Universal Rules

There are rules in the Universe
not necessarily a published handbook to read and understand.

Religions each have their own handbook.

Secularists look to philosophers for guidance.

Instinct and intuition are two guides to such rules.

Watch, feel and flow with nature and weather.

Know that we are a part of the dynamism of nature

despite our convenient world of technology.

I do not dispute the destruction done by 

natural forces of the universe

earthquake,

paralyzing snowstorms

avalanches

flash floods

hurricanes

tornadoes

volcanic eruption

pull of moon, sun and stars

Listening to 

trees and wind

sun, rain or snow

birds, animals and fish;

watching the movement of

clouds

stars

sun and moon

tells stories of life and living,

how and when to survive.

Weather and nature is ever reliable.

“When one tugs at a single thing in nature,

he finds it attached to the rest of the world.”

~ John Muir

Tickle Time!

Tickle ~

 ...me pink

    your imagination

      the ivories

  your toes

    trunk 

      my ribs

         your fancy

a funny bone

   your conscience.

“What the world calls originality is only

an unaccustomed method of tickling it.”

~ George Bernard Shaw

Healing Hugs

Healing Hugs

“Grandmother. Grandmother.”

He tugged and tugged at the sleeve of her smock.    

Smell of wood smoke from the supper fires mingled with aroma of meat roasting, stew bubbling and midsummer heat. Grandmother turned from her cooking to be greeted by her five year old grandson, a question in her eyes.  He stretched his small brown arms up to her and presented her with a wriggling black puppy, one of the litter from the stray bitch dog adopted by the summer camp.

“Can you help him?  He’s hurt.”

Putting the stew off of the fire, she took the puppy and the boy

into her arms. Examining the wounded puppy, she saw only a little nick on one floppy brown ear. Grandmother put the puppy down just as the mother came looking for her missing baby.  The mother dog, all in one motion, lay down and pulled her little one to her with her two front paws, all the while licking the little nick on the pup’s ear.  The little one cuddled into his mother and began suckling while he was being cleaned.

The little boy’s grandmother said "See how she is cleaning and cuddling all at the same time. Healing is not just about fixing the outsides.  Healing is when love from inside of us reaches our sores and hurt places.  When we love the insides, and fix broken places on the outside at the same time, healing can begin."

The little boy gravely nodded his head, big brown eyes watching the nameless dog and her pup. “So," he said slowly "if I just love the puppy without cleaning his cut, it wouldn’t get better and if I only cleaned the cut but then was mean to him, it might not get better either."

The grandmother said  "Yes, child. The love shown by each of us helps our insides to be happy.  Healing is not a simple task to be done quickly.  Only part of the task is cleaning and fixing.  The other part is hugs and kindness truly meant, gentleness that heals hearts that are bruised and torn."

The little boy sighed as he stroked the now sleeping puppy and his mother.  He looked at his grandmother and cautiously said "If I get hurt - can I come to you for a healing hug?" 

His grandmother laughed with a gentle low chuckle "Of course child.  If it’s a big hurt, I might have to get help, but if it’s a little hurt I’ll fix it and give you a special grandmother healing hug."

*****

Several years later, when the little boy had grown tall and skinny, he was called to his grandmother’s bedside. She lay in her bed, pale and drawn.  The little boy, now a tall teenager, sat carefully beside her on the bed.  Quietly he whispered:  “Grandmother, I’ve come to see you and have something for you.”  

Clouded eyes turned to see him, her tired weak voice asked  “What is it my child?” He bent over her, tears sliding down his cheeks as he said, "I can’t fix you, but I can give you a healing hug."  His long arms wrapped around his precious frail grandmother as he said good-bye.

His grandmother's low voice trailed away in whisper  "My child, I can die in peace, knowing that my heart has been healed by your love."

“Our sorrows and wounds are healed only 

when we touch them with compassion.”

~ Buddha

Inspiration

Inspire yourself - what a task!

That means I need to

look in the mirror

literally and figuratively.

Then look around me to see

personal touches 

in my home

in my workplace 

that speak of my preferences.

The little pieces of inspiration that dart from my consciousness 

without being forced by someone else ~

Colour

Texture

Light and

Sound

Inspiration - 

Definitions range from 

the physical to the spiritual

but the one that makes the most sense to me is

the drawing in of breath.

Inspiration is not an act of aloneness

but an act of drawing in of the

world and all it holds for us.

All colours and shades of

beauty

ugliness

sadness

joy

Taking that inspired ‘breath’ of spirit

shades and colours each action

that becomes our work of life.

So back to the beginning - 

Inspire yourself - not really a task at all

but merely the breathe of life.

The task is in 

sorting through the dark from the light

setting it down with 

pen and paper, 

paint and canvas

and feeling joy in the task of creativity.

“It’s not the load that breaks you down,

it’s the way you carry it.”

~ Lou Holtz

A Date

A Date

Walking with purpose, briskly and with a good pace, I was ready for a nice long walk. “Stride out” called to me from a memory of a much older friend. It was mid week, bird song was overcome with busy city noise and it had not been misting quite enough to be bothersome. The skies were clearing slowly.

Darn, there was someone else on the sidewalk ahead of me.  Annoyance flickered, but was quickly snuffed out when I saw that there was at least enough room to pass without slowing down.  The old guy was so very slow!  Couldn’t he pick another day to stroll! 

His umbrella, at an odd angle, had barely enough tilt to cover his hatless head. Closer now, I could see strands of a thin grey comb over sliding from a shiny pink scalp.  It gave a slightly messy look to this gentleman.  His long khaki trench coat, looking far too big for him, should have been on a taller, heavier man.  Maybe he grabbed his son’s coat on the way out the door? Didn’t he have one that fit him any better?  Closer now, he seemed to be pushing some kind of a cart.

A few paces nearer and I saw a very elderly gentleman, slowly pushing a very smart black walker, the umbrella set into a fitting on the frame. He reached for his ear, adjusting a hearing aid, deep in conversation with himself.  

As I slowed my own pace and walked carefully past, I realized that he was speaking on a phone. It wasn’t a hearing aid at all!  He had a date! 'Mildred, this is Guy. I'll meet you at the library. Have you left home yet?'

Guy's walker needed closer inspection. On the front, he had a rather worn looking, black leather brief case. A rolled up newspaper prevented the briefcase from closing.  A silver thermos, tucked snugly in a carrying case, was fastened to one side of the walker.  I suspected lunch, and two coffee mugs, was inside the briefcase!

He raised his head as I passed, gave me a wink from clear blue eyes and nodded briskly all while continuing his conversation and his 'stroll' down the windy street.

“Everything you can imagine is real.”

~ Pablo Picasso

Challenge with No Outcome - A Dream

Challenge with No Outcome - 

A Dream

A great ball of gold settled behind massive banks of clouds. Rain poured down, glistening sidewalks and streets. Gold, green, and red street lights changed and flashed on a west coast winter night splashing watery reflections through puddles like laughing children at play. 

This very wide street was in an old part of town with a railway line where the center white line should have been.  On one side of this odd street, only one lean-to like shop with an open front, was open. The shop’s bright lights seeped into the misty night air. Glittering costume jewelry, colourful silk scarfs, woolen blankets and odd shaped hats dangled and lay in piles on hooks and tables. It was a shop for tourists on this road coming from nowhere and going off into the unknown. 

A brief browse through the shop, then I turned out into the dark wet night. Outside, I pulled my collar up against fingers of cold mist and stepped into the street just as a freight train screamed in the distance of my dream. I staggered suddenly and fell to my knees. 

Unable to get up, I knew I had to cross the road and railway tracks, so began to crawl. It felt like I was crawling through cold molasses, my limbs uncooperative and stiff. I reached the other side just as the train whistled by me. The wind of the train blew past me and pushed me to my feet. Tripping, I lurched forward onto a shabby porch of an old wood-frame house. Crossing the threshold, I entered without knocking. No one was seen or heard, but a warm glow came from the living room. I climbed a flight of twisting stairs, holding tight to the balustrade. At the top, only a bathroom, poorly appointed, with water dripping in the tub greeted me. Still there was no one to be seen or heard. Other rooms, if they were there, were only dreamy cloud shreds.

My dream, for I awakened then, left me with mixed feelings. Unsure of the dream’s meaning, I was definitely grateful for having made it across those railway tracks!

“Dreams are excursions into the limbo of things, 

a semi-deliverance from the human prison.”

~ Henri-Frederic-Amiel