tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32200858656455933782024-02-18T18:25:17.822-08:00Lucy HamelAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07301844525913745602noreply@blogger.comBlogger32125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3220085865645593378.post-8447915846074197392020-10-20T01:12:00.003-07:002020-10-20T01:13:18.014-07:00Melt<p><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11px;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11px;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11px;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11px;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11px;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11px;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11px;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11px;"><br /></span></p><p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdTACvS1OiaES6gIQBwqWoSVedl7D77-laOtqK-TcuTeq5YLdIW5anqWcA5TTbNu5tc4zy7pIqL4FPW-wEIyktXjJSBq7qt9uUl_maa30ZHzBT-jcc0K0_tJ8FC_SYUTwSvSwrP6ycOtoc/s2048/DSC00277.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdTACvS1OiaES6gIQBwqWoSVedl7D77-laOtqK-TcuTeq5YLdIW5anqWcA5TTbNu5tc4zy7pIqL4FPW-wEIyktXjJSBq7qt9uUl_maa30ZHzBT-jcc0K0_tJ8FC_SYUTwSvSwrP6ycOtoc/w640-h426/DSC00277.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue";"><div style="font-size: 11px;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11px;"><br /></span></div><div style="font-size: 11px;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11px;"><br /></span></div><div style="font-size: 11px;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11px;"><br /></span></div><div style="font-size: 11px;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11px;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: medium;">I realized </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><div style="text-align: center;">one day</div></span></span><p></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">I could</span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">melt</span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">and bend </span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">with</span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">time</span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">I could </span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">change</span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">silently</span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">in</span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">a thousand </span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">years</span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">or </span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">instantaneously.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;"> </span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">A sizzling red </span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">can become </span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">a soft white</span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">Rolling waves</span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">and curly winds</span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">can be solid</span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">while wild storms</span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">and </span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">hot caresses </span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">can</span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">whisper</span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">what once<br /></span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">they were</span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">or are</span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">now</span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">Offering</span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">my skin</span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">a drink</span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">of </span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">the night</span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">to come</span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">and the</span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">coolness</span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">of the morning too</span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">I too</span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">hold</span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">a history</span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">a </span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">future light</span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">a place</span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">in</span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">wild now</span></p><div><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></div>Lucyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07819104047605202311noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3220085865645593378.post-6887230484098460382020-03-20T23:38:00.000-07:002020-03-20T23:44:10.187-07:00Only Love is Real * Perspective 3<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYDAur-_8nAJB1feAjD_eBBzchlvyDoeH1OrtIb49RNjsM-wXPaut8TURtn_RgXIJCv9mpqfu7idoa6E9CUfFA4KxRgCSWzp2EEYDTCt4QBDcTS8E6N_d3wyJbB1IJMDwP8SWcyumr2mMf/s1600/db_Avril_Haynes21.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="522" data-original-width="760" height="219" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYDAur-_8nAJB1feAjD_eBBzchlvyDoeH1OrtIb49RNjsM-wXPaut8TURtn_RgXIJCv9mpqfu7idoa6E9CUfFA4KxRgCSWzp2EEYDTCt4QBDcTS8E6N_d3wyJbB1IJMDwP8SWcyumr2mMf/s320/db_Avril_Haynes21.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="color: #1d2129; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Jacob loved that his walk was so silent. As a matter of fact he considered it a super power. He could enter a room undetected like a spy, unlike Sally who’s paws slipped all over the place. Even more ridiculous, her tongue was always hanging out. Yet she was always good for a laugh and you had to admire that nose of hers.</span></div>
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<div style="font-family: inherit; margin-bottom: 6px;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Something odd was going on. They both could smell it in the air. Changes that made their ears twitch.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Jacob jumped on the top shelf above the cook books and watched Adam put his dish away. It was odd to have Adam home at this time of day, he was usually at the shop, normally Jacob only got to spend an hour or so with him in the evening. Today was a luxury. A soft purr vibrated through him at the realization that home felt like home today. As soon as Adam went to rest on the couch, Jacob planned to warm that chest of his, until he felt the soothing and steady rhythm return to Adam’s breath. Yes, he would do that, if Adam ever stopped washing his hands.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">*</span></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Sally whined. A soft whistle. Adam dried his hands and turned towards Sally, “Ok girl. Lets go pee” Sally didn’t really need to pee, but she thought Adam could use a walk. He seemed so restless and trapped. She would show him the night sky and stars. Maybe she could teach him to smell spring under the melting snow. She would run in circles to make him laugh. She loved it when he laughed. It reminded her of a sneeze. Then she would give him a stick to throw. He needed to move, something inside of Adam needed to move. Sally spun in circles around Adams legs as he tried to put her collar on. “Come on Sally! Stay still”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Sally paused and sniffed the air. Yes, something inside of Adam needed to move and heal.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">On the window ledge Jacob watched Adam and Sally walk away into the night. Each keeping pace with the other. The light surrounding them becoming one.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Jacob hopped down and made his way to the couch, he would wait there until they returned. He knew Adam would go to wash his hands again. It was new, this constant hand washing, and took more time than usual.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Jacob approved.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">He practiced his most silent pounce, landing on the couch with grace. He lifted his paw and began his own cleaning, a long leisurely process he thoroughly enjoyed.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
Image: Avril Haynes</div>
</div>
Lucyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07819104047605202311noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3220085865645593378.post-88842376037100980292020-03-20T23:35:00.001-07:002020-03-20T23:43:49.613-07:00Only Love Is Real * Perspective 2<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJyOPnfaY62kW3AtcKjPQbx2kGxQfu3MFAOxESXn8NulROTfcwyxMtDbYXhY7EG3jn845YdQBNn24PA5fL1MyNma90j9MdxE25WvVwyG4WYFFawG9D4cIQQGKZQGf6B0WHa_vg8ov8W5Li/s1600/christian-schloe-time-to-fly.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="435" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJyOPnfaY62kW3AtcKjPQbx2kGxQfu3MFAOxESXn8NulROTfcwyxMtDbYXhY7EG3jn845YdQBNn24PA5fL1MyNma90j9MdxE25WvVwyG4WYFFawG9D4cIQQGKZQGf6B0WHa_vg8ov8W5Li/s320/christian-schloe-time-to-fly.jpg" width="231" /></a></div>
<div style="color: #1d2129; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Her closet was jam packed with clothes to make an impact. She had worked hard on this closet. Who she was, and how she expressed herself was on each hanger and shelf. Elena picked out a dress and held it up to her form and stared into the mirror. This totally sucked. If she couldn’t go out, there seemed to be no point to all these clothes. Bullshit. She was pissed. </span></div>
<div style="color: #1d2129; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">In the room next door, she heard her daughter Alina’s small fee<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit;">t padding across the wooden floor. Why was she not in the living room with the rest of the family? She wondered if her daughter was sad too. Damn, she felt at a total loss. How could she explain what was happening to the world? She herself had no idea. She walked to the window, her eyes landing on the old apple tree she climbed in as a child.</span></span></div>
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<div style="font-family: inherit; margin-bottom: 6px;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">“Wasn’t the adult supposed to have the answers?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">In her bedroom, young Alina waited for the sparrow who kept a nest in the tree right by her window.She wanted to tell the bird she would brush her Mom’s hair tonight to cheer her up.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Separated by a wall, woman and child stared out of their windows, one noticing the nest for the first time, the other knew it’s first twig. As each momentarily forgot the world, Mother and daughter began breathing in a synchronized melody of accord, an ancient rhythm written together in the womb of the hearts.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">*</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">If there was one thing Steven always prided himself on, it was his ability to remain in control. And now here he was, having to admit he didn’t know everything, all day long. Shit, couldn’t even use his brisk and efficient handshake during introductions to the new nurses. He was left to make eye contact, which he hated.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Marcus removed his surgical mask , his clothes and turned the shower on full. Steam filled the bathroom as he stepped under the stream of water and shut the stall door.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">In the fog of the bathroom mirror, spirit Arthur beheld his son with love, through the glass he could clearly see the water running down Stevens drawn face. ‘Water, please do your best and soothe my son. ‘</span></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Steven almost hiccuped an inhale into the misty cocoon of fog. Damn, he felt so weak when he cried.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Arthur wishes he could tell him everything would be ok, that not knowing would be his greatest teacher of heart. But that would take away from the wisdom.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">So he dispersed into the steam, to be inhaled by his son. An offering of love and apology.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">*</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Above the spirits sighed too, as a narrow path broke in the fog over the earth. It seeped in, like a small vein of life in space. As if an ancient heartbeat was being found. And memories of something long cherished was returning ever so slowly into the oxygen supply below.</span></div>
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*Image: Christian Schloe, Time to fly</div>
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Lucyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07819104047605202311noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3220085865645593378.post-52546961171509199942020-03-20T23:30:00.002-07:002020-03-20T23:41:14.891-07:00Only Love Is Real *. Perspective 1<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmRHDzMkk-eEPVSwcbDZTcXdcMERteibiyupwQMFclnIx9rUpp10t_rfZrCpyqp9k9ZBa0MyMiZTkPsK2RucbuAHlgT2uVs6jvnHcG7XcHG2Ab33iXGT_kkozu_6rdhk_HZr702rERbwXc/s1600/a884c49cfc43c0a02dfc82595a8204cb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="604" data-original-width="450" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmRHDzMkk-eEPVSwcbDZTcXdcMERteibiyupwQMFclnIx9rUpp10t_rfZrCpyqp9k9ZBa0MyMiZTkPsK2RucbuAHlgT2uVs6jvnHcG7XcHG2Ab33iXGT_kkozu_6rdhk_HZr702rERbwXc/s320/a884c49cfc43c0a02dfc82595a8204cb.jpg" width="238" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Some spirits witnessed the scenes of the day with a star’s eye view, others chose to sit within the earthly bounds. Watching as the people stumbled and faltered to a halt, stunned as if they were suddenly held by some invisible hand that could grasp the whole planet in it’s palm.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">The life they had been acting in, day in day out had been put on a pause. A pause to bring back something precious.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">A gift not of stagnancy, but of a rejuvenating stillness to awaken the soul…would they remember how to be?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">…the spirits gathered, to witness the awakening. Time moved just as it always had. Yet earthly human perception sat in its puzzle.</span></div>
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Adam stood at his kitchen window, mindlessly washing his plate. His gaze found his own reflection in the glass. The outer city lights framed his frown of confusion. He sighed and his belly grumbled in time with a volcano far away. </div>
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“what do I do now? I have been standing at my cash register for years, it’s all i know, what am I supposed to do if I don’t work?”</div>
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A seven year old Alina sat on her bed and smiled. She could hear her family in the next room. She had snuck away for a moment, only to stretch her face into this odd and full feeling of elation. It felt nice to be home, yet she almost felt guilty about that. The two feelings combined made her squeeze herself tight. She didn’t like school. She always felt stupid there, and trapped. She suddenly felt free. Never had she known a time where games would be played together, all together. This made her happy. Was that ok? Outside her window, the seed of a flower pushed a root outward, shifting the soil.</div>
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Karen reached her hand out to grasp the cool pole and the train shifted in its journey. She was going to keep moving as long as she could. Who the hell wanted to stay in? What was the point of stopping to think? Whatever was going to happen, well, its was going to happen anyway, right? She had no power over it. The train lurched and stopped. As she stepped onto the frozen snow her foot left an impression that altered the cold earth. Each step leaving a mark behind her.</div>
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Sweat beaded on Juan’s forehead. He grabbed a towel and dabbed his face. “This is not so bad” A fever can be a good thing. I needed a little detox. He listened to his family whisper from the porch, and then snort in laughter. He smiled as if he was just given a precious gift. He recalled his own childhood and blessed this illness for bringing an easy afternoon back to him. A breeze floated through the window, touching his face and the outline of his sigh. His sigh held a thousand kisses of life and a thousand more to come. Healing was at hand.</div>
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...to be continued.<br />
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*image: Christian Schloe</div>
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Lucyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07819104047605202311noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3220085865645593378.post-6447181067915490592019-11-02T09:52:00.000-07:002019-11-02T09:53:24.429-07:00MAGIC IN THE AIR<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHr4McB1o4KJAtGt4-h-OEqlKhyphenhyphenvJqTPpgULBsI7GXOwCBKTQcP2KrxEctholpgmwjxgHK_VFsG4ImAhEjttnsosMgsW9kqMPPNxHsHM-86lzXRQQz-1PY784aiJQPJtag_PVD5GM7qW6q/s1600/72703615_10156729761423174_5121192894920654848_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHr4McB1o4KJAtGt4-h-OEqlKhyphenhyphenvJqTPpgULBsI7GXOwCBKTQcP2KrxEctholpgmwjxgHK_VFsG4ImAhEjttnsosMgsW9kqMPPNxHsHM-86lzXRQQz-1PY784aiJQPJtag_PVD5GM7qW6q/s320/72703615_10156729761423174_5121192894920654848_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;">It began the way a lot of things on earth do, in the belly of the earth or body, waiting to show life again and again.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Or perhaps, the true beginning came long long ago. In a dream offered by a sigh in time. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;">It rippled and rained until it appeared in form.</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(29, 33, 41); color: #1d2129;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;">The place was chosen to show its incarnation. A gorge and mountains of wilds heights, birthing the most delicate of beings that hug close to the earth, sprouting from the rocks and streams.</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(29, 33, 41); color: #1d2129;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;">Not many humans live here, most </span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #1d2129; display: inline;">are bowed and fused forward with age, speaking their mind sharply if you try to capture them with any modern tools that keep their image. They prefer to be a moment in time kept quiet.<br />What is magic? Well. We know. It caused us to whisper, to cry, to sweat, oh and to laugh hysterically. It surprised us with its simple truth. It woke us with its swirling rhythm. It brought us home, to us. Daily it asked us to look in the eye with understanding and kindness. Such a look that it almost turns into a solid as its healing ripples through the cells with rightness.<br />We took to the river, to let the river show us it’s ever changing route. You imagined the rocks would cause an accident, but the raft twisted and turned a circle, and out we came to continue and gurgle our way back into the crystal blue. Why did we think it was so hard to move forward?<br />When had we forgotten that we were being held?<br />The sun sparkled and blew colors for us in the air, across the water and through each leaf. It lit our hair and eyes and wrapped our shoulders in warmth. Is she really so far away?<br />We drew the arrow back and aimed at our target. Our third eye already imagining the thunk of arrival. Time folding in half. Action to completion. Manifestation. Alchemy. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgikr8s7GAjjvk_riRisYPE-Z1lUB2KCTtfhfAna2hJua8nBhGYlPebSm5Laue831QSLQxsvPLPOMigRWAMH5hLLvpaC9bJtrn8cCGXgSKqu90XONfopazjFvPZS-wCk44wXCWCLJbiAjOr/s1600/74674991_1443862935781774_1235799456998227968_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgikr8s7GAjjvk_riRisYPE-Z1lUB2KCTtfhfAna2hJua8nBhGYlPebSm5Laue831QSLQxsvPLPOMigRWAMH5hLLvpaC9bJtrn8cCGXgSKqu90XONfopazjFvPZS-wCk44wXCWCLJbiAjOr/s320/74674991_1443862935781774_1235799456998227968_n.jpg" width="180" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br />We sweat, we twisted and endured. We sweat again. Burning energy like the sun. The river inside of us being pumped by our incredible heart. To rest with the sound of your own breath at the end of a practice, to sense a tear rolling across your temple, creating a delicate path into your hair. Oh my we are so strong, so delicate like this gorge we are held by.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzut6pQLpfCkCFzRrpTD17OsAZbJyv7bZXGBQO_qZCV1Er05crhXuajHkudumEjPrpBT3DxWgn4NhTNw7xadYmcWP1TQ-6MLaqRbmXmQIQcx4Az8NW2U0-qvzIKuG6QN_iUw5HK3q3_zjQ/s1600/75588253_10156739632298174_464188949976317952_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="671" data-original-width="1600" height="134" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzut6pQLpfCkCFzRrpTD17OsAZbJyv7bZXGBQO_qZCV1Er05crhXuajHkudumEjPrpBT3DxWgn4NhTNw7xadYmcWP1TQ-6MLaqRbmXmQIQcx4Az8NW2U0-qvzIKuG6QN_iUw5HK3q3_zjQ/s320/75588253_10156739632298174_464188949976317952_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div>
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<br />As the week goes on we merge into one. Dinner becomes a loud affair with gusto. We are hungry! Bring the food, bring the wine! By now everyone in town knows us. The yogis who you sometimes hear howling from the building below. Yet they are quite funny, so lets go talk to them.<br />Bravery was there every day. Love grew, wider and wilder too. What we found or remembered from a sigh in time we cherish and offer back as we all return home. We thank the whispers of the gorge, the leaning of the tree, the evening barks of the dogs, morning songs of birds, the grace of the river and the stories of our ancestors resting in our breath, awakening to care for us each time we ask.<br />Thank you Thank you. Magic in the Air </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjT_eSNqnbivDLMfNwuM5STI0MNBRa9aRfYYohriV39PxbGa5oSNuq6LlwD83GiQWdkuugaUg3pzKwym5dc6H5G39pQHxr3Y1N45_7xlNXjQdmA5CPlYab8iJ5MDiN2mBl716_l9pir-lQ/s1600/72474491_10156729781023174_680410437019238400_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjT_eSNqnbivDLMfNwuM5STI0MNBRa9aRfYYohriV39PxbGa5oSNuq6LlwD83GiQWdkuugaUg3pzKwym5dc6H5G39pQHxr3Y1N45_7xlNXjQdmA5CPlYab8iJ5MDiN2mBl716_l9pir-lQ/s320/72474491_10156729781023174_680410437019238400_o.jpg" width="213" /></a></span></div>
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</span>Lucyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07819104047605202311noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3220085865645593378.post-16542862446991684012018-11-05T00:40:00.005-08:002018-11-06T05:30:55.293-08:00A MORNING POEM FOR YOU<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0wxhjaFAtmnXDziCvJsMBhx8iC8RbnXeAhI7NiDqlkHY4LK1avMecg3cc3k0Kg4jIDFiJ6h2SutzsBWGMz4NdhhBRuy29vZ6AL8bcfSoPTI0P9D9QALjJDWs_ScWgq64BebiRew3vwOSv/s1600/strength.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0wxhjaFAtmnXDziCvJsMBhx8iC8RbnXeAhI7NiDqlkHY4LK1avMecg3cc3k0Kg4jIDFiJ6h2SutzsBWGMz4NdhhBRuy29vZ6AL8bcfSoPTI0P9D9QALjJDWs_ScWgq64BebiRew3vwOSv/s320/strength.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">A morning poem for you. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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Senses. </div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Touch lovingly,</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></div>
<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">hold and cherish</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Be rocked</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">and squeezed by love.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Welcome a warm palm</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">wrapped around your hand.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Truly listen</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">only to understand</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">the voice of the heart</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">To know the lilt</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">of love.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Taste to know</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">the colors</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">of nourishment</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Kiss to love</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">the flavor</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">of vulnerability</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">See movement.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Shadow by light.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Become aware</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">of peripheral vision</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">the view around the corner</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">or stand close</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">to the eyes you love.</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Inhale the aromas</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">of mood</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">and time.</span></div>
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</div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Or notice the</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">old weathered hands</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">of the family grands,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Who have become</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">roots in your stories.</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">By you.</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Pull in today's air</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">tree bark or sea,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">new leaf</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">or the glory</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">of it's last days.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">So many spices</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">romancing with time.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Sense there is more.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Always more.</span></div>
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<br />Lucyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07819104047605202311noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3220085865645593378.post-71855927108498366832018-04-28T08:09:00.000-07:002018-11-06T05:31:16.797-08:00THE PURITY OF BEING <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoE6-ou3tsWdvlAf6323IdxD0s37hBgyimlQ5vGiUB3CW-IA2qJRpB-M2sgXszcvlDM-dbtFF70qMT4e6nPjxHdUCq1ee2KD8H2kgiysuuRWl3ixzSAlc9kBJXzTGcDOjGomDUCc7rC-Kl/s1600/a307ba0281e75f7b3bc42c4aaac7f3b6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="588" data-original-width="736" height="508" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoE6-ou3tsWdvlAf6323IdxD0s37hBgyimlQ5vGiUB3CW-IA2qJRpB-M2sgXszcvlDM-dbtFF70qMT4e6nPjxHdUCq1ee2KD8H2kgiysuuRWl3ixzSAlc9kBJXzTGcDOjGomDUCc7rC-Kl/s640/a307ba0281e75f7b3bc42c4aaac7f3b6.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; -webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: "helvetica neue";"><span style="font-size: large;">I was so struck with this artwork by Christian </span></span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: large;">Schloe. It felt so familiar that I wanted to write to you. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">One of my favorite meditations I sometimes call ‘third eye meditation’, which for me means to still my mind so that my soul can bring forward sensations, images and insights that are many times beyond my knowledge or present thought state. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">Think of your energy when you sit down in a cinema and the room goes dark. You move into a state that is quiet and ready to receive. It’s time for you to do nothing but observe. It’s something like that. In meditation what is experienced is not on a screen but everywhere, including inside of you.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">My joy in engaging with life outside of physical perception came with practice. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">I remember the first time I tried, I sat very still, consciously aware of straightening my spine and sitting with legs folded, yet I shifted now and then to ease my back or knees. As uncomfortable as I sometimes felt, I had no doubt this was what I wanted to do and I sat day after day. What did I feel? See? Very little, mainly lots of blackness. Yet what I also felt was love. I didn’t know if it came only from me, or if it was in the air. Wherever and whomever it was it calmed me and wrapped me in a way that followed me through my day. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">It occurred to me one day that my own soul, or any spiritual energy for that matter would not be concerned if I had the perfect sitting posture. This was not a school about human conditioning or rules, this was about things beyond form. </span></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue";"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">From that time on I made myself comfortable. Sometimes I sat in the center of my yoga mat, other times I curled on the couch with pillows surrounding me in a </span>cocoon,<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"> on a beautiful day I chose early evenings on my balcony. If I felt like it, I walked to the top of a hill to close my eyes and breathe. It trusted what felt right. Many early mornings I rested comfortably in bed, and as I woke out of sleep I went right into energetic listening. Energy is very open to offering wisdoms. How I knew this I didn’t know. Yet I was certain. It was me who was learning how to hear, and I was learning that sometimes information just appeared in my mind. </span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue";"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">The first image I saw came while I sat on a wooden chair with my eyes closed, suddenly a pink rose appeared, floating in the midst of nothing. It was folded tight and began to open in front of me. Yet what absorbed me was that although I was still me, I was also those petals, so soft and delicate I was almost a liquid. The flower filled me somehow, and as if some </span>lightbulb<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"> turned on I realized how I loved I am. I cried. </span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">That small vision probably lasted thirty seconds of my meditation, yet had an infinite effect. That is how love is. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">Through the years I have become better at listening to the universe and soul energy. Sometimes I feel my own soul embracing me, or watching me through time, other moments I feel the souls of everyone I have ever loved, those in human form and those who have passed on, I may even feel a hand on my shoulder or a hand in my hand. I feel their absolute goodness behind every error, I know their soul. Often I feel the life of the stars themselves or a bird in the air. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">We can all feel energy. And it’s so simple. It is not about sending out anything, or doing anything. It’s similar to energy of a baby, from that pure place where life is only about taking it in, where judgement and conditioning do not exist and you are openly sensing everything. To embody presence and faith. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">Choose some music if you like, about 5-20 minutes long. Something soothing. If you are inside a room light a candle to soften and center you. </span></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue";"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">Now choose a comfortable place for yourself and close your eyes. Feel your own aura surrounding you, maybe it will feel like a bright cloud that changes </span>shape<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"> now and then. Maybe you cannot feel it at first, thats totally fine too. ( Its not what life has been teaching you so far so it may be perfect to not know) Tell your aura only pick up and hold onto positive energy and let the rest bounce off and become light. Your energy hears you. </span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">( let your imagination help you at first) </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">Simply intend the words in your minds eye, I am here to listen to my soul and guides. Feel the space between your eye brows and imagine the energy in front of it softening. This is like your little movie screen opening for the film to begin. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">Learn to let go of expectations. Each of us are unique and sensations vary. Just be and let that be everything. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">When the song finishes begin to sense your aura once again, a protective and loving force just for you. Also sense your third eye and imagine a soft hand ( maybe the hand of a grandparent or someone you loved) covering it for a moment, almost like it is offering healing to let it relax again. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">Become aware of your breath moving in your body, slowly rising and falling. After some moments, gently open your eyes. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">Be. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">Much love, </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">Lucy</span></span></div>
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Lucyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07819104047605202311noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3220085865645593378.post-59634081001095970232018-01-15T15:39:00.001-08:002018-01-15T15:41:17.084-08:00WATER<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlI5uplQ9eadjdmV3Gkjty4Q4_x4yHKgE7iptLv-oAav3jCNOE4TPBQc6Fyv3z8aJ5yP706jPGYU8FwPkhR_EnUuSlNpT8ICvBzOVW_LhSeXOrdLH7U4ZCkhsnoLekJHR8G46UzBWaV4kV/s1600/DSC00786.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlI5uplQ9eadjdmV3Gkjty4Q4_x4yHKgE7iptLv-oAav3jCNOE4TPBQc6Fyv3z8aJ5yP706jPGYU8FwPkhR_EnUuSlNpT8ICvBzOVW_LhSeXOrdLH7U4ZCkhsnoLekJHR8G46UzBWaV4kV/s400/DSC00786.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The water fell from the sky</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">through time</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">and space</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">to nourish the earth</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">and be absorbed</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">and changed</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Sometimes</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">it floated as a white dust</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">to be melted</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">into liquid as it touched</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">a solid</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">As a solid</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">it held a coldness</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">that brought</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">soothing relief</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">healing</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">freshness</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">or bitter sharpness,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">a whitening freeze</span></div>
<br />
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Some chose to enter</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">water, to float and be</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">surrounded in its game</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">with gravity</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">or to swim in its</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">mystery</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">a depth to be explored</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">or feared</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">or inspired by</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">its offerings of</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">liquid space</span></div>
<br />
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Water flowed through</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">time, slowly changing</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">the shape of the planet</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">It turned the world</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">into colors</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">and offered growth</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">a molding of shapes</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">in slow motion</span></div>
<br />
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">In time, It rose again</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">into the atmosphere</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">invisible to be seen</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">by the eye</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">yet felt by a cheek</span></div>
<br />
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Returning again and again</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">as a drop of magic</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">falling to the earth</span></div>
<br />
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">You too, my dears</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Are water.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px; text-align: center;">
Lucy</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
Lucyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07819104047605202311noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3220085865645593378.post-10491488862839463952017-10-10T22:46:00.000-07:002017-10-10T22:55:43.743-07:00I AM HERE<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;">I am like a child sometimes. A child who is jumping up and down as she watches you on your birthday as you open a present. She is jumping because she knows what's inside and knows you will love it. </span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; min-height: 22px;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;">I am like a child sometimes. A child who is reading Harry Potter for the second time and is glowing because I know he is going to be ok. </span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; min-height: 22px;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;">I am like a child sometimes. Because I won’t understand all your words, they will blur together in my head but your voice will ring true to me and I will know just how you feel. The color changes of your skin as you feel will entrance me and your silence speaks so loud. </span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; min-height: 22px;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;">I am like a child sometimes, I cry at sadness and anger. I understand your tender heart. Yet I am so resilient and know you are too, so I will keep whispering to you...offering you eyes to see wider into truth. </span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; min-height: 22px;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;">If you like, on a hard day, I will be your grandma and extend my maternal fingers out to fix your hair and soothe your sore heart. </span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; min-height: 22px;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;">Sometimes just a soft hand on your belly will do, just to rest and recognize your inhale and exhale. So light it reminds you of love.</span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; min-height: 22px;">
<br />
<span style="font-kerning: none;"></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXCrdo5s7gIbdp569ExOHyQHVXZNuSxrJno1yW5a24DvFPGrv6r99Gih-kxdGG5DsJ9iAfnysg_L_svCbnc-Wke3x9QpehJZB-RqrUWZhddxW1bB9d2MjJkKMX9ay-sVz0suVRfNfxuuNN/s1600/15741131_1116007748521206_1032115223894752235_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="360" data-original-width="333" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXCrdo5s7gIbdp569ExOHyQHVXZNuSxrJno1yW5a24DvFPGrv6r99Gih-kxdGG5DsJ9iAfnysg_L_svCbnc-Wke3x9QpehJZB-RqrUWZhddxW1bB9d2MjJkKMX9ay-sVz0suVRfNfxuuNN/s320/15741131_1116007748521206_1032115223894752235_n.jpg" width="296" /></a></div>
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<br />
<span style="font-kerning: none;"></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></div>
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<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;">I love. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></div>
Lucyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07819104047605202311noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3220085865645593378.post-39864355064802096572017-07-28T05:20:00.001-07:002017-07-28T05:21:37.933-07:00CLEANSING HADES<div style="color: #1d2129; font-family: 'San Francisco', -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, '.SFNSText-Regular', sans-serif; letter-spacing: -0.23999999463558197px; margin-bottom: 6px;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Every July and August the ancient island filled with a myriad of tourist in search of glamour and abandonment. (It wondered if they knew how she toned down her beauty at this time of year). Her land turned brown and dry and the sky dimmed its blueness in response. Yet the bright light was ever present, always exposing each crevice and wild curve. Everything somehow looked like a fantasy in Mykonos. A trick from the joker above, though many humans thought it was their doing. </span></div>
<div style="color: #1d2129; font-family: 'San Francisco', -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, '.SFNSText-Regular', sans-serif; letter-spacing: -0.23999999463558197px; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">The rock groaned with the added weight, yet held it all with God like strength. The rumble of planes riding across its back. The pounding of music reverberating its cement covered land. Tourists moving along its streets like army ants sensing sweets nearby. Cars screeching, horns beeping in order pass each other in an effort to be first, there always seemed to be a mad rush. </span></span></div>
<div class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #1d2129; display: inline; font-family: 'San Francisco', -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, '.SFNSText-Regular', sans-serif; letter-spacing: -0.23999999463558197px;">
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin-bottom: 6px;">
<span style="font-size: large;">This is what saddened the island, that odd density that filled the air. A thick energy that felt like Hades was nearby.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span>
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Yet the island was clever. Every July and August, the island asked the wind to free her of this heaviness, to clean the air and its people.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">And the wind came, as friends do.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">To wildly tickle the small trees and fields and make the aegean roar with laughter.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">On some days the energy on the island was so thick the wind rushed in with force. A wild whipping that shook the shutters and caused the birds to swerve and curse. Yet all knew it was for the best. </span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
The island grinned, and dreamt of September.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk1eYP3sYWQgauS6N0d6ns9ZBs-LjHvIPlwPhyaKJ4fyOY4VAwKOi9MVr8Nc2MMpYjTqC5JOp9J1X9s9lzyVPT8n9_oVuDctcgzN6OFeazaWG6s9W5yOOA3GDemOv22nH4QK28H3Ej_R3j/s1600/DSCF4397.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1071" data-original-width="1171" height="292" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk1eYP3sYWQgauS6N0d6ns9ZBs-LjHvIPlwPhyaKJ4fyOY4VAwKOi9MVr8Nc2MMpYjTqC5JOp9J1X9s9lzyVPT8n9_oVuDctcgzN6OFeazaWG6s9W5yOOA3GDemOv22nH4QK28H3Ej_R3j/s320/DSCF4397.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Lucyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07819104047605202311noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3220085865645593378.post-20814291472651436002017-07-27T07:30:00.000-07:002017-08-03T08:33:06.735-07:00RESEMBLING LIGHT<div style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">Katerina woke, yet kept her eyes closed. She needed to pee. Her sigh held </span>resignation.<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"> She never made it through the night now without needing to pee. Her eyes opened and she looked towards her front door. She must have fallen asleep in her chair while knitting again. Well, at least it would be easy to get up. Her knees were not what they used to be, years of walking over cobblestones and mountains had once made her muscles firm, now the bumpy corners of her bones were stiff, swollen and gravely. She thought how she resembled this dry island more with each passing day and smiled at the idea.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; line-height: normal; min-height: 12px;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The small, dark room still smelled of the herb tea she sipped earlier. An infusion of warm comfort taught to her by her Yaya in this very same house. She inhaled the magic deeply as she leaned forward and with chubby brown fingers braced on the chair’s arms, pushed herself to standing and moved slowly to the door.</span></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; line-height: normal; min-height: 12px;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">She leaned against the front door and felt the vibration of music, a rhythm that seemed to intensify with each beat, drunken laughter and squeals accompanied the sounds. She lifted the metal latch and opened her door a crack. </span></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">In just that small line of open space her house became a part of the disco just down her little lane, colored spinning lights floated into her living room and upon her chair, her knitting needles twinkled. She remembered opening this door as a child, when the moon was bright and the island was silent. In her girlhood she could hear the moon whisper. </span></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; line-height: normal; min-height: 12px;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">There was no choice, she would have to step out in her nightgown. Grabbing her shawl tightly in front of her, Katerina stepped out into her narrow lane, quickly maneuvering herself past the night’s partiers. Imagining herself invisible as she opened the next blue door to relieve herself. </span></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">There was a time when this little room down the lane seemed so modern. </span></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; line-height: normal; min-height: 12px;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: normal;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGzXcuIAPqOfmFuEzLFGzWolijuv667c3t5kGl_cRPV-iHl6qNmcunhC2ASjAsi8eRQvc6JwDw82E6SIUvwB1B-si27ajopd0bDBP3wwS7hyphenhyphenVstdaTAu_dyd5o8z8WPZ5RGNgxTH2HQBut/s1600/20641658_10155037839823772_1872583337_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1239" data-original-width="853" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGzXcuIAPqOfmFuEzLFGzWolijuv667c3t5kGl_cRPV-iHl6qNmcunhC2ASjAsi8eRQvc6JwDw82E6SIUvwB1B-si27ajopd0bDBP3wwS7hyphenhyphenVstdaTAu_dyd5o8z8WPZ5RGNgxTH2HQBut/s400/20641658_10155037839823772_1872583337_o.jpg" width="275" /></a><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">The stones felt the slow </span>rhythm<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"> of Katerina’s feet. It had known these feet for many, many years now. Recorded the print of her since the day she was born. It cherished how she once flew through the ally ways and down to the sea on a summers day, her feet slapping hard against warm rocks with a rush of aliveness and roars of laughter. How many nights as a teen had she spent looking up at the sky? Ah, her secret night kisses and embraces. Her grieving goodbyes to loved ones yet open door and arms to strangers. She owned kindness and the island felt humbled to hold her. Yet tonight she felt almost invisible. The earth and rock comforted itself. Katerina’s essence was forever recorded in the stones and air. Knowing her, she would always be whispering humorous thoughts into the human minds as they lost themselves in the maze of cobbled streets.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; line-height: normal; min-height: 12px;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Katerina looked quite lovely tonight with her silver hair falling, thought the moon. She was beginning to resemble light. How wonderful. She must be on her way soon. How she would laugh to see Mykonos from here.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></div>
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Lucyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07819104047605202311noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3220085865645593378.post-9421454746752784732017-07-11T09:55:00.001-07:002017-07-28T05:18:43.180-07:00HUGE<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: large;">Operations and chemo had left him weak and had not had the results intended. He was pissed.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: large;">As I entered the room to meet him, he sized me up. He took in my messy blond hair half tied in a knot, my colorful dress and my flip flops. Not very business like, but very me. He was polite enough not to roll his eyes yet his expression held great irritation at the thought of sitting through a “breath work” session. I could hear the inner dialogue. “What the hell is breath work anyway? What was the point of all this?” I didn't blame him one bit. I could not deny it, this sucked. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: large;">Call it breath work or rebirth breath work. I have heard all the jokes. “Oh! Will I be RE born? Haha. Will I?” “You want me to breathe for an hour? Oh I don't think I want to do that.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: large;">It’s part of how we live these days, that makes simply breathing, or openly talking about ourselves feel incredibly awkward. Why would you want to review the ups and downs of your life? Yet that is exactly what I was about to ask this man to do. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: large;">To open his heart to a stranger. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: large;">I pulled up a chair and he sat on the bed, feet on the floor facing me. Legs crossed, arms crossed and eyes stern in an energy lock down. Slow, concentrated exhales streamed from his nostrils in an attempt to hold his “fed up” in check. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: large;">I began simply by telling him about me and my life. The ups and downs that led me to what I do and how I think. I talked clearly with facts only. This was not a man who wanted to hear about intuitive thinking. I understood. Then I asked about his illness, followed by his job. He was a retired math professor, the keeper of rules, the one you looked to for vindication of your worth. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: large;">I listened to him talk, I heard the monotone stories and the ones that made him offer bored and tired sighs, others that pulled inhales deeper into his being. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: large;">I attempted to mention his breath, and how it was effected by his stories. He shrugged, considering it a possibility.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: large;">We went to his childhood, to times of strictness and the learning of life’s book of ‘correctness’ according to man. Life in a New England town. There was an almost invisible change to his eyelids as he mentioned his father, who was once a musician. Admiration and an echo of a child crept into the base of his throat and the tone of his voice owned curiosity and freedom. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: large;">What an honor it is to listen to life stories, to listen to a heart opening, cracking, wrenching, blooming, inspiring… To offer truth and have it returned, even when it doesn't feel pleasant. It holds a sense of energy clearing and true validity beyond good or bad. It’s soul centering.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: large;">He awkwardly lied down, shy in his resting pose. Yet brave and polite enough to give it a chance. We added some pillows to prop him up, to try to comfort the constant growing pain in his belly. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: large;">“What will we do now?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: large;">We breathe, inhale followed by an exhale. Simple. Just loose that pause between the two. Create a circle. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: large;">Resistance slowed us, he said. “ This doesn't feel good. I feel odd” </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: large;">It can feel that way at first. Focusing on the self, breathing life fully can make you dizzy and scared. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: large;">I thought of an image to help him relax. I asked him to picture his father’s hands, his fingers as he played trumpet. His inhale caught and his cheeks brightened with a rush of feeling. The rhythm of breath became a circle, joining the universe in its spinning. A current all its own as it connected all life. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: large;">I felt myself drifting into the distance of his awareness, as he felt his father. As he felt everything.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: large;">After a time he said</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: large;">“Oh!” </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: large;">What is it? How do you feel? </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: large;">“I feel, oh. I feel tingly and well, happy. There is no pain at all. I feel no pain just… I am huge. My um energy? It’s huge! Oh wow” More tears.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: large;">“Can I stay here a while?” </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: large;">Oh Yes. Lets. I put my hand to rest on his shoulder and we hung out in peace. </span></div>
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Lucyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07819104047605202311noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3220085865645593378.post-53870564062788538572017-06-13T00:51:00.001-07:002017-06-13T00:51:19.958-07:00LEAVING RESISTANCE<div style="color: #1d2129; font-family: 'San Francisco', -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, '.SFNSText-Regular', sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.23999999463558197px; margin-bottom: 6px;">
Resistance definition according to the Oxford online dictionary: </div>
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"The refusal to accept or comply with something; the attempt to prevent something by action or argument."</div>
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Consider resistance as it relates to an emotional conversation. Consider resistance as it relates to feeling your own emotions. </div>
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You are here in this magical life and you may not travel the world or fly into space. Yet you are blessed to journey through every emotion. Each emotion holds an essence and a lesson that offers you the possibility of being a better person. Each emotion is a link to honoring of your truer self.</div>
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To tell yourself or another you are not sad when you are shuts a door, it hurts.<br />To tell another or yourself you are not angry pulls a curtain on your needs or thoughts and tells another they are not worthy of truth or trust.</div>
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To tell another everything is perfect when you are lost keeps you in loneliness.<br />To listen to another share their worry is the greatest honor there is. A flight to the moon in its wonder.</div>
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When sharing those emotions that you feel may be unpleasant, if you share them softly and from the heart you are offering the raw you, the vulnerable you, the bravest and most gloriously growing you. </div>
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Each emotion holds the trueness of life, so another human can learn to connect to you through empathy.<br />Each emotion holds healing, as it leaves it turns into a space for insight to enter.</div>
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Emotions are not a glue, they do not stick to you. Unless you try to close them in.<br />And yet, maybe emotions do hold glue when we share them with each other, we become united…</div>
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Emotions are like music. Rock, symphony and the softest flute and cymbal.<br />Music is so close to emotion that a song can echo through your soul and find an emotion to match the melody.<br />Being able to say “I feel” is one of your greatest gifts. Coming back to the purity is one of the finest pieces of music in existance. It honors your rightness as well as others. It comes from a place deeper than correctness according to<br />life or religion or education. It moves life towards the wisdom of your soul.<br /></div>
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Lucyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07819104047605202311noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3220085865645593378.post-64263829566174074602017-06-13T00:17:00.000-07:002017-07-28T05:18:56.826-07:00THOUGHTS FROM ABOVE<div>
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I found this writing of mine, and thought it was worth sharing. This was written less than a month after my Mom passed. I am sure she loves this. </div>
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I am in the air. Flying from Madrid, Spain to San Jose, Costa Rica. Hello.<br />
Its beautiful up here. I keep looking out the window, watching the cotton clouds and the little windows they create that let me peak at the earth below.<br />
I love being in the air, it feels like I am in the “in between”. This space where I can think for hours, review and ponder.<br />
I have been pondering a lot lately and it fee<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit;">ls good. It feels like strong thoughts that have directions and insights. They holds roots in bigger definitions of what I want and how I can love responsibly.<br /><br />In this luxury of time to I decided to write to all of you .<br />Long flights are likely to have some turbulence. Its a lot like life. Hours can pass and the flight is beautifully smooth. You look out the window from your moving space in the sky and life feels so tranquil. The human face softens in a mirror of peace. Then turbulence hits and your whole being stiffens, the heart rate quickens followed by clammy hands. Even if you are one of those that does not react physically, your awareness of your lack of control suddenly is alert, your breathing is more conscious and you enter the now. You may even begin to think of everyone you love. (Of course you may also think of the pilot).</span><br />
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<br />In life we also have these smooth times. These days upon days where grace runs through your veins and out of your eyes. Where you can share your wisdom and wit easily with the world and it all rings true. (You know from the responses you get)<br /><br />Think about this past year. How has it been for you?<br /><br />On a recent retreat I asked the group if they felt like they were the hero in their life story at the present time.<br />Hero moments arrive in a variety of ways. One common way are times that resembles turbulence on a flight. In life they are the unsure moments, the mucky or sucky moments, loss of control moments, loss of love moments, loss of the life of a loved one, a job, integrity or confidence...you get my drift.<br />These are the moments when you suddenly are stuck in the now, time moves differently here. Some may say energy shrinks yet I think it expands. Life becomes a challenging workout. If I were to take a pose for you I would stand with arms open wide in question waiting for an answer. When you are here, you are my hero.<br /><br />Just like when you are in turbulence on a plane, hero moments require faith.<br /><br />Muck and Grace. Life is magical like that. All is going super smooth and then suddenly you are back in the spin cycle being cleaned again. Being tested by experiences that help you define who you are and what you want to be and do in this life.These are the moments when you either listen to fear and doubt, or you hold on and choose faith and responsibility. You may stumble, complain, mourn and cry now and then, its part of the journey, yet ask for support as much as you can. Most important, even if you can't say it out loud, let faith sing in your soul. Please.<br /><br />To those of you on a smooth part of the journey. Your golden moments are like that glorious sun out my window, creating both light and shadow. You are holding the essence of grace if you choose, share in any way you can. How can you? ( These were some of my questions to myself this year also).<br /><br />To those of you in the turbulence. Courage and belief are built here. Stories to be told are written here. What you learn here is part of your hero act. What you do with it is your gift.<br /><br />I am still learning all this as I have a grace moment up here in the sky.<br /><br />With love from above,<br />Lucy</span></div>
Lucyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07819104047605202311noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3220085865645593378.post-74436689263146119532016-12-16T02:54:00.000-08:002017-03-19T06:02:13.178-07:00MEMORIES GIFTS<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; line-height: normal;">
<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Is there is a reason for things? Is there a higher energy? Is there a God? Are each of us part of God? Does life really hold magic?</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">If so, what might memories be for? </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Sure they help you know how to do every thing you do, without memory we might keep burning our fingers every time we tried to light a match. Ouch, what?! Fire? Ummm, Ouch! What? Fire?! A surprise every time. Walking would be impossible as the body would not recall how to stand. Movement forward would not exist. We would continuously fall, perplexed at our tumble. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Yet memories also effect how you react and act on an every day basis. They can make you trip, loose sleep, snap at someone, calm you or know insight and love.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">In a way, memories let us own something deeper if you like, they let us have a fuel with which to live and be by. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">They are a river where time does not exist flowing through you. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Say my life were a movie, the vision I hold of my memories could create scenes of either inspiration or doom. Its really up to me, to understand this moving river I hold. (Of course I could create a damn now and then, a pause that stops the movement of memory)</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7BhKq9lLX9mrNtkSD8a786lFODNRrci7NL_r0XzTmUD4dRsFGKHR0U-NNxgJzHhwiXU1OGMMtgsL1GsFcWoqSfjWdLrLRZcKHhmMIpXIzS6ULt_1CsN70m85-dsy1ux_h7TGcqMffa01P/s1600/11825662_10153149463693174_2433921420669919616_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7BhKq9lLX9mrNtkSD8a786lFODNRrci7NL_r0XzTmUD4dRsFGKHR0U-NNxgJzHhwiXU1OGMMtgsL1GsFcWoqSfjWdLrLRZcKHhmMIpXIzS6ULt_1CsN70m85-dsy1ux_h7TGcqMffa01P/s320/11825662_10153149463693174_2433921420669919616_n.jpg" width="243" /></a><span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">With as much information as we keep, we have something computers do not have: interpretation and emotion. It’s an alchemy we have, knowing feelings can grow and change as we hold that same story up for view whenever we want.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">We are free. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Sit with a pen and paper and write one negative memory you have told many times. A story of a time that was difficult. You know the story, the one that makes people look at you and ooooohhhh.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Look at your story. Breathe. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">So lets say you are the director of the most inspirational movie. A Steven Spielberg epic of a never ending universe. Why would a director create that scene of difficulty for the hero? How much stronger would the hero be if he is aware the lessons are for his good?</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">How can the story be used for future happiness?</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Now write a story, a conversation you had with a person you dearly miss. Maybe that person has passed away or maybe they are just no longer in your life. It’s so humbling and empowering to miss someone isn't it? YOU KNOW LOVE.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Close your eyes and enter memories. Sense that person.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Breathe. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Its interesting how when a person passes we see how they were like Gods, these creators dressed in a human life, we understand the softness and strengths they held in magnitude. We see everything in a brighter light. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Now here is what I truly love. As I hold a memory, it feels real. The intonation of a voice is still present, as are the sensations experienced at different ages of life. I hold every story . Each being's presence was/is immensely vast. It has remained in me, so an essence is still very much alive. All comfort and love still exist, I only have to open my heart to it. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">To me, that is magic. Humans can revisit time, they can revisit souls or stories and still learn and love. </span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQBKK3YZbOjSZG2FbDSJDSomBbeUSghmHMwt9_byRbywTN2xZDGpTE-jerJzubxsouog21Xcf9hP6VtFg7hdRCcBhSki6GTxOeRdUu0zrsUorF5GW5DpahkwAMD7dV0yLpMHBR_QOGVyCi/s1600/DSC00856.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQBKK3YZbOjSZG2FbDSJDSomBbeUSghmHMwt9_byRbywTN2xZDGpTE-jerJzubxsouog21Xcf9hP6VtFg7hdRCcBhSki6GTxOeRdUu0zrsUorF5GW5DpahkwAMD7dV0yLpMHBR_QOGVyCi/s320/DSC00856.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">It is all still happening now. </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQBKK3YZbOjSZG2FbDSJDSomBbeUSghmHMwt9_byRbywTN2xZDGpTE-jerJzubxsouog21Xcf9hP6VtFg7hdRCcBhSki6GTxOeRdUu0zrsUorF5GW5DpahkwAMD7dV0yLpMHBR_QOGVyCi/s1600/DSC00856.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></a><span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">You hold these incredible scrolls of wisdom and fairy tales. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">They have been given to you through time. For what reason? </span></span><br />
<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Only you can tell that story.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">You hold them now. </span></span></div>
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Lucyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07819104047605202311noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3220085865645593378.post-38246237626581362762016-11-26T22:59:00.003-08:002016-11-26T23:14:58.304-08:00LIGHTING CHANGE<div style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 16px; line-height: normal;">
<b>Sometimes we think we have it all under control and the universe seems to let us know that change IS. We are all changing, loving, leaving, arriving, dreaming, inspiring… We ALL are. </b></div>
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<b>This year especially I am inclined to keep that very present in my thoughts. To whisper in the softest way I can so that it simmers and leaves a dusting of inspiration to remember the peace and power of observance during action.</b></div>
<div style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 16px; line-height: normal; min-height: 19px;">
<b></b><br /></div>
<div style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 16px; line-height: normal;">
<b>Imagine yourself at the top of a snowy hill. There you are bundled up in a scarf and hat, gloves covering your hands. You are sitting on a sled and admiring the hill’s incredibly steep slopes. How gorgeous to be out on this sparkling day! You’ll just hang here a while and enjoy the freshness. You let your hand reach out and pat the snow and feel, through your glove, a sense of the chill held in the white crystals. How toasty warm these new gloves are!</b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhedwDzr6U2uYPMYVAqIVTsW8Cg50eHnsKOFg-Jqkew-FF6cK3w3pStLAiuZLLbxZFX1Drf4fbTfd-jkFhWHVcOUWKNXSjFKXAorecWy2MmqKcAMFuwf410vEVF5wQh5BszBmHit1JINMTy/s1600/Windsor+VT+Snow+Squall+2002%252C+Come+Out+and+Play.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="467" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhedwDzr6U2uYPMYVAqIVTsW8Cg50eHnsKOFg-Jqkew-FF6cK3w3pStLAiuZLLbxZFX1Drf4fbTfd-jkFhWHVcOUWKNXSjFKXAorecWy2MmqKcAMFuwf410vEVF5wQh5BszBmHit1JINMTy/s640/Windsor+VT+Snow+Squall+2002%252C+Come+Out+and+Play.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<b></b><br /></div>
<div style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 16px; line-height: normal;">
<b>Suddenly someone comes from behind and pushes your sled. Your neck jerks back in reaction and your hands attempt to squeeze tight as the sled begins to speed downward. The thick gloves have become a burden as your fingers can’t seem to hold a firm grip. Hmmm. Funny how such a simple protection can become a nuisance in a mili-second. </b></div>
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<b></b><br /></div>
<div style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 16px; line-height: normal;">
<b>Your speed increases and you find your mind spitting out sentences. “Who the hell pushed my sled?” “ I wasn't ready!!!” “Shit it’s cold” “Wow look at that tree!” Shit look how fast I am moving!” Crap how will I stop?” “ How can I be sweating and freezing all at once?” “ I never get to do it the way I want.” “Why?!” “Oh my god I must look ridiculous.” </b></div>
<div style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 16px; line-height: normal; min-height: 19px;">
<b></b><br /></div>
<div style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 16px; line-height: normal;">
<b>In just under four minutes you are at the bottom of the hill panting. You tumbled your way to a stop that left you sitting beside your sled. You look around, you look up. You sigh. It’s that feeling that you missed something. It suddenly occurs to you, that most of the anxiety that just occurred happened through your own thoughts. That ride could have felt very different.</b></div>
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<b></b><br /></div>
<div style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 16px; line-height: normal;">
<b>This has been a year of growth for me that let me practice what I preach. To hold space for myself as the world around me changed. I’ll tell you all about it when I can look in your eyes, it’s that kind of a story. :) </b></div>
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<b></b><br /></div>
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<div style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 16px; line-height: normal;">
<b>Sometimes that’s how life is. It pushes you in a new direction and you don't see it coming. It shakes you awake and asks you to keep BEING. Finding peace and an inward grace during life’s surprises are the lessons we all will encounter. Sometimes what we arrive at is more than peace, it blooms into a new creative force from deep in your soul that reminds you of everything that is truly important.</b></div>
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<b></b><br /></div>
<div style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 16px; line-height: normal;">
<b>Every event or sudden turn in life actually holds that LIVE magic. It’s that space where you expand awareness. </b></div>
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<b><br /></b></div>
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Lucyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07819104047605202311noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3220085865645593378.post-1500677112842259732016-10-22T12:44:00.000-07:002018-03-26T23:48:44.817-07:00BEGINNINGS<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The soul heard a rhythm, a swishing that held an echo of a universal
sound. It sensed it was inside another
soul. Delicate and new, it twitched and
stretched in its form and felt the body it was in adjust itself to her
movements. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">In darkness and warmth time passed<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Among all the sounds that became familiar, one constant
voice held the deepest feeling of presence. A familiarity more true than time. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She understood her laughter and felt soft joy,
she heard her cry and felt an ache, when anxiety awakened, the soul felt its
own pulse pick up speed. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometimes the
mother would hum and the soul would feel her own heartbeat slow as she drifted
off in a deep rest. The soul listened daily through sleep and wake, for an
eternity of its own, until one day the comfortable space she had become so familiar
with had become too small. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv5M8UmT4GOW-WIbaDS04OhruVynPF3VDUAkwv6NZca0njgzhUK_Z0as27WXkFDscuhcrebyynrfPr_UoJn9wnJKGWdoU553tSP5a75iy-jaMyyrxTHP7rk0ON37CNTXJvy1jyBg7mE47G/s1600/1d95493b9c12794329890b6450b771ea.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="325" data-original-width="235" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv5M8UmT4GOW-WIbaDS04OhruVynPF3VDUAkwv6NZca0njgzhUK_Z0as27WXkFDscuhcrebyynrfPr_UoJn9wnJKGWdoU553tSP5a75iy-jaMyyrxTHP7rk0ON37CNTXJvy1jyBg7mE47G/s320/1d95493b9c12794329890b6450b771ea.jpg" width="231" /></a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Pressure upon pressure caused her little body to shrink,
squeezing bone to bone and soft flesh towards some sort of finish.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sounds arrived of her mother’s pain and fear
and guilt coursed through them both. Rapid heartbeats ever sensing each other.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Soon, another death or life was near, this little new being
knew not which.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The moving constriction
came to an end and she felt a strange coolness and space arrive. Moments later
the icy feeling hit her fully and she saw bright lights and beings in a blur. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sounds became so loud! <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In a gasp she pulled in air, her insides
feeling like fire and ice, a surprise as its power fueled her for the first
time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A scratchy sound escaped her
throat and she heard her own wild but somehow tiny voice. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The sound startled her,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>as did all sounds but
one. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">“Hello beautiful Fay”, she heard her mother whisper.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">What was said she had no idea. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Yet she knew that tone. Softness.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Her body was pressed against the outside of the woman she
was just inside.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">It was not the same, but she was home. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
Lucyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07819104047605202311noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3220085865645593378.post-37992498874618727972016-09-25T13:17:00.001-07:002016-09-25T13:22:12.515-07:00A HISTORY BOX OF JEWELS<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 6px;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBzdO1jWwdJz0WbeXm3Fs6SjrPLdp2sUH38dM2RzNdNGZJCMUkeVMLt_eOy4G1Xg_5s7oesEc24RVvfhzwFeInxFtcSzPFYkIvsMsoulgpI8uGQrOn2mkbttlEjiWa7vf8b8tO8RJiCww/s1600/14444602_10154008367383174_2427790751500627436_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBzdO1jWwdJz0WbeXm3Fs6SjrPLdp2sUH38dM2RzNdNGZJCMUkeVMLt_eOy4G1Xg_5s7oesEc24RVvfhzwFeInxFtcSzPFYkIvsMsoulgpI8uGQrOn2mkbttlEjiWa7vf8b8tO8RJiCww/s640/14444602_10154008367383174_2427790751500627436_o.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /><br />I am trying to keep pace with Liz as she strides in the sand.<br />It takes a moment to realize I would prefer to crouch down and photograph her.<br /><br />My friend. She is sometimes in front of me, other times beside me, I adore her.<br /><br />As a child I kept my position behind her, she was my babysitter and teacher of girlhood into young womanhood. A force that made life look creative and ever funny. A laugh followed almost any story or event. I was less frightened of growing beside her.<br /><br />I am trying to remember when we parted ways, it was many years ago before I knew how it felt to be grown. Before life had thrown me into me, the bigger stories for one to act and react in.<br /><br />Yet here I am, walking on a path behind her, invited to spend some days on her island after the loss of my father. She is just as strong and beautiful. Her laugh has etched only the smallest of lines on her tan face of kindness. My life’s laughing, (part of her legacy) has now added lines to mine as well. I enjoy them more, knowing who helped plant the seeds of my humor.<br /><br />She is no longer my baby sitter, and I am no longer a child. Our age separation somehow disappeared, like two clouds becoming one. We look at each other and marvel as we share stories that parallel our lives from our islands across the world. Each nod of the head holds deep understanding of the other’s choices that hold pure love and admiration.<br /><br />In times of loss, re- introductions are made. Asking you to open your history box and marvel at its jewels.<br /><br />Our parents must be loving this!<br /><br /><br /> <br /><br />©Lucy Hamel</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07301844525913745602noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3220085865645593378.post-80205062808557925902016-06-09T02:10:00.001-07:002016-06-09T02:16:23.388-07:00CENTERED<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuqRnh6TrhOJqOk84juxM-FVpaPNHvO9MHI9p9sEvuVd5EW3EI-S6uM8FJKms0lxwCO42QOVVacgD8Exh27rAqQugOPBdfwB9ozdRbPy5t9qYGKN3IZjMUmy_cL3EHeIWCmgXdUg7vMnWX/s1600/DSCF4372.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="183" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuqRnh6TrhOJqOk84juxM-FVpaPNHvO9MHI9p9sEvuVd5EW3EI-S6uM8FJKms0lxwCO42QOVVacgD8Exh27rAqQugOPBdfwB9ozdRbPy5t9qYGKN3IZjMUmy_cL3EHeIWCmgXdUg7vMnWX/s320/DSCF4372.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: start;">
<span style="text-align: center;"> </span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: start;">
<span style="text-align: center;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: start;">
<span style="text-align: center;"> Imagine yourself on a tight rope.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
If you sense only the
ground below you,</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
energy moves down and you
may fall.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
If you think only above
you,</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
you will not remember the rope supporting you.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
Yet</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
if you listen with
your be-ing
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
to the space under, the
space over
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
and the space left to
right of your vision
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
you become a piece of a
whole.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
and</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
float in balance.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
Being centered is not a
spot, like the sun or the moon.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
It is every spot that
exists</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
of which you are.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
You are a spot of light
among light itself.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
Centered is being aware.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
A listening in time
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
That holds a true
observer's understanding.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
As well as right to space.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
Calmness lives here.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
In life.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
You experience imbalance
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
yet
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
somehow feel balance with
your place in it.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
Centered</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
All is right and possible.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
Manipulation becomes a
silent memory.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
Movement exists where you
assumed there was none.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
Stillness breathes freely</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
inside
of chaos.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
Being centered will hold
it all</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
And comfortably create
miracles.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
Being centered is not a
spot, like the sun or the moon.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
It is every spot that
exists of which you are.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
You are a spot of light
among light itself.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
Lucy</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Lucyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07819104047605202311noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3220085865645593378.post-31349429954090729372016-06-04T23:32:00.000-07:002016-12-01T20:19:42.665-08:00I URGE YOU TO MOVE<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7uABOymGqX-6Rgs3g1V61oyJUC6enThhr8B8zZK4cthRDKTqZX0ZlLO1xRebuOAgpMYO17FLiDQw84Kwdald3bkFytvhoRYtlFXxDG3IqHadi_mTQGBXxEBahyJp78pBYnHyCBk8uc4Il/s1600/image6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="273" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7uABOymGqX-6Rgs3g1V61oyJUC6enThhr8B8zZK4cthRDKTqZX0ZlLO1xRebuOAgpMYO17FLiDQw84Kwdald3bkFytvhoRYtlFXxDG3IqHadi_mTQGBXxEBahyJp78pBYnHyCBk8uc4Il/s320/image6.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Move.
</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Do not become stagnant.</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Let change happen
</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Let movement lead you to
inspiration.</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
As fluidity loosens up
your rigid thoughts</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
As a song becomes liquid
emotion through melody</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
and tale.</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I urge you to move.</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
When you feel lost.
</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
For even grief loosens
it's grip</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
When your arms are held
high in offering to existence.</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It reminds the heart of
the joy still within.</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Movements are the magic of
Change</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I urge you to move</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
To reach out to all you
can</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Dance under stars</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Crawl if you must</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Let your toes sink in
earth</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
or wiggle in a bath tub</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
blink your eyes</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
squeeze a hand.</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Be totally real</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Invite those who are
envious of your free soul to see you move forward</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
or backward.</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I urge you to move</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Swing your arms</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
swing your legs</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
or find a swing</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
watch the thoughts</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
begin to flow.</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Throw a ball in the air
</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
feel it's return smack in
your palm</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Jump in a cold sea and let
yourself gasp</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Rise like the sun</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
To write in your shadow</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Walk only for the joy of
walking</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Bow only for the joy of
folding</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I urge you to move</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Movements are the magic of
change</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
that let your stillness
become as serene</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
as the moon.</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Lucy</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
Lucyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07819104047605202311noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3220085865645593378.post-10392978757220324502016-05-22T03:51:00.000-07:002017-03-14T00:05:46.221-07:00ASANA LOVE LETTERS<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNPfsYlYAMYtEiugS1z9aSpqLSiTs5LNIGxtVSF8T48ea-DzqkzVkd0mE5WBZM5ym_FB5RgtVGg0BCe2O10YiFgVwyDREjPNIJJXZ1eFDL7-by4UFjIDaoTv6Apul-cINkqalbuel5yyXr/s1600/257572_10151064127333174_97101786_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNPfsYlYAMYtEiugS1z9aSpqLSiTs5LNIGxtVSF8T48ea-DzqkzVkd0mE5WBZM5ym_FB5RgtVGg0BCe2O10YiFgVwyDREjPNIJJXZ1eFDL7-by4UFjIDaoTv6Apul-cINkqalbuel5yyXr/s320/257572_10151064127333174_97101786_o.jpg" width="201" /></a><span style="font-size: medium;">Ella's thigh was
trembling. She stood on her left foot, heal of the right foot raised.
Her right arm wrapped under the right thigh, while her left hand
twisted itself around her curved back to grasp the fingers of the
right. Her left hand felt as if it were grasping for dear life onto a
body dangling over the edge of a building.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">Sweat rolled down her hair
line to the ridge of her nose, a human mini river of effort. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">Her exhale became long and
hard until she heard the teacher's voice as if from another space and
time.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-size: medium;">Inhale..go into you.
Center and calm through the breath.” </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">She looked up slightly,
off to the distant sky. A bird glided past both teasing and inspiring
her with it's freedom. She smiled as if she had just heard an ironic
story. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">Pressing deeply into the
earth with her left foot, she lifted her chest upward and the right
leg that she carried seem to move higher with her. Her body wobbled
for a moment and her feet and heart recalled learning to walk. Hold
on, hold on. Yet she was up, awkward but up. Happiness tilted her
cheekbones towards her eyes.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">Beside her a tanned woman
seemed to pass her in height, hold her leg higher so the brown toes
just entered her field of vision. Ella's breathing paused and time
froze for a moment of jealousy. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">Her body called her back
as she began to loose balance. “Shhhh. Stay with me. Stay here.
Lets play” Ella felt her heart beat, the sweat, her shoulders being
pulled back trying to expose her heart and lifted for just one more
breath.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">Shaking yet holding on,
she lowered her leg and unwound the arms and folded her body down
onto her mat. Her body in fetal, her forehead on the mat. A sigh of
satisfaction slipped out of her mouth. Ella felt like Ella. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
Lucyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07819104047605202311noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3220085865645593378.post-5691836698805491752016-04-15T03:37:00.002-07:002016-04-16T01:45:52.047-07:00CHILDREN KNOW<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSYRSqb-cY7POQMYX4PDS8J8l2zD9IfP4NnHgdHtUXLEJ4hbVxEF_qtncX9FPq9tg9mV2geZ4U6wVpuIrQJy5ZMMoldcNWIpQgjAVmX0b7_3KMOHyLbc4bo1cgONNgTXotzJPJrxpEmm8/s1600/12916131_10153629891008174_8338788843071781029_o+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="237" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSYRSqb-cY7POQMYX4PDS8J8l2zD9IfP4NnHgdHtUXLEJ4hbVxEF_qtncX9FPq9tg9mV2geZ4U6wVpuIrQJy5ZMMoldcNWIpQgjAVmX0b7_3KMOHyLbc4bo1cgONNgTXotzJPJrxpEmm8/s400/12916131_10153629891008174_8338788843071781029_o+%25281%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Children know. Remember?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">There is this feeling when you are running as a child. This feeling of super powers and greatness. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">The moon talks to you, as does any insect. It seems odd that an adult cannot understand this.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">When you look at the dirt, creativity seems natural. Why would anyone want to move away from the magical muddy growing space? A blade of grass holds a whole new universe, lie down for a while and look at it for as long as you choose. It will sit with you.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">When music comes on, move just the way it sounds to your ears. The only style that exists is your style.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I once watched a girl in the grass. She was talking to something in the earth. Her voice like a fairy moving up and down. Boredom didn't happen for her. She was one of the extra lucky ones who knew</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">how to see beyond. Her imagination let her live in a world freer than ours.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I saw a boy leaping on the beach. His arms waved wildly over his head and he was laughing at his own silliness. He was he. The maker of fun.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I remember lying in bed, looking out my window. I saw Jesus float down and say hello. I was just at that age where you are no longer sure you can share what you see. Yet I still remember smiling at him and saying “hi”. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Children know.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">How I wish for each of you to know again. To know how fun it is to just be you. You knew you were the incredible, you knew you were powerful and you knew how to play with “nothing”.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #141823; display: inline; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; line-height: 19.32px;"></span><br /></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="font-size: large;">©Lucy Hamel</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07301844525913745602noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3220085865645593378.post-5182257889543572572015-11-11T09:30:00.000-08:002015-11-11T12:19:05.649-08:00THERE IS ALWAYS MORE TO THE STORY<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">My son Alex calls me Lucy. He changed
from Mom to Lucy when he was about three. It's interesting to me how
people react to this. Some say: “Does it bother you? Isn't it
disrespectful?” Honestly? No, not at all. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">In my way of thinking there was a time
I was not even Lucy let alone Mom. Yet since Alex has come along a mother I am. And still a daughter. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I am visiting my Mom and she no longer
knows my name. My Mom has alzheimer's, many may say “she has no
idea who you are”. My Mom may not know my name or that I am her
daughter, yet who she is and who I am hold an energy that is totally
unique. We hold our love story. When I talk to her, feed her or hold
her there is a response I see in her eyes or sigh that holds a deeper
knowledge maybe unknown to the body she is in.
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">She recognizes true love. A life
force is there. Just consider the way a baby may not know a word or
have control of its limbs but recognizes who it wants to be held by.
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">We are still very limited in knowing
what goes on at a deeper level before or after words.
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">These days when I meditate I feel my
Mom. I feel her hand on my shoulder. Today she was small, about seven
years old with her little hands in mine. She is more powerful than the
ever changing body she is somewhat residing in and she knows that.
She always knew that. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Am I saying my heart is not mourning? Oh, it is, I miss my Mom's vitality just as I miss my face at twenty. I
miss her laughing at me in a way that let me feel soft and funny. I
miss her seriously bad singing and I miss her fast walk. Yet somehow
all that has existed still does.
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">For me, when I say the word “Mom”
my whole being reacts. I suppose for Alex, it
happens with “Lucy”.
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I can just hear my Mom now saying,
“Yes, Lucy. Oh yes!” I know the exact tone she would use.
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Lucyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07819104047605202311noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3220085865645593378.post-59821609507765178212015-09-09T00:39:00.002-07:002015-09-17T22:54:54.133-07:00BREATHING WITH NANNY AND POPPY<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /><br />I woke this morning on this first day of March with a headache. It’s been there for the last four days, joining the rest of my flu which has been visiting me for the last two weeks. Symptoms are gradually improving and leaving one by one yet the heavy head is the one that makes me weak and unable to connect with the world.<br />What is wrong everyone wonders with worry and fear in the eyes? Fear (a virus of power) that catches me in response (I feel it in the tension that takes over and my head gets worse) and I wonder to myself why my body is taking its time? What is it telling me?<br />Rest.<br /><br />Rolling onto my back I felt my spirit and body wanting to do some breath work. I had tried on a few occasions yet felt myself fall asleep before it actually began.<br /><br />Today I began to breathe and walked into my story. My breath brought me to the memory of the house of my grandmother and grandfather. To a house in Queens, New York.<br />I saw the steps, the door, the checkered marble floor and smelled the scent of mothballs and wood in entrance hall, this home smelled of coffee, comfort food and the held greatest feeling of a warm welcome.<br />I saw each room of the home, the carpet, the old stereo system and the bay windows that looked back out to the street where I once played as my grandmother (Nanny) watched and waved and blew kisses.<br /><br />I then saw Nanny’s arm, an arm so sweet and aged. I saw the thin skin that I could slide my hand over and the pretty veins.An awareness of how beautiful this arm was popped into my thoughts.<br />I saw her rubbing vapor rub on my chest as a child, laughing with me, making being sick a funny thing.<br />Suddenly I was holding her hand, my fingers playing with her wedding ring. Love was everything to Nanny. To her love was greatest wealth and what life is for. I felt that she was sad sometimes that not everyone knew this simple truth. Love and laughter ruled in this house in Queens.<br /><br />My grandmother loved. More than anything she loved my grandfather (Poppy). My Poppy was a quiet man, handsome and his eyes held a chuckle (especially for my Nanny).<br />I felt their wisdom and kindness. I felt cared for.<br /><br />Then I could see them dancing. At their fifty year anniversary a song played as they danced. I watched them with their foreheads pressed into each other. A smile of peace on my grandfather’s face.<br />“Longer than there have been stars up in the heavens<br />Higher than any bird ever flew.<br />Deeper than any forrest prime evil.<br />I’ve been in love with you”<br /><br />I felt no revelation. Just pure patience and peace. As my breathing softened I felt my body relaxing, my head felt soft and free.<br /><br />No headache.<br /><br />My feet felt warm as if wrapped in comfort.<br />Bless you Nanny and Poppy. Your warmth and lessons are never-ending and I carry them so gratefully.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">©Lucy Hamel</span></div>
Lucyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07819104047605202311noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3220085865645593378.post-50127618972703322072015-09-05T08:29:00.000-07:002018-06-21T23:14:11.939-07:00AN EDUCATION IN HUMANITY<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPPUtIVM_RrEGr5bijUxCaRUvX7gBXzqE2-AqLKD2L1Xbk0YF0OXeAUWryPUNKykhWCAeiE4BgsNw4F73boqa0FbLuCJ72Q6uM6CsR4IlBsZfNudWay0LcJbdX7LXe7Rdq9rD8MnzikSnC/s1600/413207_10150973525588174_1842648817_o.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPPUtIVM_RrEGr5bijUxCaRUvX7gBXzqE2-AqLKD2L1Xbk0YF0OXeAUWryPUNKykhWCAeiE4BgsNw4F73boqa0FbLuCJ72Q6uM6CsR4IlBsZfNudWay0LcJbdX7LXe7Rdq9rD8MnzikSnC/s400/413207_10150973525588174_1842648817_o.jpg" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><b>“Educating the mind without educating the heart is no education at all.”</b></i><b><i>― Aristotle</i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br />In the summer of 1981 my high school class was graduating without me. I had failed gym class and did not have enough credits to join my friends in this major celebration of our incredible growth.<br /><br />I failed gym because I skipped so many classes, sometimes to be cool and hang out with other 'cool' kids. Sometimes I just needed to disappear in my wonder. I could not really understand how I ended up so far behind and lost, yet I was.<br /><br />High school was also the time I learned I was attractive. It seemed it was all I had. It took practice to know how to handle as it came with its own gifts and pressures. I remember a counselor writing to my mother to 'get a handle' on me as boys kept walking up to talk to me in study time. My mother asked me “What are you doing?” I said “I don't know.” She laughed.<br /><br />Yet high school was also a time of loneliness and depression. I wondered how everyone knew what to do and when to go where. Who guides you in this land of rules? My parents had divorced and life, sadness and change were preoccupying their focus; they were out of touch with my emotional state. I was living in two houses and in each I felt I was a nuisance. I felt forgotten. Or maybe they thought I knew how to handle life? I only have my version.<br /><br /><b>I don't write this to make judgments and accept none against anyone, especially those I love.<br /><br />I write to acknowledge any child or adult that ever felt stupid.<br /><br />I write to acknowledge how wise we can be, beyond the man made definition of 'educated.'<br /><br />I write to encourage emotional education in schools, making them a useful human gift. How are students taught to handle sadness, grief, love, anger, loneliness, fear, jealousy, anxiety and elation to name a few? Does a student know how to define anger or love or how best to use it?</b><br /><b>I write to feel cleaner in who I am.</b><br />To continue:<br /><br />I had lost my way and was not functioning according to the educational systems rules of how I should get from A to B.<br /><br />Today in my breath work meditation I saw myself standing outside the fence, gripping onto to it as I watched my friends graduate. I hardly remember walking to the school grounds yet I do remember the sensation. You know that feeling when you have a high fever and all sounds hurt your ears and your skin feels strange? It was like that.<br /><br />I was there for many reasons. I wanted to see my friends shine. I wanted my mother or father to look for me (I fantasized they would come to find me). Strangely I remember one of the biggest reasons I was there was because I wanted the principal to look in my direction and see me. I wanted him to see my anger, to see me alone, to see his face register that I knew that some people less clever than I were graduating while I sat out. I wanted him to see I knew he made choices of who he would set an “example” with. I wanted him to cringe in shame at his lack of support, but none of that happened.<br /><br />Most people inside the fence avoided looking at me. It was supposed to be a beautiful day and I was messing up the joy. It was interesting to be so vividly visible and yet so invisible. (I suppose a lot like a famous star who's photo is being snapped by hundreds as she falls from grace and yet no one offers a hand)<br /><br />Yet I did receive support in the form of my brother.<br />He showed up and put his arm around my shoulders. I remember he said “How ya doin’?” And really, that was all I needed. I was seen. It was not really the cool thing to hang out with your loser sister, but he did and I am forever grateful. I belong.<br /><br />It took me some time to graduate. I ended up having one of the best summers of my life. I went to Boston University to a summer theatre and dance study program. One hundred kids had been accepted after auditions and one was me. I took seventeen courses and flourished. I had never felt such respect and pride in my life, I never felt so heard. We talked about emotions all the time! The professor sent a letter of high praise with my grades to my high school principal.<br /><br />The principal said those courses were not enough and said I needed something more serious.<br /><br />So I went back to Boston University to see what else I could do. There was a sociology course called “Life Crisis.” It dealt with depression and suicide. It interested me as I had lost some people close to me and I wanted to better understand them. I signed up for the class, my mother drove me there and my father paid. The only thing nobody noticed was that it was a master’s level class and the fact that I had no high school diploma.<br /><br />I went in the evenings to study, read the heavy books, talked with students and doctors that were in the course with me. The final exam was tough for me, but I had read all the course work and was curious and intuitive enough on crisis to sense what to answer.<br /><br />I completed the course and waited for my results, I received a C. I thought...I've done it!<br /><br />I was surprised a few days later to receive a call from the professor of my course. She said she felt the need to call and ask why I could only accomplish a C on the exam. She commented that when I talked in class I seemed so knowledgeable.<br /><br />I laughed and told her “It’s ok!!! I am happy, you see when I entered I didn't know I was in a masters course, I have never done this before!” She was outraged and told me she didn't know if I deserved a C under the circumstances. I shouldn't have been in the course. I felt like my heart stopped.<br /><br />Professor: “How did you get into my class?”<br />Me : “I just signed up and paid”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br />She changed my grade to an F.<br /><br />I asked her to please tell my mother. My mother had driven me to every evening class in the city. She would go off and take an art class at the same time and return for me. We were making friends again. I felt she was remembering me.<br /><br />Mom told the professor she would sue the university. It took time but I received a letter of apology from the university and my C.<br /><br />So back I went to the high school to see if they would now give me my diploma. Again he said no. Again my mother stepped in and went with me to the principal. It only took a few minutes with an adult by my side and I had my diploma. I belong?<br /><br /><b><i>“I have never let my schooling interfere with my education.”<br />― Mark Twain</i></b><br /><br />I had long ago learned the diploma had nothing to do with how smart I was. It was a form of being acceptable to society. It was one of the ways to get from A to B.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">What did I learn from all this? What was I meant to learn?</span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">What do I want to teach?</span></b></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">There are a lot of ways to get from A to B.</span></b></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Power plays exist. Recognize the ego.</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Failure may offer an education.</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Support people when they get a bit lost.</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Ask for guidance when you get lost.</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Share your feelings.</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">There are people out there who think like you.</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Know you were born with gifts.</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Choose to see everyone, even if its difficult.</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Don't judge, stay curious.</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Wisdom finds many ways to arrive.</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Intelligence has many forms not on paper.</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Have faith in your journey.</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Your journey is your best education.</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Superiority is man-made, not God given.</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">A true genius knows we all have genius. </span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>© Lucy Ha</b></span>mel</b></span></div>
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Lucyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07819104047605202311noreply@blogger.com0