United in Prayer -- Will You Join Us?

Dr. Masaru Emoto is a scientist from Japan who has done research, and published information, about the characteristics of water. Among other things, his research revealed that water physically responds to emotions.

When we think of what’s happening in the Gulf, most of us feel overwhelmed and overcome with negative emotions, but while justified in that emotion, we may be of greater assistance to our planet and its life forms if we sincerely, powerfully and humbly send out our collective energy through the simple prayer Dr. Emoto, himself, has proposed. It doesn’t matter whom one prays to, all that matters is that healing, loving energy is sent out and focused on the Gulf.

We are not powerless. We are powerful. Our united energy, released by sending out this prayer daily...multiple times daily...can literally shift the balance of destruction that is taking place. We don't have to know how...we just have to recognize that the power of love is greater than any other power active in the Universe today.

"I send the energy of love and gratitude to the waters and all living creatures
in the Gulf of Mexico and its surroundings.
To the whales, dolphins, pelicans, fish, shellfish, planktons,
corals, algae ... to ALL living creatures ... I am sorry.
Please forgive me. Thank you.
I Love You."

What do we have to lose in trying?


(The information above was sent to me by a friend who’s a spiritual teacher. While I can’t vouch for the accuracy of the data reported, I really believe that this short, simple prayer holds a tremendous amount of power. My friend copied it on sticky notes and posted it in different areas of her home, to ensure she will repeat it several times a day.)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PzASMa_Th10


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The Power of a Single Touch

“The life I touch for good or ill will touch another life, and that in turn another, until who knows where the trembling stops or in what far place my touch will be felt.” ~ Frederick Buechner

Mostly anyone who has been following my daily blog knows, by now, that I am open to experiencing anything which will enhance my view of life, even when it comes to things that are still not scientifically proven.

This past Saturday, I attended a metaphysical fair, and I couldn’t help but notice that the vendor directly across the room from me took aura pictures. Never having seen one, but not totally discounting its possibilities, I decided to wait for my friend Donna to come by so we could have one taken together. My choice wasn’t a random one – Donna and I have been friends for over a decade, and our connection is almost tangible; it is not unusual for one to call the other out of nowhere, if either is experiencing any kind of stress, and it is indeed amazing how deeply we can connect during meditation. We have known of this special connection for years, but the time had come to put it to the test.

When Donna arrived, we sat side by side in front of the camera, and each was asked to lay one hand on a metal plate. We decided to connect the two free hands while the picture was taken. As soon as the photographer was done, Donna mentioned that we should take two pictures, so each of us could have a copy; in the couple of minutes between pictures we never let go of each other’s hand.

The result was stunning. Aside from the colors around our heads, the first photo showed only a very faint white light surrounding our hands, but the second photo was enough to take our breath away – the colors around our heads were the same, but the light around our connected hands had increased exponentially, both in brightness and in size!

Surely, many will find a thousand and one reasons to explain that phenomenon, as the human mind scrambles to find rational funnels to filter information through, but what counts is that no matter what happened and what caused it to be, something DID happen in the few minutes in between the first and the second picture being taken.

Regardless of how some view our energetic connection to others, simple laws of physics show that when two sources of energy come in contact, they connect or repulse each other; what I find amazing about all this, however, is how greatly our own light is increased by the connection. As we connect to others we create a “Christmas tree effect”- our own light might be dim when shining alone, but it gives a lovely glow when connected to other small bulbs.

This concept gives a whole new meaning to the phrase “There is power in numbers”, doesn’t it? Definitely something to think about.

Does Wealth Create Happiness?

“Life in abundance comes only through great love” ~ Elbert Hubbard


Does wealth create happiness? Although a life free of financial worries sounds like the answer to all problems, I personally believe that it is not wealth that makes happiness but happiness that makes wealth.

In my opinion, there is no difference between types of energy, aside from the division between positive and negative. Both of them exist in the Universe, and everything we are, see, hear, feel or touch is made of both. Money and material things are no different – they are a manifestation of energy. When we feel good about ourselves, and feel we deserve to receive good things, the positive energy we send out is a clear signal to the Universe that we are ready and willing to receive the many blessings that are available. When, on the other hand, we feel trapped into a dark tunnel of fear and doubt, we also feel that we have failed ourselves and others, and the signal we send out is that we don’t deserve the blessings that are available to us.

Very often, the prison we are in is an invisible one only we can see. Its walls are built with bricks made of guilt and unresolved issues. In the unfortunate event that we have done anything wrong and have gotten away with it, we fall prey of an even worse internal conflict – while our ego rejoices that we have won one, our inner spirit knows the scale isn’t balanced; justice is not done, the deed has not received adequate punishment, and we subconsciously take it upon ourselves to ensure that we get our just deserved.

Regardless of what we have done, we can’t go back and change things. Our inner spirit knows that, and does not expect any such thing. What we can do, is honor our ability to feel remorse and guilt, because it is a sure sign that our conscience is working, but once we have done so, we must also allow ourselves to let those feelings go and start afresh.

Beating ourselves over something we cannot change will not right the wrongs of the past, but will rather cause us to stumble again in the future. Instead, a complete reshuffling of our life cards needs to take place. First of all, we need to differentiate the things we feel bad about that are really wrong from those that are deemed wrong from a cultural point of view. In the latter case, what we have done may not even be wrong per se, but it is considered so because it goes against the grain of our established societal rules.

And if we can’t forgive ourselves entirely, let’s begin by forgiving others, knowing that, like us, they are held captive within the confines of a similar prison. Forgiving others allows us to heal those parts of ourselves that we can’t directly reach, and gives us a head start on a journey of true love. On the map of abundance, selfless love is the main highway to get to destination; no toll payments are required and the sun shines bright at the end of the horizon.

A Love That Never Dies

“You taught me how to love; you taught me how to live; you taught me how to laugh; you taught me how to cry, but when you left, you forgot to teach me how to forget you.” ~ Hendie

Not too long ago, my mother was telling me about a friend of hers, Anita, who recently lost her husband after a long battle with cancer. She and her husband had been married for almost fifty years, and were only a few weeks shy of celebrating their anniversary. Theirs was a symbiotic relationship - their roles were defined and perfectly aligned, and worked together with the precision of a Swiss clock.

When her husband passed away, Anita was lost. Not only did she have to rely on her sons to take care of mundane matters - she told my mother - but also had to forgive herself for still being alive.

When someone we love suddenly leaves our lives, letting go of them feels like a betrayal. We hang on to pain as an invisible rope that keeps us connected to their essence, and feel that if we let go of the pain we will lose them completely. If we move on, and begin to live again, we feel guilty of leaving them behind, or, if they have chosen to leave willingly, we feel that by forgetting the pain we are condoning their acts.

Truth be said, what connects us to loved ones who are no longer with us is not pain, but the memories we have created over time. As long as we hold our loved ones in our hearts and minds, they will never be gone.

Regardless of how we have lost that person – through physical death or choice of a different path – we need to allow ourselves time to heal. In some Native American traditions, when someone leaves, a specific ritual is performed to “cut the ties that bind”. We establish energetic ties with all who cross our path and become important to us; when something happens to upset the connection the ties become a stranglehold, and stop both from moving forward. Cutting the emotional ties does in no way separate us from the beautiful moments that connected us to them, but only severs the need to hold on to pain.

Those of us who have any kind of spiritual affiliation know that all things happen for a reason. Maybe we had a soul agreement with that person to be in our lives only for a short while and teach us something about ourselves, or we may have something more we need to accomplish before we go while the other person had already fulfilled their life contract. We could drive ourselves mad searching for reasons that may not be for us to know. What counts is that the person we loved came into our lives and left something with us before they departed. Their gift to us may be one we might not readily see or understand, but it undoubtedly touched our lives and changed us in some way.

There is a season to seed and one to blossom; there is a season to ripen and one to harvest. There is a time to hope, to laugh and cry, but most of all, there is a time to be grateful for every chance we have to experience love.

From the Words of a Gypsy: My Love Story

If I look back, and rewind the movie of my life long enough to glimpse at the last twenty years or so, I can see that my marriage was in the cards since before I met my husband, or, even better, it was mapped on the lines of my hand. Odd thing to say, you think? Well, listen to my story, and you might agree with me.

On a cold winter morning, a few weeks shy of Christmas 1986, I skipped school with a friend, and we went to hang out at Piazza Dei Miracoli, near the Leaning Tower. Bored as we were, we scanned the crowd of tourists brave enough to defy the weather in favor of snapping a few pictures, until we noticed an old woman, clad in traditional gipsy clothes, who asked if we were interested in having our palms read. We giggled and agreed.

The woman took my hand, and studied it for a few moments, then lifted her deep chocolate brown eyes to meet mine. “You are getting ready to go on a trip” she said “which will redirect the path you will follow”. Since I was preparing to go to London for the Christmas holidays, my attention was immediately piqued. “When you get back, you will be so enthusiastic from your vacation that you will seek ways to go back. A few months later, you will meet a man, you will marry him and will travel far together, and to see your family again you will embark on a long, long trip”.

After reading my friend’s palm the woman left without even collecting the few coins we had for her, but I couldn’t stop thinking about her words. To the ears of a dreamy teenager they went beyond the notes of a sweet melody, and I began to fantasize about this Mr. Wonderful who would allegedly sweep me off to a faraway land.

Months went by. I went on my trip and fell in love with London; deep down, I secretly hoped to be able to move there some day. That summer, my parents went to a different beach establishment than the one they normally went to, and I noticed it was right beside a morsel of beach owned by the American base in Tirrenia.

It wasn’t long – as I lay on the shore sunbathing – until I noticed a very handsome lifeguard staring in my direction. He nodded when he saw me looking back, and soon the smiles began. Still nursing my dream of moving to London, I jumped at the chance to practice my English, and after gathering all the courage I had, I went to the snack bar of the American establishment to get a soda.

My handsome lifeguard was there. So was the beach doggie, Boo-Boo. I leaned down to pad him, and the lifeguard smiled at me. I smiled back. He gave Boo-Boo most of the ham in his sandwich – a gesture that certainly earned him several points in my book. We began to talk, half broken English and half broker Italian. By the time I left, he had asked me on a date.

We went on our first date on June 16 1987, the night of celebration for St. Ranieri, the patron of Pisa. We watched fireworks and had pizza, and finally sealed that magical evening with a kiss. We continued to date until John left Italy in March 1988; I followed him a few months later in November 1988.

That day was a bittersweet one for me – I was following the love of my life, yet I was saying goodbye to all I had loved and held dear until then. That was twenty years ago - John and I will celebrate our twenty-first wedding anniversary this spring. As a couple we have encountered some hard moments, but have conquered each stone and moved forward together. The old gypsy’s prediction still lives on.

Until Death Do Us Part: A Reflection on Love

In The Lady or the Tiger? Frank Stockton explores the impact of emotions on human decisions, especially when one must choose between passion and true love. http://www.eastoftheweb.com/short-stories/UBooks/LadyTige.shtml

In the story, a barbaric king chooses to leave justice to divine law and orders an arena to be built. From that day on, when one of his subjects is accused of breaking laws or is found guilty of otherwise questionable behavior, the king condemns the poor soul to meet his destiny in the arena. Behind two doors of the arena hide both an aggressive tiger and a beautiful maiden. The prisoner himself chooses which door to unlatch, and his fate is sealed – he will either be killed by the tiger or married to the maiden. Either way, no human decision will have any weight on the outcome; if killed by the tiger the subject is believed to have been guilty and promptly punished, while if he makes it out alive, he immediately receives a reward for his innocence by marrying a beautiful woman.

It so happens that the king’s only daughter, a young woman just as intense as her father, falls in love with a handsome young fellow who is, unfortunately, not a noble man. When word of the forbidden affair gets to the king, he immediately orders the young man to be imprisoned and condemns him to be judged in the arena.

As the day of the final judgment approaches, a ferocious tiger and the most beautiful maiden in the kingdom are chosen, and both are hidden behind the doors. When everything is ready, the young man is led into the arena, where he bows in front of the king and his daughter before courageously taking his place in front of the two doors. Before pulling one of the levers, he meets his lover’s apprehensive gaze and waits for a sign. Now, the king’s daughter knows exactly which door hides the tiger and which door hides the maiden, but she’s torn in her decision – if she signals to the door hiding the tiger, her lover will die, while if she signals toward the door hiding the maiden he will be saved but he will be forced to marry the young girl whom she is already jealous of.

Finally she makes her choice, and subtly lifts her right arm only for her lover to see. Without a doubt, the young man approaches the right door and opens it. At this point the story ends, leaving the reader wondering whether the unfortunate young fellow will live or die. This quite ambiguous ending is intentional, and it triggers a reflection upon the type of emotions which rule our decisions. Which door do you think the young man opens, and why?

When my son and I read the story together, we had opposite ideas – I thought the princess indicated the door with the maiden, while my son believed she signaled the door with the tiger. When I asked him why, his answer was simple – the princess was jealous and she preferred to see her young lover dead rather than happy in the arms of another woman. When I explained the story to other people I know and posed the question to them, they answered the same way my son did.

Indeed, passion and jealousy are powerful forces, able to cloud our better judgment. Quite often, we subconsciously wish to control the people we claim to love, and the mere thought of our loved ones happy with someone else triggers feelings of self-doubt we are unprepared to deal with.

True love is not threatened by competition, and it shouldn’t fill us with a need to “own” people, but rather with a feeling of joy at the thought of seeing our loved ones happy, with or without us, similarly to the way we feel toward our children. We don’t have to physically be with someone to love them, as being in love shouldn’t be equal to being in need. Too often we look toward our outside world to find what we should seek within to fill the void, and unfortunately, many of those relationships meet an unfortunate ending.

I suppose the fate of the young man will forever remain in the eye of the beholder, and that each person will choose the ending most appropriate to their way of seeing love, but for myself I really hope the princess made the right decision and allowed her lover live.

The Little Sticky Note

“Hope is faith holding out its hand in the dark.” ~ George Iles

Last night I was reading of a young girl who walked around with a bag of pennies and dropped them randomly for people to find. When someone asked her why she did it, her reply was just as candid as it was profound: “I want everyone to feel lucky today.”

Reading that story made me smile, and it took me back to a few years ago when, with no specific motive, I wrote down the words “I believe” on a whole bunch of sticky notes and left them in different places I went – doctor’s office, grocery store, post office. I don’t know what, if anything, happened to those notes, but I know that one of them made a difference in one person’s life. This particular day, I had stopped by a drug store near my house at the time, and dropped a few of the notes here and there, without paying attention where I left them. Since I went to this store quite often, and was pretty much familiar with most of the people who worked there, I noticed one day, a couple of months later, that one of them was missing from the team; I inquired at the cash register, and I was told that she had left.

A few more months passed, and fate allowed me to run into this young lady one evening at the grocery store. She looked radiant and recognized me immediately. I asked her how life was treating her and she replied that she had never been so happy - her husband had gone back to work after recovering from a terrible accident, and she was back in school to finish her degree which she had to abandon when he no longer could financially provide for the two of them. After his accident, he could not work for several weeks, and they had fallen behind with their bills. If that wasn’t enough, her own health was not good, and her diabetes – a condition she was diagnosed with since her teen years – had taken a turn for the worse.

She told me that one day, a few months before, she had gone to work feeling particularly depressed; everything in her world seemed to have lost its colors and she could not see any light at the end of the tunnel she was walking through. Until she saw a bright yellow sticky note near a pile of sweaters stacked on a sale table. “It was as if in that moment God was nudging me to go on when I felt I couldn’t walk any more” she said, “those two little words - I believe – stared me down and I suddenly knew it would all pass.”

After finding the note, her attitude changed, and she took each obstacle not as a defeat but as a test to her faith. She focused on the good things she had in her life – a loving husband, a good manager who allowed her to stay home when her husband needed her, and the fact that despite everything, they had enough money to live on. When her husband went for a check-up a couple of weeks later, his doctor was amazed at his progress, and within a few more weeks he was able to work again. Her own blood sugar was back under control as well.

When we think of helping someone, the first thing that comes to mind is that we don’t have enough money to share with others, but physical outreach isn’t the only way to help our fellow humans. Everyone is rich enough to share a kind word, or to give a gift of hope when others can no longer find it for themselves. Even a penny, or a little sticky note, can bring light where there is only darkness.

Counting Down to Christmas

As the countdown to Christmas day continues, some are in the clutches of panic. “Two weeks!” exclaimed a lady to a friend, as they were waiting in line at a food kiosk in the local mall to grab a quick bite between one purchase and the other, “all I have is two weeks. How can I get everything done, in such little time?”

It wasn’t the words, as much as her shrill, nervous tone of voice that caught my attention. She was indeed frazzled. Although she was attempting to make small talk with her friend, describing her lengthy list of chores, she continued snapping at her two small children and darting her eyes back and forth as if ready to run for her life. Similarly, I’ve heard others referring to Christmas as something they couldn’t wait to pass, as if they were talking about a flu virus. Is this what Christmas has become, a dreaded list of chores?

Christmas is a time to love, to spread cheer and connect to others; it is a time of inner rebirth and renewal of the self, but for many it’s one of the most stressful times of the year. We have become so consumed with the importance of appearance and glitter that we are concerned of the way others will judge us if we can’t keep up with our “lists”. Sometimes, we just need to sit back and take a deep breath to see that things are not as overwhelming as they seem; if we don’t get everything done perfectly, life will continue, the sun will continue to rise and set, and all will still be okay.

Realistically, everyone could shop for all they need in one day. Most chain stores and malls carry a plethora of items, aimed at pleasing everybody. Something can always be found, even at the last minute. What truly matters in the gift giving business is the fact that we have taken the time to want to honor those we love with a small token which doesn’t necessarily need to match something on their wish list. Gift cards can be our friends, too. Those who don’t have the financial availability to shop much can probably afford one trip to a craft store to buy paper and a couple of markers; make nice, homemade, individualized cards, including a hand-written coupon for the type of personal help our loved ones might need.

Cooking is another puzzle I can’t find the pieces for; I hear people, two weeks ahead of Christmas, say the need to start cooking; what possibly can they have to cook that takes so long? Grandma will not be rolling in her grave if we aren’t baking her special sausage rolls recipe this year.

Christmas shouldn’t be about getting anxious over things that truly don’t reflect the spirit of the season. It is more important to smile and be kind to a stranger, than it is to stress over societal impositions. Let love be the main course, the rest is only garnish.

A Project for the Holidays

Do you remember the snow monster in Christmas movies – the one that Santa was able to change from bad to good with a gift? I watched that movie last night with my children, and it made me think of how easy it is to reach out to others.

Among the people we know, there is always at least one snow monster. I, for one, have met a few; they put on a very strong front to intimidate others because they have been previously hurt, and feel the need to wear a spiked armor for protection. Deep down, they are sensitive and caring, vulnerable and afraid, but on the surface they come through as an ice storm, ready to attack the opponent with icy daggers.

In the movie, when Santa gives him the gift, the snow monster is surprised, and is unsure of what he should do. All he’s ever received, up to this point, are fear and anger – the only possible responses to his threatening, cold and heartless behavior. Suddenly, despite his tough appearance, someone is offering him a gift. The monster is at a loss; his chest deflates, his eyes open wider, and he humbly asks Santa what he should do from then on, since he has never learned to be good. His rough, scary appearance is gone, and is replaced by a gentle demeanor.

So, should we follow Santa’s example and give gifts to mean people? Maybe we should. They can be material gifts - if one feels so inclined - but what will truly “thaw” the snow monsters are things money can’t buy: a hug, a kind word, a bit of human warmth. They expect swords and arrows; an offer of unconditional love will slice through the rough peel and reach the soft core.

The response is quite amazing. At first, they might even get uglier, as the sweet words will burn a hole in the icy crust, and the “monsters” will feel suddenly vulnerable. They might remain speechless, as they have never prepared answers for a positive exchange, but at that point, the magic has begun; that one single, tiny seed of love will burrow in their hearts and grow, and may be the catalyst for incredible changes ahead.

We can make this a project for the holidays – that of thawing as many snow monsters as we can, and give them the chance to experience a Christmas miracle, maybe for the first time in their lives. As my grandmother once said: “The mightier and uglier they appear, the more they need to be loved. If you give out gifts, would you not want to hand them out to the real needy? Love is no different.”

The Two Wolves

While many of us remained painfully glued to TV screens as Shaniya Davis’s body finally surfaced, the minds of most struggled to wrap around whatever could have possibly motivated her mother to open the door to such evil. A short story came to mind, one I read a long time ago which always stuck with me. I don’t suppose anyone has any doubts as to which wolf Shaniya’s mother fed.

“An old Cherokee man went walking in the mountains with his grandson. They sat on a rock and observed a pack of wolves in the distance.

The old man told his grandson: “Do you see those wolves over there?”

When the young man nodded, the old Cherokee continued. “At all times, there are two wolves living inside each of us. One is greedy, aggressive, envious, fearful and confrontational. The other is gentle, nurturing, embracing, trusting, peaceful and humble. The two are at odds with each other and fight incessantly.”

The young man remained silent and continued to stare at the wolves in the distance; then he turned toward his grandfather and said: “Which of the two wolves survives the fight and lives?”

The old Cherokee man replied: “The one you feed”.”

It is too late for Shaniya, but it is not late for each of us to take a moment and look within our own lives to see what type of feelings we allow our energy to feed. Change does begin with ourselves and ripples outward toward the rest of the world, touching and empowering other lives as it moves.

The Bearded Dragon

“Boundless love always manages somehow to sparkle through your limited form.” ~ John Welwood


Something very strange happened to me yesterday. I had gone to the pet store near my husband’s business to pick up a can of goldfish flakes, and since I had a few minutes to spare I went to the live animal section to check out the snakes.

While I was admiring a baby water dragon, I saw something moving in the enclosure right beside it, so I looked and saw a bearded dragon. Since I’ve never found bearded dragons particularly attractive, I averted my eyes back to his more colorful water cousin, but with the corner of my eye I noticed that the bearded dragon had come right to the separating glass and was looking straight at me.

I looked again, and that’s when the bearded dragon put his tiny hands on the glass and lifted himself up, as if he wanted to be held. If that wasn’t crazy enough, I felt compelled to put my hand on the glass of the case and he leaned against it. Totally overwhelmed by the dragon’s response, I gently tapped on the glass and ran my finger over the surface as if I was petting him. When I did that, the dragon leaned against the glass even more, and closed his eyes.

I stood there for several minutes, then I pulled my hand off and the dragon immediately opened his eyes, staring directly into my own. I was smitten. Even if only for a few moments, I had connected with this tiny creature.

I reluctantly left him and went to pay for the fish food. I wanted to ask the cashier if it is normal for bearded dragons to be that sociable, and if they routinely bond with humans they’ve never seen before, but the feeling of what had just happened was so pure that I didn’t want to taint it by talking about it.

As I drove to pick up my daughter from school, I thought back about the dragon and about the incredible connections we make when we least expect them. My reality and that of this tiny lizard are worlds apart, yet a connection was undeniably there. We don’t have to be or think alike for energy to flow between us and others.

The body and the rational mind see the differences that exist among people and other living creatures. Spirit sees everything and everyone as one, only separated by our individual perceptions.

I don’t know if the little dragon will still be there tomorrow or in the days to come, but even if I never see him again, I know that for one single moment I was given an amazing gift, one which I will carry in my heart for years to come.

Fear Stings

“Love is what we were born with. Fear is what we learned here.” ~ Author unknown

My daughter and I have been watching a colony of Polistes wasps – commonly known as ‘Paper Wasps’ – build their nest on our porch throughout the summer. The “construction project” started several weeks ago, when the founding queen came along and picked an upper corner to settle her domain. Within a few days from her appearance, the first chamber was built, then a few more, until the finished job looked like an upside-down umbrella, with only a few rooms insulated by a paper-like substance and most left open.

Since paper wasps are rarely aggressive and are natural enemies of many garden pests, we left them alone and they never bothered with us, even when we were at very close distance. The whole symbiotic process worked great until a friend of my son – terrified of bees and wasps alike – came over this weekend and went out to sit on the porch. Unbeknownst to me, he must have seen one or the workers fly around looking for insects, got scared, and used a wooden staff I keep by the door to knock the nest down, hoping to drive the wasps away.

When I walked outside later, I saw the nest on the ground and a group of workers still in the spot where the nest originally was, so I picked it up and looked at it – babies were still nestled in the chambers and moving. The moment I picked it up, a few workers began to fly around, but my attention was not on them; in that moment I was focused on finding a way to save the babies.

I finally found a spot slightly elevated and protected from the elements and set the nest there; all along, the workers continued to fly around a few inches away. As soon as I moved away they went back to the nest and resumed their routines.

When I related the incident to my husband, he was stunned that the wasps had allowed me to pick up their nest full of babies and had kept away instead than stinging me, but I didn’t think it was all that odd. Animals and insects alike can perceive vibrations, and wasps especially are so sensitive to smell that can be trained to detect any chemical, including substances used to produce illegal drugs. When we are afraid, our bodies produce different chemicals than when we are relaxed, thus changing the scent we emanate. As I focused on saving the babies, fear was the last thing on my mind, and the wasps never felt I was a threat. Somehow, in the greater scheme of things, they knew I was trying to help them ensure the continuation of their colony.

By focusing on love we can shift the polarity of our experiences. We might think that anger and hatred are the other face of love, but fear actually is – anger and hatred are secondary emotions that are born from fear. When we choose to look at life through love rather than fear, we dramatically cut our chances of getting hurt, as others don’t perceive us as a threat. On the contrary, when we are fearful – and the vibes we send out are negative ones, since anger and fear are related to each other – others assume we will hurt them and they instantly shift into a defensive mode, ready to attack.

Shifting from fear to love is simpler than we think. Even wasps seem to know that.

When Our Relationship is Only a Band-Aid (repost)

“Don't smother each other. No one can grow in the shade.” ~Leo Buscaglia

Just a few days ago my mother was excitedly telling me of the cruise she and my father are going on to celebrate their fiftieth wedding anniversary coming up in October. The moment I hung up the phone, a friend stopped by, and I shared the happy news with her. My friend sighed and asked what their secret is.

Indeed, there is no secret to having a long, healthy relationship, but a good dose of self-love and respect are certainly key ingredients toward its longevity.

Too often, people embark on relationships to fill inner voids they are unable to satisfy on their own. Because of the burst of energy directed at them by the new partner, they feel renewed, happy and fulfilled. However, as soon as the “newness” wears out – and each person in the game feels comfortable in showing their true colors – the band-aid relationship is defunct.

If people approach a relationship as a whole, their communion is one of equal exchange. No issues of control get in the way, because each person is self-confident and doesn’t need a daily shot of reassurance. On the contrary, when someone approaches a new relationship as a half - and hopes someone else will make them whole by supplying a substitute for the self-love they were lacking in the beginning - the end result is often a sad one.

In the early days of the relationship, when both parties float on the wings of infatuation, each of them is feeding the other person a great deal of energy - the energy flows back and forth and keeps both fulfilled and secure. As days go by, and the level of comfort grows, the amount of energy fed to the other person naturally decreases. Suddenly, the whole is split back in two halves, and each is loudly demanding its fix to feel complete. As the half is starved of its daily dose, old patterns of doubt and fear that were temporarily deactivated are triggered back into action; subconsciously terrified at the thought of being cut off from the energy supply, the person being ignored initiates conflicts to trigger at least a flow of negative energy. Their aggressive approach turns the other person off even more, with the result of a complete shut-off. After a few unsuccessful and pained exchanges, the relationship dies.

We often mistake our fear of being alone with love. Some fear losing others, through death or otherwise, because they are afraid no one will be there to take care of them; other people fear losing loved ones because they need to take care of someone else. Being needed creates a gateway for energy to flow. Either way it's about control, which originates from the ego, not from the soul.

We need to fall in love with ourselves, before we fall in love with others, and know that we are worthy of our own respect and happy being with ourselves. Until we enjoy our own company, we shouldn’t expect others to pick up our slack.

The Child Who Was Saved From Himself

"When you feel like giving up, remember why you held on for so long in the first place." ~ Unknown

Everyone who knows me well also knows that I have three children by birth, and one by soul connection. The latter is the grandson of one of my dearest friends, and somehow, he has always been like a son to me.

As a child, he has always been overly controlled by his mother, and grew up despising authority in every form – in his mind, rules are synonymous of control, and he won’t have any of it. After being crushed most of his young life he finally hit the infamous teen years, and decided he was done with it.

From that day on, he rebelled against everything, and came into constant conflicts with his mother. Suddenly, the subdued little child turned into a punk teenager, ready to fight anyone who got in his way. After he ran away from home several times, his mother decided she was done with him too, and practically threw him out on the street - not before telling him one final time that he would never amount to anything in his life.

He found shelter at his grandparents’ home, and although the original adjustment was a bit rough for all involved, they all finally settled into a living arrangement everyone was comfortable with. During one of the crisis, I told my friend how much I admired her efforts, and her only reply to me was: “Regardless of how he is behaving now, he is my grandson, and I love him.”

Somehow, rather than being swept into the drama of the current situation, she and her husband kept their focus on what was truly important. At the time his mother threw him out, he was a child slightly older than fifteen, freshly dropped out of high-school, with no car, no money, and no job; he was certainly not able to care for himself.

My friend and her husband accepted him for who he is. They never tried to change him, and showed him that love is powerful enough to rise above differences of style or opinion. They both knew that he was at risk of running away again, and would have easily become another face on the list of missing children.

I know there were many times my friend was ready to give up, but if she hadn’t hung on, she would have missed the opportunity she finally had to see her beloved grandson graduate high-school; if she had given up on him, she never would have heard of his current plans to attend culinary school.

When her boy was lost, she turned off her immediate vision of the obvious, and focused instead on the light she knew still existed in him. She fed that tiny light a little each day, until it grew and strengthened on its own. Although her eyes showed her a little ugly duckling, through her heart she saw the beautiful swan hiding within.

She held on to her vision, and allowed time and love to take care of the rest. And a child was saved from himself.

When Our Relationship is Only a Band-Aid

“Don't smother each other. No one can grow in the shade.” ~Leo Buscaglia


Just a few days ago my mother was excitedly telling me of the cruise she and my father are going on to celebrate their fiftieth wedding anniversary coming up in October. The moment I hung up the phone, a friend stopped by, and I shared the happy news with her. My friend sighed and asked what their secret is.

Indeed, there is no secret to having a long, healthy relationship, but a good dose of self-love and respect are certainly the key ingredient toward its longevity.

Too often, people embark on relationships to fill inner voids they are unable to satisfy on their own. Because of the burst of energy directed at them by the new partner, they feel renewed, happy and fulfilled. However, as soon as the “newness” wears out – and each person in the game feels comfortable in showing their true colors – the band-aid relationship is defunct.

If people approach a relationship as a whole, their communion is one of equal exchange. No issues of control get in the way, because each person is self-confident and doesn’t need a daily shot of reassurance. On the contrary, when someone approaches a new relationship as a half - and hopes someone else will make them whole by supplying a substitute for the self-love they were lacking in the beginning - the end result is often a sad one.

In the early days of the relationship, when both parties float on the wings of infatuation, each of them is feeding the other person a great deal of energy - the energy flows back and forth and keeps both fulfilled and secure. As days go by, and the level of comfort grows, the amount of energy fed to the other person naturally decreases. Suddenly, the whole is split back in two halves, and each is loudly demanding its fix to feel complete. As the half is starved of its daily dose, old patterns of doubt and fear that were temporarily deactivated are triggered back into action; subconsciously terrified at the thought of being cut off from the energy supply, the person being ignored initiates conflicts to trigger at least a flow of negative energy. Their aggressive approach turns the other person off even more, with the result of a complete shut-off. After a few unsuccessful and pained exchanges, the relationship dies.

We often mistake our fear of being alone with love. Some fear losing others, through death or otherwise, because they are afraid no one will be there to take care of them; other people fear losing loved ones because they need to take care of someone else. Being needed creates a gateway for energy to flow. Either way it's about control, which originates from the ego, not from the soul.

We need to fall in love with ourselves, before we fall in love with others, and know that we are worthy of our own respect and happy being with ourselves. Until we enjoy our own company, we shouldn’t expect others to pick up our slack.

Reflections

People are like stained-glass windows. They sparkle and shine when the sun is out, but when the darkness sets in their true beauty is revealed only if there is a light from within. - Elisabeth Kubler-Ross

From the time they are born, humans need interaction with one another. Many studies have shown that children who lacked bonding with at least a caregiver during the first years of life have a greater tendency of developing sociopathic traits during their adult life.

Regardless of how much or little attention any of us are given, we mold our lives in response to our environment. Others dictate our self-image and worth by mechanically feeding our needs of confirmation.

Life appears easy for those who seem to have it all – looks, money, success - yet, many of these people aren’t happy. They become so accustomed to associating their self-worth and identity with the positive feedback they receive while riding the crest that if anything happens – or threatens to happen – to mar the assets they are loved for, they take a nose dive into self-pity, and they struggle to merely survive. Hollywood and music stars often stumble into the same trap. They are repeatedly told how gorgeous, talented and powerful they are, but when age or a different trend in their sector threaten their future popularity they become overwhelmed and seek solace in numbing substances.

Real people’s lives are no different. Many of us measure our worth against a superficial scale and if something comes along to undermine the identity we have built we are likely to become anxious and depressed. It is easy to feel wonderful when everything runs smooth, and people feed us positive energy. Nobody is more agreeable than the person everyone agrees with and adores.

But what happens when the going gets tough and, suddenly, the outside feed is suspended? Many will go to extremes, and morph in such ways that will ensure their energetic survival. They learn how to thrive on positive and negative energy alike, and they will associate to people they perceive stronger to appear more likeable.

Being in good terms with our inner person is essential if one chooses to be happy. True acceptance needs to initiate inside of us, not outside. Love from others will come once we have become comfortable with loving ourselves and enjoying our own company.

Love is the glue that keeps us connected to others and to ourselves, but before we can reach out to others - or hope that others will reach out to us - we must extend that hand to ourselves.

Namaste

"I honor the place in you where Spirit lives. I honor the place in you which is of Love, of Truth, of Light, of Peace; when you are in that place in you, and I am in that place in me, then we are Truly One." ~ Author Unknown


The first time I heard the word “Namaste” was in a chant on tape I had purchased as a meditation aid. Although the vibrations of the word were very peaceful and definitely a mood enhancer, I had no idea what the word itself meant. I decided to do a little research on Namaste – what I found definitely made me appreciate the moment I purchased the tape.

Namaste is a beautiful expression which represents the belief of a Divine spark being present within each of us. Interpretations of this word include: 'The God in me greets the God in you", or "The Spirit in me meets the Spirit in you". Regardless of definitions, this very amazing word clearly states that we are all connected as one, and we should recognize and acknowledge that Spirit in each other. Granted, sometimes it is hard to see that spark in others. It can become so deeply buried under layers of earthly illusion that we readily assume some people have lost their light. Yet, they never do. As long as a breath of life exists within the body, the light of Spirit is ever present.

For some the light has become so dim they can no longer identify it within themselves, and may need the light of others to guide them back to the source. With the flame of one candle we can light a room full of them, if we pass the flame around. There is no reason why people can’t do the same. Each of us has that power. And what about those people whose only purpose in life appears to be that of creating strife and heartache? Are they a faulty product of the mind of Creation, or is crossing paths with them simply a test we must surpass before we strengthen the flame within ourselves?

Being able to recognize the presence of a Divine spark in all is exhilarating in the least. Our ego pushes for us to become isolated through fear, doubt, earthly judgment – sharing such a bond with all faces of creation is synonymous of never being alone.

No matter who crosses our path today – nice or bitter that they may be – let’s make an effort to greet them with “Namaste”. We do not need to do so out loud or overtly, but can just whisper it to ourselves. Their ears may not hear us, but the Divine being living inside of them will acknowledge the greeting, and will certainly nod in recognition of having met a kindred Spirit, if only for a moment.

For Better or Worse

I recently finished reading a book, written by ST Underdhal, entitled “Remember This”.
"Remember This" is the story of Lucy Kellogg, an elderly lady - once independent and dynamic - whose grip on reality slowly slips away as she surrenders to the unforgiving talons of Alzheimer disease. Lucy Kellogg loses things, confuses reality and fantasy, gets lost herself, but ultimately remembers those who hold a special place in her heart. The pain Lucy's son feels as he watches his mother slowly losing her connection to reality - and reversing back to being a child - is almost tangible. I thought about this book yesterday, as I ran into an older couple, while visiting my husband at work. At first sight, the couple looked suave and very ordinary, until I noticed the lady was slightly on edge, and followed her husband’s every move with apprehension. I sat with them and struck a conversation, and quickly learned that her husband has Alzheimer disease.
She told me a bit of the struggle they go through on a daily basis, and of the paralyzing fear which takes hold of her anytime she loses him out of her sight for even brief periods. She told me about the patience that’s required in taking care of someone afflicted with the disease, especially in the final stages, and sadly stated that her two sons – both grown and living out of state –refuse to help in any way. Furthermore, she said, they have no visible patience whenever they visit, and quickly lose their temper with him.
As the lady spoke I could feel my heart breaking for her husband, and for her. They raised two sons, sacrificed years of their lives to make sure their boys were well taken care of, and once they needed a small return of love and comprehension, it was simply not there. Talk about biting the hand that feeds you.
I thought about all the situations when I lose my own patience. It is easy to become irritated when people are on a different page, but how could it ever get this far? How could I fault someone for not being mentally sound? I thought about my parents, and all they have sacrificed to raise me into the woman I am now, and knew that although patience is not my greatest virtue, I could never do that to them.
Before leaving, I looked at the gentleman sitting beside her; He was like a small child living in his own world, comfortable in the knowledge that his wife was there to take care of him. I stood up and hugged the lady, wishing her good luck. The gentleman looked up at me, a confused look curtained his soft, gentle eyes; it was as if he noticed me then for the first time. I leaned over and hugged him too. He smiled and hugged me back.
When I left, I turned around twice to look at the couple through the glass windows. They looked so sweet sitting there together. I silently said a small prayer for the lady to continue being strong, and for the gentleman to go through these last stages of his ordeal with the smallest amount of discomfort. I also said a small prayer of gratitude, for being allowed to witness, on an ordinary day, such an extraordinary display of genuine love.

The Masks We Wear

Masks are one of the most remarkable manmade creations used in rituals throughout recorded history, used by our ancestors to form a bridge between themselves and the Divine.
Though in modern times the mask has a negative connotation of disguise with the intent to deceive, the ancient world perceived masks as tools of revelation, a connection to invisible powers.
“Identity masks” are often worn to hide the vulnerable parts of ourselves, and most of them are molded in response to societal demands, parental suggestions and peer pressure.
Most of us wear some sort of mask to introduce ourselves to the world. It is not done to deceive anybody; rather, it is an effort we make to ensure that we are accepted and loved by others. Many feel that they could not be accepted for who they truly are, so they slip the mask on. Sometimes they become so used to doing it, that they are unable themselves to differentiate who they truly are from who they believe people want them to be.
We constantly blame the world for not accepting us for who we are, yet we don’t fully accept ourselves. We would rather go on and be who we are not, rather than recognize that the standards we measure ourselves against are manmade and often based on others’ perceptions of good and bad.
The person who lives inside of us may be scared, bruised, shy, but it is rarely bad.
The need to hide behind a mask is self-imposed, and as such it can be eliminated.
If we take a glimpse of our true selves, who are we, really? Are we truly the person we are portraying? Or is that person someone our caregivers and societies wanted it to be? Do we really believe what we claim to believe? Do we really despise what we assert to despise? Or have we grown to believe we do just because it would make someone else happy and proud?
What about you? Who is the true self hidden behind your mask?

The Gift of Now

In “Journey to Ixtlan", Carlos Castaneda writes about the Angel of Death as being always present near one’s left shoulder. If one turns fast enough, Castaneda writes, it is possible to catch a glimpse of the Angel, and remember to live every moment fully because it could be our last.
This past week, my friend Connie had a chance to come face to face with her own mortality. After becoming very ill because of an untreated kidney infection, she was taken to the hospital, and immediately admitted. For a few days, her doctors struggled to keep the infection under control, and her condition seemed to deteriorate by the minute.
Saying that Connie was terrified is a serious understatement. She knew her body was shutting down, and everything she had taken for granted was quickly spiraling out of control. Connie thought she was going to die.
When I spoke with her, the first words out of her mouth were about her children. She was afraid of how they would cope if something happened to her, and also realized how much she missed simply having them around. She talked of the times she got angry with them over trivial things, when she could have instead told them how much she loved them.
Having three children myself, I totally understand the frustrations of parenting. Yet, Connie’s ordeal seriously made me think.
What if something was to happen to me, and I wasn’t able to connect to all the people I love or respect before leaving this earthly plane? Would they know how much I care about them? If I was to die tomorrow, would it really matter that my three-year-old daughter flooded the bathroom today, or that my husband didn’t throw his dirty socks in the hamper this morning?
We spend such a large portion of our lives worrying about things that don’t matter, that we lose focus of what is truly important. We hold grudges against people we love over unimportant matters, and never think that we may not have another chance to make amends.
After talking to Connie, I thought about my own family, my children, my parents who live far away. I realized that many times I hang up the phone without telling my husband that I love him, I choose housework over going to the park with my children, I forget to call my parents and friends because I am too busy. I never think that those simple actions could be the last chance I have to let them know how I feel. If something suddenly happened to me – or them – those perfect opportunities would be lost forever.
We are programmed to allow life's circumstances to take over, to focus on making the next dollar as if it is the last chance we have to become rich, and we forget that it is up to us to appreciate each moment and the subtle blessings that surround us at all times. The dishes will still be there the next day, and the paperwork will be waiting for us when we get back, but will our loved ones be there tomorrow? Or even later today?
Each moment of our lives that is not fully appreciated is a moment we have wasted; it's a gift we have not accepted; it's an opportunity that may be lost forever.