soul.

Perhaps you are wiser than you think.

How many 'eyes' do you have?

Monday, May 15, 2017

Lif in the Microcosm



photo credit: Onasill ~ Bill Badzo Ritzville Washington  ~ Historic Main Street ~ Small Town America via photopin (license)


My daughter and I visited a small town the other day and as usual I people watched from the corners of my eyes. I've always been fascinated by these little microcosms of society ruled by Christianity and red meat, Saturday night drink-a-thons and usually a ton of 1950-ish dogmatic beliefs. In the car later I was talking about how these small towns have existed for so long without any change, and isn't that funny, but in a way beautiful. However, they won't last much longer because eventually the rest of the world will encroach on their bubble and bring about a slow but lasting shift.

So Frank works at the slaughterhouse. His father works there, his friends work there, and they all drink beer on Saturday night and then go to church on Sunday. Frank meets a girl, gets married, and soon a baby is on the way. A boy. They name him John. Well, John is a free spirit, he likes to dance, he doesn't care about looking like a boy or a girl, and he hates meat. His parents seek comfort in the church and are told to reject all evil. But it's their kid. Is John evil? So first, they whip him, then they take him hunting, then to the slaughterhouse, then they forcibly cut his hair and demand that he acts like everyone else. Lastly, they shun John and tell him to get out because if they can't change him they can't love him.

But John is still John, and the seeds of his lessons stay behind, eroding and eradicating the dogmatic ways of his parent's generation. Years go by and the parents adapt. They can accept the hair, the open thinking, and eventually, they'll come to accept John completely, because love heals all.

You can already see it. The new generations see how the rigid, rules we live by just aren't working anymore, and they will change it because somehow they know it's time. And that's beautiful. What do you think?

I wish you a great day. Thank you so much for stopping by!



Thursday, May 11, 2017

Nature Speaks To Us All

Just wanted to write the quickest post in the world to talk about how nature mirrors everyday life events. Have you ever noticed things such as the birds acting crazy on the same day you're having a chaotic life experience, or maybe there's absolutely no weather at all when things for you are serene? I do feel that nature is spirit's way to talk to us, and if we learn how to interpret the messages we gain insight on how to navigate through our difficult and sometimes confusing lives.

Last week when the political world was in chaos with the healthcare system being torn apart, forcing millions of American to lose vital medical care, the hawks were out stealing from the nests of other birds. Now, I love hawks, but I cringe when they do this each year. The other, much smaller, birds fought back, yet as we can all guess a robin hasn't much chance against a falcon. It breaks my heart, but it is nature and I respect the process. However, I found it interesting that at the same time the very fabric of security—our life and health—was being stolen from us, and more importantly, from our children. Without going into my political views, I find it intersecting how the hawks mirrored the events of the day.

If you look closely, you will find the same ability to predict or measure your life through the nature around you. All it takes is a little bit of slowing down and time spent outside. Ask what it is you want to know, or need help with, and I guarantee the answer will be shown to you in so many various forms.

I wish you well.

A Millennial romp through Jane Austen

  A few years back I wrote this story about a fifteen-year-old girl named Frankie drudging through a very complicated life in a fictional sm...