Divine intervention

A big lesson learned today.

"Divine detachment is when the lower self steps away from the drama it has created and allows the higher self to observe and comment upon it, clearly and without emotion; honestly and without hesitation; completely and without reservation"

"You will know when this process is working for you because there will be no negativity, no judgment, no anger, no shame, no guilt, no fear, no recrimination or sense of being made wrong-just a simple statement of what is SO. And that statement may be very illuminating"

Wow,

Those quotes came from Neale Donald Walsh in Conversations with God. Today the portal to my higher self is once again thrown wide. Inspiration comes from everything when you are open to receiving it. Today at the incredible church I attend the message in meditation, in music and in the "sermon" spoke deeply to me. My interpretation of it was to embrace the unknown and trust in God.

I know this deeply, but the wounds I created on my heart cut deeply and had me wallow in self pity and anger. She is easily to blame for stepping outside our bond of trust but so am I for creating the conditions to foment the actions. Neither of us is right. There really, in the big picture, is no right and wrong in such a situation. It's all an opportunity for the growth of the soul. I've been operating from the Id, my base human response.

Today because of sparks of divine inspiration in human form I could see and feel and touch my humanity, accept it and reembrace my divine self. Thank you all that is, thanks to all you angels on earth. Love ya all :)

Neil

Life

It's easy to feel you are alone. You are not. You are part of bigger things.

So lost and cutoff alone, you are not. The only thing that makes the eventual emptiness of life bearable is each other. Reach out and touch someone. Take small moves and big things happen.

Todays news

What is it about my industry, television, that has to pander and gravitate to the lowest common denominator in our society? We have crap on tv, crap on the radio, crap in the paper. What has me worked up is the fear, the pain, the envy, the jealousy that the media seeks to instill in the viewer

Why can't we bring about change through reporting the truth. Why can't we have shows that lift up all that it is to be human. Why can't we do more to lend a hand to one another. I was in a place of disgust until I read a couple random bloggers whose writing made a difference and lifted me up. Go out and lift someone up today. I'll join you. . . . .

Gel Wristbands make a difference

Greetings.

I've been wearing that rubber wristband. You know . . you've seen various shades of the rainbow on peoples wrists. Some yellow, some blue, some pink and the one I wear is purple. They're meant to support or keep you mindful of different things.

The pink wristband is made by the Breast Cancer Society.

They provide information, care and advice to anyone in the US who is affected by breast cancer. They help more than one million people every year.

The pink band has the words 'support, knowledge, strength' written on it, which reflects what the charity is about.

The yellow Livestrong wristband was set up by American cyclist Lance Armstrong to increase awareness of cancer.

The cyclist was diagnosed with testicular cancer that had spread to his lungs and brain when he was 25.

After chemotherapy he went on to win the 1999 Tour de France and has won it six years in a row.

Profits from the sales of the yellow bands go to the Lance Armstrong Foundation that helps young people with cancer and their families cope with the illness.

The white band comes in a variety of different rubber and fabric designs and is about bringing an end to world poverty.

The band's message says 'Make Poverty History' and the idea is that by wearing a white band, either round your wrist, arm or as a shoelace, you're supporting the campaign.

The bands can be bought from various charities, but they also suggest people make their own, as it is more about encouraging rich governments to drop the debt poor countries owe them, rather than raising money.

There are many others but the one that I've been wearing is purple.

The basic idea is to go 21 days without complaining. It takes 21 days to create new neuro-pathways in our brain and through holding back gossip, sarcasm, and criticism it is possible to shift our outlook onto only the positive. When you catch yourself doing any of the above you are to shift your wristband to the other wrist and start over on your walk to 21 days.

The longest I've gone is 3 days. I'm definitely becoming a lot more mindful and less reactionary.This movement began with a front page article that ran in the Kansas City Star and was then published in newspapers all over the nation. Participants in the "Complaint-Free" movement wear purple bracelets that say spirit. Rev. Will Bowen, the leading proponent of the "Complaint-Free" Movement has appeared on The Oprah Winfrey Show in 2007. Over 2 million purple bracelets have been distributed to people so inspired by this idea.

If you're interested in finding more go to the link below.

Unity church

Enjoy the journey

I've never seen a better Dad

If you're able to watch videos on your computer you NEED to see the one below. It brought me to tears at the immense love a parent can have for a child. I pray I'm half the Father this man below is for his son.

[From Sports Illustrated, By Rick Reilly]

I try to be a good father. Give my kids mulligans. Work nights to pay For their text messaging. Take them to swimsuit shoots.

But compared with Dick Hoyt, I suck.

Eighty-five times he's pushed his disabled son, Rick, 26.2 miles in Marathons. Eight times he's not only pushed him 26.2 miles in a Wheelchair but also towed him 2.4 miles in a dinghy while swimming and Pedaled him 112 miles in a seat on the handlebars--all in the same day.

Dick's also pulled him cross-country skiing, taken him on his back Mountain climbing and once hauled him across the U.S. On a bike. Makes Taking your son bowling look a little lame, right?

And what has Rick done for his father? Not much--except save his life.
This love story began in Winchester , Mass. , 43 years ago, when Rick Was strangled by the umbilical cord during birth, leaving him Brain-damaged and unable to control his limbs.

"He'll be a vegetable the rest of his life;'' Dick says doctors told him And his wife, Judy, when Rick was nine months old. ``Put him in an Institution.''

But the Hoyts weren't buying it. They noticed the way Rick's eyes Followed them around the room. When Rick was 11 they took him to the Engineering department at Tufts University and asked if there was Anything to help the boy communicate. ``No way,'' Dick says he was told. ``There's nothing going on in his brain.''

"Tell him a joke,'' Dick countered. They did. Rick laughed. Turns out a Lot was going on in his brain. Rigged up with a computer that allowed Him to control the cursor by touching a switch with the side of his Head, Rick was finally able to communicate. First words? ``Go Bruins!'' And after a high school classmate was paralyzed in an accident and the School organized a charity run for him, Rick pecked out, ``Dad, I want To do that.''

Yeah, right. How was Dick, a self-described ``porker'' who never ran More than a mile at a time, going to push his son five miles? Still, he Tried. ``Then it was me who was handicapped,'' Dick says. ``I was sore For two weeks.''

That day changed Rick's life. ``Dad,'' he typed, ``when we were running, It felt like I wasn't disabled anymore!''

And that sentence changed Dick's life. He became obsessed with giving Rick that feeling as often as he could. He got into such hard-belly Shape that he and Rick were ready to try the 1979 Boston Marathon.

``No way,'' Dick was told by a race official. The Hoyts weren't quite a Single runner, and they weren't quite a wheelchair competitor. For a few Years Dick and Rick just joined the massive field and ran anyway, then They found a way to get into the race Officially: In 1983 they ran another marathon so fast they made the Qualifying time for Boston the following year.

Then somebody said, ``Hey, Dick, why not a triathlon?''

How's a guy who never learned to swim and hadn't ridden a bike since he Was six going to haul his 110-pound kid through a triathlon? Still, Dick Tried.

Now they've done 212 triathlons, including four grueling 15-hour Ironmans in Hawaii . It must be a buzzkill to be a 25-year-old stud Getting passed by an old guy towing a grown man in a dinghy, don't you Think?

Hey, Dick, why not see how you'd do on your own? ``No way,'' he says. Dick does it purely for ``the awesome feeling'' he gets seeing Rick with A cantaloupe smile as they run, swim and ride together.

This year, at ages 65 and 43, Dick and Rick finished their 24th Boston Marathon, in 5,083rd place out of more than 20,000 starters. Their best Time? Two hours, 40 minutes in 1992--only 35 minutes off the world Record, which, in case you don't keep track of these things, happens to Be held by a guy who was not pushing another man in a wheelchair at the Time.

``No question about it,'' Rick types. ``My dad is the Father of the Century.''

And Dick got something else out of all this too. Two years ago he had a Mild heart attack during a race. Doctors found that one of his arteries Was 95% clogged. ``If you hadn't been in such great shape,'' One doctor told him, ``you probably would've died 15 years ago.'' So, in a way, Dick and Rick saved each other's life.

Rick, who has his own apartment (he gets home care) and works in Boston, and Dick, retired from the military and living in Holland, Mass. , always find ways to be together. They give speeches around the country and compete in some backbreaking race every weekend, including this Father's Day.

That night, Rick will buy his dad dinner, but the thing he really wants to give him is a gift he can never buy.

``The thing I'd most like,'' Rick types, ``is that my dad sit in the chair and I push him once.''

And the video is below...

Rain memories

Rain travels time
bringing memories of bus stops
staring in bored fascination as trails slide down panes

bundled papers in the rain
clapboardtree street taken one step at a time
the poignant smell of wet paper pulls me through the portal

walking the streets to the steady drum on my slicker
each step an affirmation of worth, dedication and money
the paper thrown, slides along gravel resting til coffee scents envelope

waiting patiently as the surface swirls and recedes, the cane woven seat
pressing in to my flesh as I cast again,
rain often chases the bites but sometimes encourages,
my Dad teaches patience and I cast again

laying on my back the must of canvas around me, Greenfield, wet pine
trails taken by bike, both wet and dry, it matters not
two weeks one Summer, of bliss, abandon, no worries just life

the rain reminds, releases the scents which release the memories

I love the rain

Choosing Inner Peace

I was maniacally driving down the road when it struck me. . . There is no meaning of life, there is no place to get to, you are just where you are and where you are is perfect.

These thoughts hit me in the beginning of a crazy day.

It had started with my lovely wife choosing to let me sleep in, but on a day when I could ill afford the extra winks. She had gone on to work and I was rising up from deep dreams to the oh so familiar, "Mom, Dad, is it morning-time?" I glanced at the clock and it was 7:40. Sh#*, I was running late, I had to get my son dressed, fed, to school and me to work, in time to be at a video shoot by 9am. This is not good.

I frantically jumped out of bed running to my son Eli's room, tripping over his container of hot wheels and like a whirling dervish flew around his room grabbing underwear, pants, t-shirts, socks, and his oh so important Converse Hi-tops. My patience was at an all-time low and the looming deadline was driving me, making me short-tempered.

"Dad, these socks feel funny, I'm hungry, I want the Spiderman shirt."

Coming rapid fire his protests and assertions thwarted my every effort to make him go faster.

Isn't it funny our cute little bundles of love, our angels who could do no wrong, know exactly when we need them to pick up the pace, and at these times they occur to us as purposefully thwarting our every move?

I try to be a good person, to elevate my emotions and take the higher path yet I judge, evaluate, denigrate, instigate, and spend a lot of time not being who I say I am. I say I am a spiritual, considerate human being, but I catch myself cussing at people who seemingly cut me off. I lose my temper just because my son dare have an opinion on what t-shirt he wants to wear. I have no patience.

However, today I caught myself and shifted the mood to one of understanding. I allowed myself to let go, be late, lose my agenda and just go with the flow. When someone cut me off and I had to hit the brakes I just waved them onward understanding, knowing that that is what was supposed to be. Why allow it to alter my body chemistry, filling me with adrenaline as I yell or cuss inwardly.

As we drove toward school my son in the backseat, staring intently out the window at passing interests, looked so smart, so old, no longer the little baby I rocked and dipped only 4 years ago. He caught me looking at him in the rearview mirror and flashed me a warm smile. I smiled back and then said, "Buddy, I'm sorry I was so grumpy and impatient with you this morning." He looked straight at me and replied, "That's ok Dad, I wasn't being very good either." "Let's make a deal," I said, "If either of us is grumpy in the morning again, let's remind each other that there is no hurry and there's really nowhere to get to." He kind of looked at me with the kind of look only a 5 year old can produce. A little puzzled but all-knowing at the same time. "OK Dad, let's do that." Another round of warm smiles and on with our trip to school.

Today is the moment, the moment to appreciate, the moment to act. So give up the agenda, smile and realize that our place on earth is one to show love, patience and understanding but most of all love.

Finding Peace of Mind

THE PARABLE OF THE ROPE

We are like a person holding on to a piece of rope.

He holds on for dear life, knowing that if he were to let go he would fall to his death. His parents, his teachers, and many others have told him this is so; and when he looks around he can see everyone else doing the same.

Nothing would induce him to let go.

Along comes a wise person. She knows that holding on is unnecessary, that the security it offers is illusory, and only holds you where you are. So she looks for a way to dispel his illusions and help him to be free.

She talks of real security, of deeper joy, of true happiness, of peace of mind. She tells him that he can taste this if he will just release one fi
nger from the rope.

"One finger," thinks the man; "that"s not too much to risk for a taste of bliss." So he agrees to take this first initiation.

And he does taste greater joy, happiness, and peace of mind.

But not enough to bring lasting fulfillment.

"Even greater joy, happiness and peace can be yours," she tells him, "if you will just release a second finger."

"This," he tells himself, "is going to be more difficult. Can I do it? Will it be safe? Do I have the courage?" He hesitates, then, flexing his finger, feels how it would be to let go a little more . . . and takes the risk.

He is relieved to find he does not fall; instead he discovers greater happiness and inner peace.

But could more be possible?

"Trust me," she says. "Have I failed you so far? I know your fears, I know what your mind is telling you -- that this is crazy, that it goes against everything you have ever learnt -- but please, trust me. Look at me, am I not free? I promise you will be safe, and you will know even greater happiness and contentment."

"Do I really want happiness and inner peace so much," he wonders, "that I am prepared to risk all that I hold dear? In principle, yes; but can I be sure that I will be safe, that I will not fall?" With a little coaxing he begins to look at his fears, to consider their basis, and to explore what it is he really wants. Slowly he feels his fingers soften and relax. He knows he can do it. And he knows he must do it. It is only a matter of time until he releases his grip.

And as he does an even greater sense of peace flows through him.

He is now hanging by one finger. Reason tells him he should have fallen a finger or two ago, but he hasn"t. "Is there something wrong with holding on itself?" he asks himself. "Have I been wrong all the time?"

"This one is up to you," she says. "I can help you no further. Just remember that all your fears are groundless."

Trusting his quiet inner voice, he gradually releases the last finger.

And nothing happens.

He stays exactly where he is.

Then he realizes why. He has been standing on the ground all along.

And as he looks at the ground, knowing he need never hold on again, he finds true peace of mind.

Breathe and Live

Look at the sky and see your future
Look at the ground and see the everpresent now
Look to the water and see the peace that shall envelope you

What is your focus today, right now, this very breath?
Take that breath and let it out, let your body drive you forward
to now.

And now what have you decided to do. Take that breath, feel it course
your veins, fill your brain with life giving energy, a vehicle for your
very soul.

Your soul.
Your soul residing in that gift of life. A chance to narrow the
incredible, broad swath of vision. An opportunity to ride the wave of life
through the narrows. The narrows, the rapids, the challenge of working on
what you don't want to work on.

The funny thing is it isn't really work, it's just letting go.

Let go, breathe, think, create and act.

What do You live for?

I sat outside my sons school waiting to pick him up. It gave me time to wonder on just what I live for. What do I do in life that will add to the legacy of humankind?

It's simple . . .

It's a smile at anyone who looks up.

It's a pat on the back to a friend or coworker.

My twice weekly 3am walks to my son's bedroom to assure him all is right with the world.

It's a sincere thanks to the kind folks at the drive-through who handle my order.

It's a quarter in the toy machine as we exit the grocery store.

It's a backrub for my love even when I want to sleep.

I will never be president, I most likely won't personally instigate peace in the middle east. However I can create a ripple that will rise like a tsunami and touch people all over the world. I will and I do, each day make a difference in the lives of the people I touch. You do the same. Let's make waves together.

My son's 1st day at Kindergarten

The day comes and off he goes. Though he's been in preschool for 2 1/2 years he's a mix of excitement and apprehension. Clinging alternately to Dad's leg, then Mom's, he lets go and joins a new classmate to build with legos. Moments earlier wiping his eyes to hide the tears, he gives nary a glance and jumps in to life. I love my Son!

Mainstream is questioning 9/11

Lou Dobbs Wakes Up to 9/11 Lies


See how the mainstream is beginning to question the story of 911. This is very surprising to me.
The fact that this kind of information is rising to the surface makes me wonder what lies below the murky waters.

Cost of War in Iraq - Thanks George and Company!

Death,
Hatred,
Worldwide Animosity,
Trauma,
Anger,
Sadness,
Pain,
Injury,
Least of All, A lot of Money

Here and Now

No matter what happens it'll all be fine. Everything that has happened to you up to this point in your life is exactly what is supposed to have happened.

The here and now is the destination in which you are meant to be. You move through this world, eating, sleeping, working and playing doing the same thing day in and day out. It's perfect. You are perfect. It couldn't get any better.

Life is a great orchestration. An orchestration specifically for you, with your story playing full out. You, along with billions of others each have the privilige of experiencing the perfect life for what you came upon this planet to learn.

Life has led you to the inevitable meeting of Here and Now. It's in this Here and Now that you have the power of choice, creation, communication and action. Grab hold of the power of the Here and Now and move the world . . . .

The time is Now.

Getting ready for changes

What is going on in this world? I'm driving to work this morning and punch the buttons on my radio and keep getting violence, depression, depraved disc jockeys and more . . . Where's the love?Don't get me wrong, I know there's violence in the world, that people starve and die, that we kill one another over the smallest of offenses or desires, but do we have to? Think about it. What is the answer? I don't have THE ANSWER. A lot of people are looking for someone to tell them it's ok and everything will get better. I'm here to say bullshit. It won't get better unless things take a drastic turn. And by things I mean the way you and I treat each other. Because unless I start altering the way I deal with stress and adversity it isn't going to happen.

The environment is tanking, global warming is revving up the energy in the atmosphere, the U.S dollar is soon to no longer be a standard of trade for oil, gold is rising, Greenspan is done with his high wire act of financial wizadry and the amount needed for gassing up the family Astro van is $51 dollars!! People are feeling the crunch, countries are feeling the crunch and our emotions are starting to percolate. That translates into more global conflict, more senseless murder, more hunger, more suffering, even to flipping the bird in traffic. It's possible that it will get worse. What are you going to do today? Maybe when you go to lunch you can walk a block or two instead of driving. Feel the sun on your face, the breeze through your hair. To merely exitst isn't enough. Make a small change for the better for your world, your neighbor, your environment.

Where to go from here

Today was a day that was coming for awhile but it still hurts. We had to put our cat Stevie to sleep today. Her body wasn't working anymore, she was fifteen, tired and was really ready to let go. She fought and stayed with us for an extra couple weeks. She bonded even more with our Son Eli, sleeping in his bed, laying in his lap. She said goodbye to each of us in her own special way. I wouldn't trade the last couple weeks with her for anything. I feel as if this was a signpost for the day. I feel so unsettled, like something huge is happening, or soon to happen and I'm not privy to it.

My life is flying by and I feel a passenger on the rockettrain, staring out the window as houses pass and junkyards and children in diapers and lovers in tight embrace on city brownstones. I watch and wait, afraid to act, afraid my motion of words will be lacking. Better to sit and nod, to listen, to get what is said. I work oh so hard to please but it's not enough. I wonder, am I not enough . . . I think I am enough and that unrealistic expectations get in the way in moments of life change.

To enter in to the world of mystery, the world of growth, the realm of the unknown you need to dwell in the discomfort of life. You need pain and you need suffering or you are not playing the game big enough. If life is always cozy and there is no fear, no bliss, no shame, no adulation you are just playing it safe. Life is too too precious to play it safe. Get in to the rough waters, climb that mountain, get on the court of life and play the game.

The game is up to you. Do you like the game you've been playing? If not change the game, make up new rules and win. All life is, is a fulfillment machine. Have it fulfill your dreams.

My Dad

I've been thinking about my Dad a lot lately. He died not to long ago and I've been feeling his presence . . . and the loss. You see, George Arthur Rasmussen was an incredible human being. His smile, laughter and spark could light up a room at any party or gathering. He would take a room by stealth. Not in a sneaky way but in order to not barge in or take over. He'd sidle up to his friends and engage them in a conversation about the correct way to approach wary trout, or the strategy in racing sailboats and then the conversation would turn to current events or his love of the written/spoken word. By the end of the night he would be belting out a rendition of "Everything's Up to Date in Kansas City" with a merry Balantine Ale induced glint in his eye. He lit up the room.

He also lit up my heart, with love, respect and admiration. Don't get me wrong, My Dad was no saint! He could cuss with the best of them. I remember numerous times, lying on the ground under our '69 tan Volkswagen bus helping him with one of a number of repairs and hearing him cuss as he banged his knuckles when a reluctant bolt suddenly gave way under the strain of a sweat covered wrench. I learned some of my best material back then. Material I wouldn't dare to use until much later in life. There are so many trips, so many kind words, so many lessons, so many memories

Some of my favorite memories of my Dad are the time we spent in nature. My heart still yearns for those times. Canoe Trips on the Saco River in Maine where Mark , Dad and I crossed Lovell pond in high winds with Dan and Chip Stockford. Tipping over during a cold Fall trip in Walkers Rip. Camping in Greenfield New Hampshire where, while fishing, I managed to hook my eyebrow. Dad paddled determinedly across the lake, carried me uphill to the car and then the hospital. However I think my favorite times with Dad were spent Sailing in Boston Harbor.

I learned to trust myself when sailing like I never had before; harnessing the winds and learning new skills. My Dad taught me and then gave me the freedom to read charts and plot our course, trusting me to find safe passage through Boston Harbors treachorous rocks and currents. Often the middle of our journey would be George's Island. It was the site of a fort that had spread out over 30 acres. When we got there Mark and I would row our dinghy to shore and explore the secret ruins from the early 1800's. I can still smell the wet dank air amidst the cool dripping stones as we explored the cavernous tunnels under the gun emplacements. Hours later, Mark and I would row back to Dad who often stayed aboard the boat to record the sounds of gulls and buoys and his explorers as they returned with stories to tell.

I can still feel the wind in my hair and just being . . . just being with Dad as we tacked in a stiff breeze back and forth across the channel. Sometimes, when there was a fair wind, we'd sail out to the outer Brewster islands far out in the harbor's entrance to circle the Boston Harbor Lighthouse. Then, we'd return 'round Peddock's island on the home stretch for our mooring. He with his pipe belching the sweet scent of Amphora Brown, Mark soaking the sun and I with my hand on the tiller searching the foaming green sea for any tell of what lay below. Yet I think I was secretly searching for, out the side of my eye, was Dad's nod of approval as sails were trimmed and waves were quartered . . . He was quick to nod. We would smile at the sweet touch of the wind on our faces and revel in the silence of being . . . being with the wind, being with the boat, being with each other.

















Lawrence Journal World Obituary
Elon College Obit

Happiness is a Journey

I was running up the trail feverishly determined. I had to get to the top of the mountain. I was slapped time and again in the face by branches trying to waylay me, slow me down but I pressed on. It was there at the top, I knew it was. The pine scented trail did not distract me, the cold rushing stream was forded effortlessly, it was at the top and I needed it and I wouldn't be distracted. I got to the top, breathless, panicked, in total fear of having lost what I was looking for. All that was there was an old man laughing at me and telling me to go back and walk this time. (A recent dream)

Getting that first car, first big job, first girlfriend, first child, first, first, first. It all has been fun but I get more and more that the fun is in what it takes to get there and not the getting. When my focus lies outside of the journey and is targeted on the acquisition of something, then the journey is diminished or more accurately put, obscured. The journey is still full of lessons, joy, pain, and teachings but with the eye on the prize its importance becomes secondary.

I really believe that all around us, every single day, the journey is teaching us and we are adding to the teaching of others. That teaching is happiness, it is love and sometimes pain. I can think back on all the moments of my life I was centered in the journey and that is when I was happiest, that is when I knew I was on the path to growth. When you are centered in the moment of the journey, squeezing out all the wonder it imparts, then life becomes crystal clear.

Life isn't full of obstacles blocking the way to the real thing. The obstacles are your life and part of your journey and something that should be embraced and considered. Like the branches in my dream they are often telling you to slow down and look around you, take in all that this life is teaching you.

The journeys in life that have moved me the most, touched me, made me grow, have always been with people. A deep conversation, a warmly held hand, an obstacle surmounted with a friends help, even a simple smile from a stranger, have all changed me deeply as a person. Thanks for being a part of each others journey. May our paths cross often.

Turn the other cheek

Recently I have been challenged by anger, pride and the desire for revenge. I imagined all the ways I could get revenge. All the favors, friends and lawyers that I know who could come thunderously smashing down. If I put the wheels in motion it would happen. But could I live with myself? Granted it seemed ill will was directed our way but . . .

It is so hard to turn the other cheek. You know, when someone does something that hurts you, that makes you angry, that makes you question motives or intent. It goes against every primordial cell in our being. In todays society it's seen as supine cowardice. Rolling over and exposing the underbelly. I see it as opening up to Gods will, to trusting in God. Turning the other cheek is forgiveness; A knowing of sorts that you are being given a lesson by God and justwhat am I going to do with that lesson?

To turn the other cheek is to trust in God. To turn the other cheek is to go beyond what is expected. The other person expects us to retaliate but instead we wish the other person well. We strive to act like "chips off the old block" -- like our father in heaven. He forgives and provides out of his goodness and so must we. He has mercy and wishes well and so should we. As we interact with other people in light of the Gospel, we begin to learn that we are no more or no less worthy of God's love than our fellow human beings. We being to understand that we are all children of God. As we work out the implications of the Gospel in our everyday lives we learn to appreciate how far love must go beyond what is expected.

What did I choose? I chose to turn the other cheek. To rise above my primordial self and seek the light of God. To trust in God and and continue to whittle away at my need to be right, the need to dominate. I meditated and powerfully chose to forgive and love.

In the meantime I seek to know God, know myself, and know my neighbor. . . and continue being . . . just being.

Stop it! Do it!

What are you doing with your life? I mean really, what difference are you going to make today? This is the moment to make a decision. Stop playing games. Stop thinking that tomorrow is the day you will make a difference. Because tomorrow comes and you don't act, you don't move, you sit in front of the computer, the TV, and get "stoned" on supposed reality TV.

I think that for a lot of people life is a narcotic that lulls you into a dazed existence. Numbly going from sleep to shower, to car, to work, to home, to xbox, to tv, to computer and to sleep. Of course there are a few moments during any given week that you truly feel connected. Maybe your favorite team wins the big game or your loved one truly touches you, or you somehow make a difference in someone's life. But generally the way our life is constructed in this day an age we do our best to not feel. We are stunned by the way our "adult" life has turned out. You know that feeling, "Is that all there is?"

What was the best time in your life? Was it when you were a kid with nothing to do but play and eat, taken care of by a loving family; was it in High School when you had oh so many friends and life came easy and you were the star of the photo club, the football team, the art club or some other place that helped identify who you are today. Was it when you got your first car, first girl, first house first first first..... I know that I often live in the thought that life will get better when I get . . . when I become . . . when when when when. All of this thinking is no good for me. It causes my very being to be present in a future that hasn't even happened yet. Not only that, it makes me look at my life now and not be happy and look for that happiness when and if I get that car, that house, that wife. It doesn't work for me anymore. I live in the moment and when I live into my future I do so with a goal, or a possibility in mind. Such as, I live in the possibility of being courageously self-expressed and a leader in action now. So living in that possibility I create my future from that.

on another note:

I love to look into my beloveds eyes. They so much reflect how I feel about myself, my family and my world. Truly, reality is mirrored in the perceptions of the people around you. How could that possibly be?
When you go inside your head, you know, the place where you constantly have a voice whispering, usually yelling, about the many things you still need to do or the many things that you have done wrong. That place is reflective of your skewed perceptions. The perceptions that you are always right, and they are always wrong. Or, that you can never be good enough; or that you will never make a difference; or that you will never be lovable. That voice indulges your fantasies and your fears. It's all misperceptions.

When you look out into the world you are seeing a reflection of everything that makes up who you are. Not only that but it also more accurately reflects who you are and how you affect the world. It's through your speaking that you affect those perceptions and that reality. So find your voice, speak up and speak out. Declare what you believe in, and call forth a new and more powerful reality. You are incredible! There is so much more to think, feel and do. So just do it!