Green. Yes, I'll use green to write this article because this color symbolizes healing, newness, and growth.And that's what life, or the living of life should be about. HO'OPONHOPONO, was a process that I heard about maybe a year ago. My daughter Kim gave me a book on HO'OPONHOPONO a year ago. She brought it over, handed it to me, asking me to read it and give her my opinion. I read the first few pages, and had a hard time wrapping my brain around it. Why? Because supposedly a mental health therapist:Dr. Ihaleakala Hew Len who worked in Hawaii and had cured the entire patient ward in a hospital for the mentally ill by using this mantra: I am sorry, forgive me, thank you, I love you.
Please read the entire story at this link: http://www.globalmeditations.com/hoopono.html But anytime something seems a bit way out, or too easy, I disregard it as hocus-pocus: Another person making money on a new age book. I set the book on a shelf. It was maybe six months later that Kim was going to a seminar based on " The Course In Miracles" and she hands me another book" The Disappearance of The Universe." by Gary Renard. Again she wanted me to read it, and give her my opinion. OK, this book I settled into because she kind of challenged me, and because it seemed to make understanding "The Course in Miracles" a bit easier to digest. Now the one thing I noticed was, both books," Ho'oponopono" , "TCIM", and" Disappearance of The Universe" had the same message: Forgiveness!!
As I recall Jesus spoke of forgiveness, " How many times should I forgive if someone sins against me?" Someone had asked Him. " Seventy times seven" He had replied. As I thought back to that bible passage, I began to think there must be something powerful about the ability to forgive. But, I have difficulty with forgiving. If I've been wronged I want to fight back, to defend myself. If there has been a major injustice done to a child, or someone helpless, I want to pummel the evil-doer with my fists. And yet I have discovered that all the junk out there that makes me so angry also lives in me. And that's why I react so strongly. That's why we all react so strongly; Why we're so ready to electrocute, inject to death those who perpetrate such horrific crimes. We'd rather not have to deal with the 'junk'. We'd rather not have reminders of what we too are capable of. Well, now I've found that the only way out of the hell we've made on earth is to forgive. When I forgive others, I am forgiving myself, too. Then there is healing. for all of us, for everything, even for the healing of Mother Earth. I am sorry. Forgive me. Thank you. I love you. This has become my mantra. Trust me, it's not easy, but it is the only way to peace of mind and heart.
Today, May 2nd , I awoke to the news of Osama bin Laden is dead. But , after listening to the details of the news, and after seeing photos of his compound; the blood soaked floor, supposedly with his blood, I am sorry, like the Munchkins in "The Wizard of Oz", I must ask, is he``` really, really, really dead? To prove to the Munchkins that the wicked witch was dead, there were the ruby slippers as evidence. But what real proof is there that Osama is dead? There is the words of President Obama. Cough, cough---political drama to assist him in the 2012 elections? Oh, come on now, some will say. I say . yes come on now, lets look at what we've been shown, and told. A bunch of Navy Seal helicopters buzzed their way into a pretty populated city in Pakistan;and not a single citizen heard this racket , nor reported it? This was not a silent move in, and kill scenario, then move out quietly. This was an all out automatic rifle assault! Plus the noise of the downed helicopter and none of the police in this city show up? Now also keep in mind this attack was no more than a short distance from Pakistan's military academy. What kind of a military academy are they running, that no one responded to the attack of Osama? Then the Navy Seals, according to the news reports we were fed, ransacked the compound for computers, then hosted Osama's body aboard a helicopter, off they sped towards the ocean and dumped his body into said ocean.: But they had some of his DNA to match against a sister of Osama: And so, they did the testing of this DNA aboard the helicopter? How did they know the results so quickly? It is of my humble understanding that results for DNA test can take up to at least a week or more.
If I would have been running this mission and wanted it to be believable, I would have stuffed his remains in a body bag along with some dry ice, and brought his remains back to the states with photos of the really, really, really dead bin Laden.
Listen, with this story we were handed , even the Munchkins of Oz wouldn't believe this tale!! And in addition, were we not paying Pakistan over a billion dollars to up their security on keeping an eye and ear out for Usama bin Laden? And as Judge Judy has often said, and I quote, " If it doesn't make sense, it isn't true!"
Unfortunately if this story is true , the killing will not put a stop to the terrorists attacks on our country, or in other countries.
The return of Christ I scan the heavens for, And would gladly Lay this life away With a quick and final glance towards earth, and say the devil was a nimble dancer.
Did you ever get the feeling that you were speaking in a language that only you understood? Like E=mc2? Yesterday I tried 15 times to log in to my Flickr account. I had completed a set of six new silk scarves and wanted to share the photos on Flickr, as I have done since 2007. When I attempted to log in, I got a page telling to simply use my yahoo ID, which I did. I was immediately sent to a page explaining oops, but for some reason my attempt had failed. AS suggested , I tried changing my password. I went to yahoo, changed my password, answered two security questions, went back to Flickr where it stated I could use my yahoo ID and password to log in to Flickr. I tried it, and was sent back to the page that said, "oops". Well, the story only gets better.
Recall that TV ad that has the guy calling to find out how he can redeem his cash value points for using his credit card, and he gets " Peggy"on the phone.
After the 20th try I searched until I found a help center where I could email my plight to a customer care center( isn't that a dichotomy?) via email. OK, so today I received a reply from yahoo customer care with a phone number! I called and was quickly hooked up with a CC rep. I gave her all my info. She said, " Wait a minute until I put you on hold and do some research." I waited calmly until I heard a busy signal which indicated to me, she'd hung up,and probably accidentally, but we all know there are NO accidents. OK, I hung up, redialed and this time was put through to a guy whom I think was from Pakistan: I am thinking he hated white liberal, Christian American women. I could not understand a word he was saying. He seemed to be telling me to contact Flickr. I tried to communicate to him that Yahoo handled the sign in verification business. He kept saying, " No , to call the number that I had received in the yahoo email customer care department." I replied, " But this is the number they gave me, that's how I was put in contact with you." " Wrong department , " he replied in a strong Arabic tongue , " Call the number again!" He hung up, or I hung up. I wasn't sure if I felt like laughing or crying, because that commercial with " Betty" came to mind. OK, so 3rd time's a charm, they say. I called yahoo customer care again: About this time I was wondering why they call it "customer care" . The 3rd time a lady answers with a bit of, I think Indian accent, but I could understand for the most part what she was saying. I, for the 3rd time explained what was going on. When she stated she was putting me on hold, I almost climbed through the phone lines and was ready to lay prostrate at her feet, begging her not to hang up on me. She promised with a most sincere voice, that I believed, she would not hang up. She came back and instructed me to enter different Yahoo ID info. I told her I had done all that yesterday 20 times! She asked me if I recalled the last name of my bridesmaid. I replied," I hardly recall the date I was married; lady that was almost 40 tears ago. Besides, my bridesmaid has since remarried." OK, she says,"we are just going to reset your password." " But, I did that already yesterday. And I answered two new security questions."
She asks, "Do you have a yahoo email? Let's use that." " No, "I answered, "I have had the same aol email since 1999 and I am not changing that." Then she seemed to sense my getting near the edge of 'crazy'. " We'll make it simple, we'll just change your password." She told me what page to go to, gave me a code changing password. I did as I was instructed and finally, finally was able to log in to flickr. I didn't ask her what happened to the new password or security questions I had procured yesterday. I really didn't care anymore. But lordy, I recall all the hyperbole in the 50's and 60's , praising the future use of computers, of how it was to make our lives easier. I don't think so!
The bee had been about his business of gathering golden pollen, carried in bags on hairy legs.
He buzzed by a clear glass window to view his reflection, or he thought, that of another perhaps, a would -bee lover. To his dismay alas, demise got caught in the newly spun web of a spider, who waited with patience for supper.
This piece was based on a true story. I saw an ad in a local paper about a new poetry group that was starting at our local library. I am always interested in having that sort of creative energy around me, so I went to check it out. The gal who had posted the ad was there early, and I guess I was too. We got to talking about how writing thoughts and feelings helped to cleanse the mind and soul,".. although, I used to write more," she said. The poem will tell you , for me, the sad unbelievable story.
"Peter"
"I used to write more," she said. Her hands once filled with happy busyness of doing daily chores.
Now, she labors to keep her mind from crashing through the basement floor, burden to capacity with questions that no one seems to have answers for.
Wednesdays are her worst: The ghost of Peter haunts her with voices calling, " mommy,mommy" then disappear behind each open door and fade like mist on every mirror.
How was she to know a giant eagle would snatch him away--- And she wonders why in hell she feels so insecure.
Her two year old son , Peter, fell from a shopping cart in Giant Eagle, hit his head and died.
I love you, he says in a whisper, as if someone could hear in the middle of nowhere: He turns to leave forever.
I love you too she mouths from a distance, and turns away enough to cause dew to cry on rose petals in the center of a desert. She wonders if he can smell their fragrance.
The guy next door rakes leaves while the cold February winds blow. Shes gone, back to Burton, he said, the other day standing at my door shifting nervously from foot to foot not really knowing what to say.
Today, he holds the cold wood handle, a slump to his shoulders as he works at gathering the scattered leaves,straining his back.
His thoughts run like leaves tossed and tortured before a February wind, as he tries to rake them into a neat pile to burn.
The other day while sharing some journal entries with my grand daughter Rebbecca, she suggested that I get them published. I chuckled , thanked her for her support of my writings but replied, to have writing published is very rare occurrence: I would let that up to her after I left this worldly plane.
But that I would try to get some onto " In My Very Personal Opinion" blog.
Since spring is close by:
" Bluebirds of Happiness"
He talks to her in bird language;it's the nuances one needs to hear, and she replies by always starting out with 'dear'. At times the pitch is scolding--He sits silently and listens to really hear. He never seems to argue but when he wants his way he speaks to her in soft encouraging chirps then flutters his deep blue wings to sway and change her stubborn mind. How could any female not swoon and sail to the limb of life that he is perched upon? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
" Cat Gone"
Pewter left the presence of my cold indifference to cats. I struggled with that: I can be so neutral to cats. She was a princess wearing a gray and white fur---with Lynx hairs on her pointed ears; they added an aura of regal: Not the average barn or yard cat to be sure. Was a difficult choice to make--maybe the bluebirds will come back to nest outside my door.
