Painting out the Decade...

Most people spend Christmas Eve either going to church, traveling to see far-off family members, or decorating cookies for Santa Claus’ visit. This year, I spent it painting.

It’s been 8 years since the walls of our home have been painted properly, and in those 8 years, we’ve seen our share of bumps & bruises, much like our walls. There was the dented corner in our upstairs loft, where my son first got introduced to the wonder that is scalp staples. Then there’s the pillar by the stairs, nearly black with residue from all of our hands using it for support as we zip up and down the steps. And who could forget the banged-up corners from the balls bounced for our sweet puppies?

As I watched the paintbrush glide over the spackled-over nail pops and repaired edges, I couldn’t help but reflect on the years that held the events of the damage. I don’t know about you, but this past decade has been full of surprises. Some happy, some sad, some downright scary.

Take, for example, our daughter’s first broken arm shortly after we moved into the house. We barely had time to meet people before we had to ask them for references for an orthopedic surgeon!

Then the thrill of finding a gold mine of friends when our son entered elementary school. I had heard stories about moms losing themselves in PTA activities and scoffed, until I found myself right in the thick of it, and loving the new-found camaraderie of other stay-at-home moms.

That connection proved to be invaluable as my second child entered kindergarten – and I entered the oncology ward. Breast cancer wasn’t on my initial to-do list of life events, but 2002 had other ideas. A fire earlier in the year had bequeathed us the joy of redecorating, and the paint color we have is still a reminder of that rushed time of decisions. In fact, I still refer to that year as my “country music” year, since many songs of that genre talk about times of great struggle and strife. My year was infused with humor, joy, and laughter, even though our dog died, my husband lost his job, I got cancer, my daughter broke her arm for the 3rd time, and my mama broke her hip. Oh, and of course, I nearly burned our house down. Ah, good times, good times…

Painting over the residue of that year allowed me to meditate on the answers that intense soul-searching hopes to provide. Money isn’t everything as long as you have your health, but it’s pretty darn nice to have both. Happiness is a mindset, not a destination. True character is shown when faced with the loss of a cherished pet…or parent. Personal growth can be quite uncomfortable, and not just for the person doing the growing. And the bonds of love can be strengthened by the most inauspicious of events.

I’m sure that 2010 will also begin another cycle of twists and turns, better than the plot of any best-selling novel. The best part? We’re in charge of the plot! I could never have imagined the outcome of the days of 2000-2009, just as 2010-2019 are a mystery. I have set some goals for myself, but have learned to focus more on how I wish to feel, and less on the specifics of what I want to happen. My imagination is far too limited. The Universe, God, Gaia, Allah, Jehovah, Creator, or whatever name you choose to give to your guiding spiritual leader wants to give you what you ask for, anyway. It just doesn’t always show up in the form you originally asked for. The word NOT tends to be ignored, so I ask for what I want, rather than what I don’t want, or don’t have, or don’t wish to feel.

As I put the final brushstrokes on my walls, closing out the Aughts, (the O-No’s?), I found myself saying a prayer of gratitude for all of our family’s experiences from the decade. We have a blank slate. I look forward to seeing what the Teens will paint on the canvas of our lives!

Winter Solstice

The time is upon us where the nights will gradually become longer, and the daylight will thumb its nose at the preposterous notion of "savings time"...and it's time for our annual Winter Solstice celebration. This tradition began as a way to include all of our friends, several of whom are Jewish, Muslim, or simply non-Christian. Everybody can be happy about longer days, right?

And then I got the email about the family Christmas gathering from my mom.

"It is not just a winter holiday or the winter solstice as the politically correct people seem to think. How sad for the misguided, misled liberal thinkers. How I pray that the Holy Spirit would pop a light bulb of truth in their brains."

I love my family. I adore my mother. I don't agree with some of the religious or political viewpoints that my family holds, but we're still blood. So, Thanks, Mom! I really appreciate the prayers!

And, we can all appreciate the fact that we'll be able to enjoy more sunlight, minute by each precious minute. Happy Holidays, y'all!

Buddha Light

I just returned from a wonderful weekend conference at Harvard with His Holiness GrandMaster Lin Yun , leader of the 4th Stage of the Black Hat Sect of Tantric Buddhism. He is also the person responsible for bringing the more spiritual, less dogmatic type of Feng Shui that I practice to the U.S. I arrived in Boston expecting to learn a lot about "The Most Secretive of the Secretive Cures" and other arcane Feng Shui knowledge.

I left with a new respect for Buddhism in general.

Sure, I received many new tips and techniques to use on my Feng Shui appointments, but the tapestry that was woven around the lessons was rich and varied. I'm not one who is easily impressed by outward displays of reverence or flash. In fact, many of the participants turned me off by their sycophantic words of praise and adulation for Professor Lin. And even when I met him, it wasn't like there was a flash of light, angels surrounding him, or even any loud gongs sounding. It wasn't until the next day, when he gave us a glimpse of the sense of humor that lies buried in the intricacies of his native Mandarin, and his graciousness about allowing photos to be taken with him that I began to see why people are so fond of him.

I had been approaching him as a mere teacher, not the mentor that they were.

Many of the participants shed tears as the weekend drew to a close. I guess if I had been following someone around the world for 15-20 years, and now that time was nearing the end, I would be sad, too. I guess I still don't understand the devotion that comes with that type of dedication. Bands have their groupies...why not a spiritual teacher?

Some of the knowledge imparted still doesn't seem practical, but once my Western mind wraps itself around it, I'm sure I'll be able to adapt it properly to my clients' needs. All I can say is, if anyone has a really old Chinese cooking wok with a black bottom, please don't throw it away! Let me know and I'll tell you how it can serve you, all for the price of 9 red envelopes!

I took part in a special ceremony at the end of the weekend, too. While they called it "Refuge", and many actually prostrated themselved in front of Professor Lin, I perceived it as a type of blessing ceremony. The Buddhist nature of it was fascinating...so accepting of others and their belief systems...they actually stressed that they did NOT want anyone to convert to Buddhism, that the participants should keep their current belief systems. Wow! What a change to the standard Christian practice of Convert & Conquer...

I got a Chi Infusion from him, which left me energetically charged for days, too. That man has great energy! And eventually, I'll get a small golden Buddha statue, which will contain the energy of both Professor Lin and Crystal Chu, his successor.

Her Holiness Khadro Crystal Chu Rinpoche will take over teaching these Feng Shui seminars, as well as continue her work as a teacher of Buddhist philosophies around the world, once the 78-yr-old Professor chooses to retire. The fact that a woman was chosen to fill his shoes is huge...historically, women weren't even allowed to know anything about Feng Shui, let alone be the leader of a world-wide organization! She is a lovely and gracious individual, and I look forward to seeing what she will offer in her time.

I realized, too, that many of the meditations and prayers that I already say are not dissimilar to the ones presented during the weekend. The biggest difference was the vocabulary surrounding the invitation to allow the Universal Light into your heart. They simply used "Buddha Light"...but it's all Love. God's Love. Buddha's Love. Allah's Love. Sweet Spirit.

And it's all Good!

Mum Madness

Some days, I wonder just what planet I live on, but then I realize that it's just Texas. My latest foray into the unknown culture of this place began with a late-night quest for the mythical Homecoming Mum. Of course, all of the local grocery stores and Walgreens were already depleted of their allotted beribboned adornments, so I had no choice but to wait for Hobby Lobby to open the next day.

There, I was greeted by a meager assortment of baubles and bells, as well as the bases for this traditional item. I thought I had struck the jackpot when I found a pre-made one for the low, low price of...(insert choking sound here)... $45! I beat feet to Michael's, thinking that surely they would be cheaper there.

Oh, but I would be wrong. I did find a nicer pre-made one for $50, and one that was even cooler for $99, but I couldn't wrap my head around the concept of paying someone else to glue-gun and staple loads of ribbon, crappy-do ornaments, and curled ribbons onto what can only be described as an overly festooned rosette.

In fact, the last time I had seen a rosette like that was when I won Grand Champion Swine Showperson as a Senior in my own High School back in Kansas! So, why were we now pinning these things on all of the girls on their respective Homecoming weekends?

Apparently, because the bigger the Mum, the more you are loved.

And because Texans like everything big, these things have taken on ridiculous proportions. In fact, I was given an important piece of advice...put a necklace on it so it doesn't rip the girl's clothing. Yep, they're that big.

And it's not just for the girls. The boys have their own, albeit smaller, sized mum to wear on their arms. Garter belts...on steroids. Hopefully that's the only thing that's on steroids, because, after all, this is Texas and they like their football players big.

Because I'm a crafty gal when I want to be, I plunked down my $43 and took my booty home to create what I thought would be the ugliest, most gaudy piece of fluff imaginable...in other words, perfect. A surprising thing happened while wielding this glue gun, though...I began to swear like a sailor! Granted, this isn't a side of me that I like very much, and have successfully kept it under wraps for over 20 years, but this tradition is so overtly biased that I found myself struggling to not through the entire thing in the trash.

I'm all for traditions. I just find that spending upwards of $200 on an overgrown chrysanthemum is rather egregious.

I'm also very grateful that I didn't grow up with this particular tradition. As the youngest of 8 in a poor farming family, we didn't have extra money to lavish on many extras. Granted, I probably would have worked extra hours in the summer laboring in the fields to save enough to get whatever I could in order to "fit in". I did just that for many other reasons that today, seem quite trivial if I remember them at all.

It finally dawned on me that the reason for my profanity wasn't because it was hard, or because we couldn't afford it. It was because I kept thinking of all of the other girls who wouldn't be getting one. You see, I would have been one of the mum-less. I was never part of the "in crowd", which was even more exclusive in the 62-person high school of my youth.

After the contraption became a legitimate work of Texas art, I began to wonder at the stress I had just put on myself. A big part of it was because I didn't want to disappoint my son, who was really excited to give it to his girlfriend. Anytime he wants to involve me in his life, I'm there, so because this was important to him, it was important to me. The other huge piece was the sheer hypocracy of it all. After all, I constantly espouse the concept that we are all one, that what happens to a part affects the whole, and that everyone has a value that is beyond measure. Yet here I was, curling golden ribbon into ringlets so this mum would have enough bling to blind Stevie Wonder again.

I guess that goes to show you that even an enlightened individual (most of the time, anyway) gets caught up in the fever pitch of the masses, especially if it involves your children.

Flipping the Switch

There are some days when you think that all is well with the world, and what little there is that isn't working can simply be cured by a snooze in front of the TV. And then there are days when you wake up from that dozey state and the world just looks wrong.

Last night was one of those days.

I racked my brain trying to figure out why I woke up being hyper-critical of my children's action (when they truly hadn't been doing anything wrong), and why I was still extremely moody this morning when I noticed the date at the top of the newspaper: August 20th.

7 years ago, we dropped Kathryn off at her first full day of kindergarten. Then we drove to Baylor Medical Center to start the first round of my chemotherapy.

I truly thought I had addressed these emotional connections with this date through all of my various means of mental/emotional/energy/psychological work, but here I am, tears streaming down my face, emotions on my sleeve, intestines in my throat...that same heart-pounding fear coursing through my veins as if I were going to make that drive and get The Red Devil (Adriamycin) pumped into me.

I feel like a failure for allowing this to happen. AGAIN. And yet, I know that I'm not, since I'm aware enough to make this connection. And the more I allow these emotions to flow through me, the calmer I am about knowing that they won't get stuck somewhere in my tissues. I've had a great deal of pain and discomfort in my upper back area, so much so that my left hand and fingers will occasionally tingle with that pinched-nerve feeling. I haven't made time for a massage or chiropractor, so it will have to wait until Saturday, but in the meantime, I checked out my trusty "Heal Your Body" book by Louise Hay. This connects physical ailments with the metaphysical and emotional connections to them. Here's what it says about 5-T, the vertebrae where the tightness & pain begins:

Refusing to process the emotions. Dammed-up feelings, rage.

I have to accept the fact that I'm not the one controlling anything. Yes, I have great influence on how I react to situations and events, but not on the actual events. Even my own emotions are tossed around like a toy boat in a bathtub when the turbulence of deeply buried feelings bubble up from below. I guess a dam burst last night, and it's leaking out through my eyes.

The affirmation that accompanies this is also a good one to live by:

I let life flow through me. I am willing to live. All is well.

I've lost 2 people close to my own age lately from cancer, and yesterday another dear person asked me about a pea-sized lump that seems to be attached to her ribcage. She has 3 young children, and a family history to boot. You bet that unnerved me. I don't want anyone to have to deal with what I did, but at the same time, I'm powerless to stop it.

I let life flow through me. I am willing to live. All is well.

Time for Tomatoes!

At long last, I have a garden! A real one, with actual soil, not the clay stuff that came with the house. Raised beds, lovingly built by my adorable husband and filled with the black gold by the same sweet man and my increasingly buff son.

And then it sat.

And sat.

And sat.

The soil's organic matter decomposed, leaving the beds only half full. Grass began to peek around the edges of the 2x8x10 boards and tickled my feet when I walked on the pavestones placed in between the 2 large beds. My men began to fear that all of their hard work was for naught.

However, today I finally did something with them. 6 more bags of topsoil and 22 plants later, I have some green stuff sprouting from them! Because of the late date, I focused one bed on strictly ornamental flowering plants - annuals, since next spring that bed will be providing all sorts of yummy veggies. The other bed had 4 tomato plants that the greenhouse assured me would have time to produce some fruit. I also planted more basil, parsley, dill, sage, and a couple of interesting-looking pepper plants. I've never tried a fall garden, so am really looking forward to seeing how things grow. Now the next step is to get something in the corner of the yard that is also very barren. I've relocated our former patio table and chairs there, and soon will have some color to surround it. Let's just hope it won't be next year!

I feel LUCKY!!!

No, not the type of Dirty Harry "Do you feel lucky, punk?" lucky...the kind of lucky that makes one buy a lottery ticket. Even if the winning numbers are on someone else's piece of paper, it was the kind of day that made me realize what joy is out there in the world.

3 Yatzees in a single game. A 45-minute commute to downtown Dallas during morning rush hour. A shopping trip without a single argument.

Yep. It just doesn't get any better than that. Gotta love days like this! Never mind what tomorrow has in store, either. I'm embracing this feeling and lovin' every minute of it!

Backpack, be gone!

I threw away my son's backpack today. It was a nice backpack at one point in time, ready to carry the trappings of higher learning that all 8th graders need, as well as special pockets for Mp3 players, cell phones, and water bottles. However, when it finally hit the bottom of the trash can with a resounding whimper, it bore no resemblance to anything that had been loved. The shoulder harnesses had been brutally ripped from the body, merely hanging on by the proverbial thread, holes had been unceremoniously cut/gouged from the sides, taking on the anger/boredom from the 14 year old owner. Creative designs from pens and Sharpies were the only indication that it had at one point been something other than a simple receptacle, something that was valued beyond its practical use.

However, as time went on and the lessons became tediously difficult, the bag took on a new role. It was weapon, harness, pillow, stepstool, lunchbox, and secret-storer. It took everything it had to survive that last year of middle school, much like it had taken everything my son had in him to get to that last bell.

It's done. He's done, and now they can both rest easy with the knowledge that middle school is a thing of the past. High school will bring new challenges, but the new attitude will be accompanied by a brand new backpack.

Rat Park?

I somehow got on a list for Oprah's magazine, and most of the time it ends up in the electronic File 13. However, today was different. An article about how to stop self-sabotage caught my eye, and after nodding my head in agreement over how the author assisted a client through her issues, I noticed a link to something about Rat Park. I couldn't resist checking it out. Here's an excerpt from the online article:

"The term comes from a study conducted in 1981 by psychologist Bruce Alexander and colleagues. He noted that many addiction studies had something in common: The lab rats they used were locked in uncomfortable, isolating cages. Testing a hunch, Alexander gathered two groups of rats. For the first, he built a 200-square-foot rodent paradise called Rat Park. There a colony of white Wister rats found luxurious accommodations for all their favorite pastimes—mingling, mating, raising pups, writing articles for newspaper tabloids. The second group was housed in the traditional cages. Alexander offered both groups a choice of plain water or sugar water laced with morphine. Like rats in other studies, the traditionally caged animals became instant addicts. However, the residents of Rat Park tended to "just say no," avoiding the drug-treated sugar water. Even rats that were already addicted to morphine tended to lay off the hard stuff when in Rat Park. Put them back in their cages, however, and they'd stay stoned as Deadheads." (Martha Beck)

Whoa.... First thought: "How cool!" Second thought: "How Cruel!" Third thought: "Rats can write?"

How many times do we willingly cage ourselves, only to medicate our unhappiness with drugs, alcohol, excess shopping, illicit affairs, or extended stays in grad school? Who told us that there was no way out? We get to choose each day if we live in a cage or in our own version of Rat Park. I think the park sounds like a nicer place. How about you?

The experiment continues...

I did an experiment on myself a couple of months ago: I stopped eating meat. Yes, I still enjoyed my dairy and eggs, and I didn’t freak out when something was made with chicken stock, but I really wanted to see what would happen to me both physically and mentally when faced with a life sans animal flesh.

At first it was very difficult. Our family diet had become quite meat-centric, and it was very boring at the fast-food counter. I used the 6-week period called Lent in the Catholic faith tradition as my parameters, so I could keep up with my experiment easier. Here’s what happened:

- I lost weight. Well, not really that much, but my stomach wasn’t as bloated trying to keep up with the difficult digestive process that meat requires.
- I cooked more at home. After all, most vegetarian options at restaurants are limited to very cheesy offerings, and that gets boring.
- I found that I was able to be more open energetically. Meat was “dumbing down” my otherwise sensitive energy antennae.

Now that I’ve been partaking of burgers and brats again, I have noticed a couple more interesting tidbits:
- The bloat is back. In fact, I look like I’ve gained an entire size in my pants, though the scale still says the same number.
- I’ve found it more challenging to stay on top of my emotions. Hormones from the meat? Could be, or it could be the karmic load from taking the life of an unblessed animal.
- Energetically, I’ve found myself to be “dirtier”. There’s just more junk that seems to come my way, and it seems to be tougher to clear it out.

So, I’m going to take a page from my Feng Shui practice, and de-clutter my diet. Sure, the occasional chicken sandwich may still cross the road into my stomach, but I’m going to reset my default to wholesome, locally grown produce. And cheesecake. Can’t forget the cheesecake!

Moving day...

I hate packing. I have to go through every single little thing before I put it into the box, because I loathe finding junk when I'm unpacking. Thankfully I was only moving my office from one part of the house to another. The bad part is that a chain reaction was required to do so.

First, I had to clean out our loft area, or at least one side of it. That required the assistance of my children, since it was their piles of junk that had clogged the energetic artery. Next, the requisite disagreement over where to place the desk. I compromised by putting a temporary desk arrangement downstairs in the front of the house so if I didn't keep it neat, the office furniture would be waiting for me upstairs. Finally, now that the behemoth desk is sitting vacant in the loft, freeing up the game room, we can take the remainder of the cash from the sale of our wooden fort and purchase a cool pool table/air hocky game! I'm eager to give the kids their game room, even though it means moving our nice big 50" plasma upstairs.

Moving anything stirs up a lot of stuff. I'm not just talking about dust bunnies, either. There are a lot of emotions that are attached to the things that need to be tossed. When you let go of something, it frees up your hands to receive new abundance. Maybe that's why I got 2 new clients today and the possibility of 2 more within hours of turning on my computer in the new location! I'm excited about having a space that is away from the kids, not because I don't love them, but because I love ME! I needed to find a spot in the house that wasn't predicated on practicality, but rather something that focused on helping me develop my personality as a writer.

I realized that I couldn't write while sitting in my loft. It's just not grounded enough for me to feel safe to let my ideas really flow. It's unfortunate that we have a glorious space for a big desk and room to spread out lots of files there, but if I spend too much time there, I begin to feel spacey, nauseous, and disoriented. Perhaps I'm too sensitive, or too stubborn to admit that it could work, but right now, I'm thrilled that I am sitting in the Skills & Knowledge section of my home, knowing that this will enable me to find the resources I need to begin work on my books.

First, though...a new chair. This one isn't very comfortable. And to think that I used to believe that my bottom already had enough cushion! Could this be an excuse to eat more cheesecake? Perhaps! :-)

Fear-inducing oinks...

OK, I've had enough. It's only day 4 or so of the swine flu hysteria, and the panic in the 'burbs is spreading like wildfire. Never mind the fact that there have been ZERO cases of the illness in the neighboring counties. Never mind the fact that people who get sick recover (yeah, there have been a couple of deaths, but not enough to warrant this reaction), and never mind that hand sanitizer is anti-BACTERIAL and has no impact on a VIRUS!!

I refuse to buy into the sensation that is being created over this. Yes, if you have a serious underlying health condition, then please take all necessary precautions. However, it seems ridiculous to me to cancel all UIL athletic and academic competitions and many other extracurricular activities just on the mere HINT of a sneeze. That's like cutting off your toe in case you might stub it, or getting both breasts removed simply because someone in another city got a positive result for cancer. Oh, wait, there are those who do that, too... At any rate, it's a move that is out of proportion with the threat. Of course, this is just my opinion.

On the other hand, much of a person's reaction to this event depends on their own personal filter. My husband has the opposite reaction to all of these measures, and my daughter is on the fence. Both have recently finished reading books on the Plague and the yellow fever epidemic of 1793, so the horror of an epidemic/pandemic is still fresh in their minds. Avoiding public places and following the advice of the CDC is not a bad thing, but it's unfortunate that everyone is freaking out. I liken it to the whole terrorism color-coding alert system. After a while, you just tune it out.

My Louise Hay book, "Heal Your Body", correlates physical illnesses with likely mental causes, and here's what she has to say about influenza:

Probable Cause: Response to mass negativity and beliefs. Fear. Belief in statistics.

New Thought Pattern: I am beyond group beliefs or the calendar. I am free from all congestion and influence.

I plan on saying that positive affirmation on a daily basis until this "crisis" is over. That, and washing my hands.

Mission Accomplished!

Hurray! The wedding went off without a hitch, I'm grateful to say. Well, other than the fact that I forgot to tell the guests to sit down after my brother & sister-in-law gave their blessing to my niece....but thankfully the maid of honor whispered in my ear that they were still standing. So, everyone got to stand while they recited their vows, oh well... :-)

I still find it hard to believe that I married a couple. The fact that it was my niece who has had to deal with the direct comparison to me all of her life made it all the more special. In fact, the whole event was magical. It started on time, no one in the bridal party fainted, and even the last-minute change of the sand ceremony by the high winds made the whole thing just perfect. Instead of the two glasses of sand standing on a small table up front, the wind forced them to be presented to the happy couple by the bride's parents. Yeah, I could absolutely get used to the energy rush of pure joy from everyone at the ceremony... Still, a sage bit of advice from another minister friend comparing the officiant to a piece of furniture gave me new perspective on my role, and it also took all of the pressure off. Thanks, Ellen!

My aunt was able to attend with her ailing husband, too. They made the Herculean effort to drive from LaCrosse, KS, all the way to Denton. Justin has been battling severe diabetes for decades, and is usually confined to a wheelchair, unless he's back in the hospital for various complications of the disease. The stars aligned for this event, though, and he had enough energy to actually get up out of the chair and dance for several songs! The ecstacy and wonder in his children's faces was equaled only by the unabashed joy and gratitude on his wife's face. Justin wore a grin from ear to ear all night long...poetry, pure poetry! It was the completion of a promise that Justin made to his grandson that if Mat ever got married, then he would come to his wedding. And so he did.

Perhaps I am biased, but this whole event was almost surreal in the blending of families, the ease of old friends reconnecting, and the nearly seamless transitions from pre-wedding jitters to post-ceremony joy. Yeah, I got to stand up front and say some words, but this had a truly blessed feel to the entire day that could only come from the Creator.

Yeah, I do still sound like a bliss bunny, I know, but it really was that cool! Guess some of that may stem from the feeling that my husband and I renewed our vows by proxy, and by being able to dance the night away myself, and by having both of my children tell me several times that I did good, but regardless, I think I'll hold onto this feeling for a long time. It's a keeper!

Breathing lessons

I woke up this morning in a state of panic. Well, not panic, per se, but the unceasing constriction of anxiety that precedes taking a step that is so far out of your comfort zone that it is nearly inconceivable to the imagination. You see, I’m about to perform a wedding for my beloved niece and her fiance. The only certification that I have is an on-line ordination from The Universal Life Church, which I got about a year ago to legally protect me during my hands-on energy clearing/coaching sessions. Of course, being happily married to the same man for nearly 18 years helps me to understand the intimate nature and gravity of the situation, but standing up in front of up to 150 people to legally, if not spiritually, sanctify the union of a loving couple? Yeah, now you understand why it’s been a bit tough to breathe lately…

So I finally surrendered this morning to this feeling. I let myself feel as if I were going to disappear, and I even watched that part of me experience the worst situation I could imagine. I put that small part in a bubble with all of the disappointment, the criticism, the judgments of those present and not present, as well as all of my own fearful thoughts, and watched as the combined weight literally crushed that aspect of me. When it was all over, I felt lighter, free! It is a very uncomfortable feeling to witness this type of destruction, but I had to allow it to happen in order to let the rest of me escape the tightening noose of emotions that threatened to pull me under.

The final act of purging these inner demons came in the shower. Sea salt is a wonderful purifying agent, and I had a tub of Arbonne’s Awaken sea salt scrub. As the fragrance wafted over my olfactory glands, I impulsively grabbed a handful and began scrubbing the grit over my heart. As I worked my way around the rest of the dermal layers, I turned this simple act of cleansing my body into a meditation, saying the following words out loud:

I wash away any negativity lingering in my heart, allowing it open fully to receive God’s wisdom and guidance
I wash my arms, the symbol of the ability to hold on to those I love and to release that which no longer serves me
I wash my back, capable of bearing enormous weight with ease and grace
I wash my legs, strong enough to carry me to whatever the future holds for me, yet flexible enough to stay balanced
I wash my feet, symbols of the strong foundation of my childhood teachings and the foundation that I have created for myself
As the water washes over me, the salt cleanses me of any residual fears and negativity surrounding this event,
Awakening me to my full God-given potential.
I may be flawed, but I AM perfect just as I AM.
Thank you, Mother-Father God!

Once this act had been completed, I was finally able to take a deep breath and KNOW that all would be well, that all IS well. I may not perform the ceremony perfectly, but that’s OK. Of course, if I ever wanted to have fun with the title on the card that I received, I guess it could be a lot of fun to go around introducing myself as “Rev Bev”! Not today, though…today, I’ll just stick with Bev, and I’ll strive to be the best, perfectly flawed Bev that I can be. Namaste!

Happy Easter...and pass the meat, please!

OK, 6 weeks later, and I have broken my animal protein fast. My digestive system is still figuring it all out, but I can honestly say that I'm not in a feasting frenzy over meat. Yeah, that chicken in my Chinese Chicken Salad from The Cheesecake Factory was tasty, but it didn't add much of anything to the salad. And my bacon this morning simply tasted greasy, not delectable like I had remembered. My taste buds were simply "whelmed". Not over- or under-, just whelmed.

Yeah, it's nice to not have that as a self-imposed restriction anymore, but I'm not going out of my way to get a big slab of beef anytime soon. Too many yummy veggies out there!

Getting in touch with my inner crank...

Spending time with my children and their friends is a terrific way to make me feel old and out of touch. I find out so many new tidbits about my personality, though, that I am compelled to do so as often as they’ll let me.

For example, I never realized that I was a racist. This has become the de facto retort whenever I comment on my son’s habits and the friends that they came from. I am admittedly a grammar snob, so when I hear the English language being butchered, I’m not shy about calling attention to it. One of my biggest pet peeves is the use of “Aks” instead of “Ask”.

It was quite jarring to hear that come from my 8th grade son’s mouth. He’s a master chameleon with his language habits, word usage, and even body posture, adopting the mannerisms of whatever group he’s with at the time. Those three little letters to me sound so, well, lazy. And wrong. Does that mean I’m a racist?

According to my son, yes.

While I vehemently disagree, it does illustrate my tendency to be a major nit-picker. Proper language has been very important to me ever since my broadcasting days in college. It took me nearly a year of hard work to eliminate the “R” in “Wash”!

I can’t stand it when I hear people, men and women alike, lapse into the “Honey” or “Sweetie” routine automatically, making their voices into sugary concoctions designed to induce diabetes. I’m a regional-ist, if that is even a word, since I have a hard time taking anyone with a strong southern drawl seriously. My own father used to drive me crazy with the slow, deliberate pacing of his words. Now I realize that it wasn’t a lack of intelligence that drove his pace. He just refused to let his thoughts outrun his words, choosing them carefully in order to achieve clarity, rather than speed. Even with this pet peeve, I find that the longer I live in Texas, the more entrenched “Y’all” becomes in my daily conversations.

After a day of hanging out with my daughter and her band at Six Flags on Saturday, I really began to feel like a fuddy-duddy. I am apparently a tattoo-ist, too. Perhaps I’m just unable to commit, but would I really want to have angel wings forever engraved on my shoulder blades? Or worse, a large Yosemite Sam emblazoned on my bicep? The gentleman who had a tarantula tat dangling from a spiderweb behind his ear probably isn’t too concerned with my critique, but I guarantee that he’s not getting the prime income-earning positions in the work force.

I already knew I was a weight-ist. As a child, I was uncomfortable around people with more chins than limbs. As I have matured, I have nearly overcome this prejudiced view, which has a direct correlation with my own dance with the scales. But whatever happened to dressing modestly? After looking at the majority of arms in the amusement park, sleeves must not come in XXL. Better to show off those becoming tattoos, obviously.

Just because I have realized yet again that I can be quite judgmental doesn’t mean that I can’t change. Awareness is but the first step to eliminating a bad habit. But you’re still not going to find me at the tattoo parlor.

My Feng Shui article from the Dallas Morning News!

Uncertain times tend to make people feel nervous, and when unexpected events come along – even positive ones – it can really complicate things. Take my friend Layne, for example. She was thrilled when her daughter was selected to compete in the Future City engineering competition in Washington, D.C. But the cost of the trip wasn't in the budget.
"I had no idea where that $1,500 would come from. The stress of going into debt was making me depressed, so I put a note in my Helpful People/Travel section of my house and another one in my Wealth corner: 'Help with D.C. trip.' Not four days later, one of the other parents on the FC team called to tell me that my hotel room would be completely comped!"
Layne didn't use magical thinking to manifest a free hotel room. She simply shared her situation with her friends. Then she went one step further and used Feng Shui to enhance the energy of her home. She created a physical form of prayer with the notes and left the rest up to the heavens.
The 5,000-year-old philosophy of Feng Shui helps people look at their external environment in a new way. Every space, whether it's a house, a room, a desktop or even a city, is divided up into nine equal sections. Each of the sections in this "Bagua" map corresponds energetically with a different part of your life. Layne needed money for a trip, so she focused on the Travel and Wealth sections of her home.
When my husband was laid off a year and a half ago, I immediately placed a small table-top water fountain in the middle front part of our home, which is the part of the house that corresponds to Career and Life Path. Running water symbolically generates more opportunities.
Next, we swept out the garage, which is the front right corner of our home. This is our Helpful People/Travel section, and when this part of a home is neat, organized and filled with things that have positive stories to tell, you'll find that others show up to help you in ways that you didn't even know you needed.
I addressed the Skills & Knowledge section of the house, which is the left front corner. Any job search will lead to multiple opportunities, even if one of the options is to remain unemployed. Having the ability to discern the right step to take is key to future satisfaction. Clutter in this part means that your thought processes are too twisted to let true guidance through.
Finally, I scrubbed the walls in our Wealth section, which is the far left corner of the house. I got rid of the broken vase there and replaced the dusty plastic flowers with flourishing green plants. I also relocated a bamboo plant here to symbolize a new opportunity full of growth and abundance. I had my husband write out notes of gratitude for the new job to serve as physical reminders of the intentions.
While I worked on the house, Allen was busy networking and polishing his resume. He started doing some freelance work, and was pleased to see some promise there. Then the phone rang and a colleague from his previous employer asked if he'd be interested in coming back.
Of course, waterfalls, positive affirmations and bamboo plants won't fix a bad resume, a defeatist attitude or poor money management. However, by making conscious changes in your physical environment, you begin to modify your attitude – and your actions.
So finish your coffee, and take a look around. It's a perfect day to clear some clutter!
Beverly Biehl of Frisco runs her own interior decorating and feng shui consulting business. Her e-mail address is Beverly@TheIntuitiveInterior.com.

Now I lay me down to sleep...

It's amazing to me how easily old prayers spring to mind when I am back home with my siblings and my mom. For example, our breakfast prayer is probably the longest one that I've ever heard of, stemming from an early 80's Catholic program called Renew (or something like that...) It goes like this:

Bless us, oh Lord, and these Thy gifts
For which we are about to receive,
From Thy bounty,
Through Christ, Our Lord, Amen.

Good morning, good Jesus, this day is for you.
I ask for God's blessings in all things I say and do.
I offer up all of my thoughts, words, deeds, actions, and sufferings
in reparation for the sins of my past life.

Lord, we are your people, the sheep of your flock.
Heal the sheep who are wounded.
Touch the sheep who are in pain.
Clean the sheep who are soiled
and warm the lambs who are cold.
Help us to know the Father's love through Jesus the shepherd and through the Spirit.
Help us to lift up that love and show it all over this land.
Help us build love on justice and justice on love.
Help us to believe mightily, hope joyfully, and love divinely.
Renew us that we may help renew the face of the earth.

Whew! Breakfast is usually cold by the time we finish this whole thing, but we never fail to say it every morning when I'm at the farm. Even though I haven't claimed to be a Catholic since my late teens, I still faithfully follow the traditions whenever I'm with the fam...you know, when in Rome. However, there is something so beautiful about these prayers. I'm a firm believer in the benefits of blessing food, since it literally changes the vibration of your meal prior to eating it, making it more nutritious for your body.

I know that most Catholics believe that reincarnation is a bunch of nonsense, yet that last line of the second prayer always confused me. The sins of my past life? Technically, that's what confession is for, so is there another life that I'm supposed to be atoning for? Maybe so, maybe not...but it certainly makes for good pondering.

In the meantime, I'll just keep trying to do my best for this moment, this day, and this lifetime!

Diet, continued

Still going strong on the meatless meals! I've been surprised at how easy it is, as long as I'm doing the cooking. Otherwise, it's all meat, all the time at nearly all of the restaurants, especially the fast-food kind. No wonder most vegetarians I know of tend towards the thinner side.

I've been very appreciative of this experience. I am currently undergoing a new supplement regimin in an attempt to finally rid my body of a decade + long sinus infection, and am finding that my urine Ph is trending very alkaline. Good news if you want to stay cancer-free, since cancer cells die after only 24 hours in an 8.0 + environment. It's pretty standard for vegetarians to have this high of a level, though kinda hard on one's urinary tract. I'll be undergoing a "mudding" process next week, and will write about that, too.

As for right now, I'm going to try to relax here at the farm. It's harder than I thought, since I still have things to catch up on, read, and help around the place. I still feel like I'm not doing enough, too. Oh well...par for the course,I'm afraid!

Day 10...still no meat.

Today is proving to be the hardest yet in my quest to go for the full Lenten season w/o meat other than fish on Fridays. My daughter has joined me in this quest, and while most of the time I feel just dandy w/o it, we're having fajitas tonight. I love beef fajitas, but at least I can console myself with the portobello substitute. I've been going through some type of detox as far as I can tell, as my skin is breaking out, I have a mild rash, and I've been going through some digestive changes as well. Nothing major, but it's all very interesting.

It has been a day of ups & downs. I went to church on my own today, which was kinda nice. Alexander stayed home, since he had his big Cottilion ball today, and both kids needed a chance to sleep in. It would have been wonderful to dance with my son, but instead he chose to make the obligatory dance an absolute nightmare for me. Needless to say, after spending those few minutes on the dance floor with him telling me how furious he was with us (me) for going to the ball (only the last 30 minutes), it's going to be a while before I can feel like doing anything nice for him. A big apology from him and some serious groveling will be in order...little twerp. I sure didn't see any of the other kids spewing venom at their parents during the 3 songs that had been set aside for this purpose.

I finally got all of the paperwork in for the church trip that I'm organizing for Heifer Ranch in AR, so that was a load off my mind. One of the greeters asked if I'd be willing to help his boss with some feng shui options for his office, and maybe do some energy clearing on him, too. I was very pleased that he felt good enough about me to make that recommendation. It's just what I needed today!

Today is also the anniversary of my Dad's birth...I miss him. 2 1/2 years isn't that long for him to be gone, but some days it feels like it was just yesterday. Hope those angels know how to make German Chocolate Cake for him!

Newspaper love...

I went to a terrific symposium last night at the Dallas Morning News for all of the community Voices columnists. Many of the regular column writers were there to give advice on how to make a column more interesting, more compelling, and above all, worthy of the time spent reading it. I so appreciated those professionals taking the time out of their long days to share their expertise with us amateurs. It again stoked my desire to become more thoughtful and more critical of my motivations behind my words.

I guess it's a good thing that I have a computer to hide behind at times...sometimes I that "delete" key really is the most important one on the whole keyboard. Too bad the mouth doesn't come with one.

Anyway, I continue to be terribly saddened by the demise of the newspaper world. Yeah, you can get all kinds of news online these days, but where does that content come from? Yup, those pesky reporters that insist on getting paid for their work! I will be very curious to see just how much will go unchecked in the future years with severely limited investigative reporting staff. Do you really think that Nixon would have been brought down by bloggers?

For those of you reading this, make sure that when you buy something at a store today, tell them that you found their ad in the newspaper. Hopefully that will keep them from slashing their print budget, and perhaps it will give this venerable institution a few more years. One step at a time, and we'll all get through this. Times are a-changing, but on this topic, I'll dig my heels in.

meatless wonder - update

Well, much to my surprise, I haven't missed meat at all. I've noticed a definite lessening of my fat layer on my abdomen, and my digestive system seems to be approving of my decision, too. It has another interesting effect...I had wine with dinner last night, and it was almost silly how quickly I, well, got silly. So, meat must have the ability to absorb alcohol, or at least slow the absorption by the body. Go figure...

Lent - the metaphysical way!

I grew up Catholic, so Lenten Observations were de rigeur during childhood. Now that I no longer claim that particular church as my home, I still find myself drawn to the practice of abstaining from something that is important to you, in hopes of becoming more appreciative of what you already have. I've watched my Muslim friends go for the entire period of Ramadan without food or water during the day, and have seen how it can strengthen one's faith and character, and know that anytime one does something that changes your focus, it can be a very good thing.

But changing that focus from what you CAN'T have to what you CAN is easier said than done.

I've given up meat. Since I'm still allowing myself fish on Fridays, I guess that makes me a pescatarian rather than a vegetarian, but still, it's veggie heaven for me, at least for the next 40 days. My spiritual mentor became a vegetarian after he began seriously studying religion and metaphysics, stating that the karmic load for most meat is just too much to deal with, and it seems to work well for him. I'll be curious to see how I fare during these next few weeks.

Instead of lamenting the lack of lard, I'll embrace the loads of leaves out there. I'm also doing an internal cleanse, accompanied by a variety of other healing methods. This includes leaving behind my Southern Living at HOME business and all of the negative stuff that came with that. I'm keeping the positive experiences from it, though, of which there were many. I'm also releasing much of my cluttered paperwork, though that is almost harder to do than giving up my cheeseburger.

So, for now, I'll pretend that all animals are sacred cows. I'll give thanks for the bounty of our harvests, and enjoy the gratitude that each meal brings. And who knows? Maybe I'll even lose a few pounds! :-)

Twilight - or how I found my childhood again..

Re-entry sucks...

You see, I let my daughter and her Girl Scout troop members convince me that I needed to read the Twilight series. We saw the movie when it came out, and I really hadn't given it much more thought. That is, until those sweet eyes of my daughter and her friends got all gaga whenever the subject of vampire love came around, and Kathryn nearly tore my head off when I talked about delaying the purchase of book 4 until Christmas. I decided I needed to witness this phenomenon first-hand. After all, I finally finished listening to the Harry Potter series last month, and my eyes could use some new words to chew on. How could another series be a bad thing? I'm an adult, have grown-up responsibilities, and a well-developed sense of self-control. I wasn't in any danger of becoming the ravenous beastie that my 11-yr-old became during her time with the residents of Forks, WA. Right?

I made my way through the first one in about a week, thinking that I had been pretty quick about it, considering my busy schedule. Then I came down with a mild case of the flu, or a cold, or allergies...whatever the diagnosis, it felt right to spend more time relaxing with a good book instead of pushing myself to do more. And that's when it happened....

I got sucked in.

Suddenly, the world of vampires, werewolves, and the rainy Northwest town became more real, more urgent, and more compelling than I could have ever imagined. The words of the author reeled me in with her clarity of the mix of relationships and her evocative descriptions of passions both hostile and sensual. I ceased, ever so briefly, to care about the housework, the piles of dishes, even my emails. It was bliss!

Yes, by the final third of the 4th book, I was relieved that I was nearly through with the 700+ tomes, but mainly because the rest of the family was tired of being ignored and their patience with my obsession was wearing thin. Still, I honestly can't remember the last time that I allowed myself the joy of complete abandon like that.

I'm a very responsible person, sometimes to a fault. Even when I go on vacation, there tends to be an underlying purpose to it. Maybe a class is involved, a friend to visit, a family gathering to attend, but rarely do I do anything "just because". Yes, this began as a way to bond with the 7 girls who are currently in the troop, all 6th graders, but that was only the first book. The last three were purely for my own selfish purposes.

I wasn't prepared for the onslaught of emotions that poured over my soul. My passions were stirred by the descriptions of young love, and much of the phrasing reminded me of how I felt when I first started dating my husband. It wasn't that long ago, really, even though the mirror is sharing all of our gradually-acquired wrinkles. The isolation of a teen girl who just didn't fit into the small town life also rang true for me, though I never had the option to live anywhere else. How the realizations of how the little joys of that same life would overshadow the larger adventures, and how relationships were the true measure of happiness were key in my own life.

But most of all, I got to pretend, for a few blissful days, that I was someone else. I stopped "Do-ing" and became a human "Be-ing". I played! I don't allow myself the freedom to do that very often, and it felt really good.

Now, I don't foresee this type of literary marathon happening anytime again soon, since my back has made it perfectly clear that it doesn't appreciate being curled up for hours on end with a book in my lap, but it did put a small chink in my Work Harder armor. I have felt like I was sucking air in through a straw for many years through my thick metal suit, and taking this break was akin to lifting the helmet off and allowing a breath of fresh air in. I'm not quite ready to take off the whole thing just yet, but I'm fitting myself for some virtual chainmail in preparation for the day when I can chunk the heavy-duty protection for something lighter. Something that will still allow me to stay safe, yet move freely to dance and enjoy the music of life.

Something that will allow me to once again chase after the butterflies of my childhood and to pause long enough to name the shapes in the clouds. To Just BE!!

So, for now, I'll let the memories of Bella, Edward, Jacob, and the rest of the Twilight crowd integrate into my mind, while relishing the new understanding of those precious 6th grade girls who are still seriously crushing over those unattainable figures of supernatural masculinity. I've got my own reality to enjoy, for I am the author and creator of it. And that's better than any book out there. Well, maybe... :-)

Thanks, Stephanie Meyer! It was worth every minute!

Happy Valentine's Day to ME!!

I'm a sucker for sentiment. There, I admit it! That's why in the past it had been so disappointing to me that my darling husband just refused to buy into the Hallmark Holiday of Institutional Romance. We have never gone out for a romantic dinner in a restaurant on that day, nor have I been showered with massive bouquets of over-priced roses draped with diamonds. Usually the most that I could expect was a nice dinner at home, a card, and the occasional box of chocolates.

So, you can imagine my surprise when this year rolled around and there wasn't a single thing that he had done for me! I had purchased the chocolates for the kids, I got the ingredients for our nice dinner, and I had even gotten my own flowers. Because I knew he was so anti-holiday, I didn't even bother giving him a card. If he wasn't such a fantastic, romantic, helpful man all of the other days of the year, I'd be really bummed, but because he is, he gets a pass on all of the hoopla.

The day went along just fine, until the afternoon. It was a beautiful day, and he wanted to go for a walk with the dogs. We live close to the Tachyas Trail in east Frisco, and it's refreshingly wooded. After about a half mile of listening to Mocha cough and hack her way along the sidewalk, we stopped at the creek to give her trachea time to expand. I read the plaques that explained the origin of some of the landmark's names, and then noticed a bright green ribbon and an envelope tied to one of the old, gnarled trees alongside the walkway.

"How sweet! Wonder if it's a marriage proposal?"

"Why don't you go check it out?"

It was for me! My darling sweetheart of 18+ years had remembered my dismayed comment about not having any large trees around to lean on when I'm troubled, and had scoped out one that "spoke" to him. I love going for walks in nature when life gets complicated, and we only have scrawny shrubs in our neighborhood. What better present could there be than to know that I've been heard? That I'm loved for exactly who I am?

It was the best Valentine's Day EVER!!

Gardening woes

I think Mother Nature is conspiring against me. It seems that every time I get geared up to do yard work, a cold front moves in. OK, I know that 40 degrees doesn't qualify for an official cold front to most people, but add a nice 15 MPH wind, and it's pretty uncomfortable out there. I'm just getting over a bout w/ the latest version of a head cold, so there's no compelling reason to push my immune system.

Or is there? After all, playing in the dirt is a wonderful way to get your beneficial bacteria, and studies are showing all the time that the cleanest homes are often the sickest homes. Plus, I love having my own backyard produce, even if our new puppy will probably enjoy it more than we will. I'm just unwilling to do it all RIGHT NOW, apparently.

In the meantime, I'll have to gaze lovingly at my Mother Jones magazine and plot out my plots on paper, pick out my peat moss, and pester my progeny to pick up their rooms....

Get over it!

http://www.dallasnews.com/sharedcontent/dws/dn/latestnews/stories/012709dnmetbandmom.335626c.html?ocp=1#slcgm_comments_anchor

You need to read this before knowing what my rant is about.

Ok? Great! Seriously, what kind of nutjob helicopter mom embarrasses herself and her family by threatening a lawsuit over a band job?

I remember when I was in High School, I missed out on getting first place in the State Fair Style Revue because I had a gap in the waistline of my skirt. Actually, I didn't remember that at all, but when I was discussing the previously aforementioned article with my Mom, she reminded me about that distressing event. Apparently, even though my beautiful linen navy blue suit that I had fitted to near perfection had a small gap where my white blouse showed through the space between the zipper and the waistband on the back of my skirt. If I would have moved the hook & eye over just a smidge, I might have received the coveted Grand Champion ribbon!

Alas, my mom failed me. After all, according to her, it was all her fault. She didn't pay enough attention to my details. And, ever since that crushing defeat on the sewing front, my poor self-esteem has never recovered...

So, why did I not remember that? I do know that ever since I can remember, I've had to learn when something is good enough, and how easy it is to get lost in the details. Maybe it was precisely that lesson that helped me to know how to save my sanity by not allowing myself to fall into the pattern of many perfectionists, which is to never start anything that you don't know for a fact that you will succeed in.

I've blown many things in my life! In fact, I've just acknowledged that after 8 years of trying to be a success at network marketing with Southern Living at HOME, it's not working. It's not for me. I used to love the products and the people, but over time I got sidetracked. I put in my time, and made a ton of people happy. So what? I wasn't the world's greatest network marketer, but I was good enough.

Life is too short to make yourself miserable. This woman has chosen to live in her personal hell, and dragged her son and the rest of the school unwillingly. I'm happy that the majority of the school chose not to participate, but what an example of negativity to set.

So, for all of those people who are making excuses for not being happy, my advice is the same: Get Over It! Refocus your eyes and find all of the great things around you! So what that the boy can't put Drum Squad Leader on his college application. He's already gotten accepted at George Washington University!

Darn, maybe that's what cost him Harvard...or maybe it's that Mommy just didn't protest enough.

Harry Potter, Life Coach

So, I finally got around to finishing the whole "Harry Potter" series, and am now absolutely ravenous for the new movie! OK, I didn't actually "read" the last 3 books, but checked the audio versions out from the library. If you've never listened to a book on tape, this is a great series to enjoy. The reader (who's name has escaped me) captures the characters perfectly, never wavering from the appropriate accent, nor does he stray from just the right decibel level, even during the exciting parts. I hadn't realized just what a big deal that was until I tried other audiobooks, and found that some characters were voiced too quietly to hear over the road noise, and others would have such an obnoxious whine to them that I shut the whole thing down. But I digress...

During the book, "The Half-Blood Prince", Harry and his other 5th-year peers were trying to learn how to apparate & dis-apparate. The teacher used a 3-word mantra to help them learn this very difficult task. I thought it was fascinating how it could be applied to our own lives:

- Destination: Figure out where you want to be. Hold the thought in your mind and stay focused on it.
- Determination: How much do you really want to go there? If it doesn't matter whether you make it or not, then is it really worth your effort?
- Deliberation: Once you've selected your destination, and have a determined mind to get there, it's time to set out a plan for achieving your goal. This is where many people fall short. I'm a big believer in the concept that our thoughts create our reality, but no amount of wishful thinking will cause a new Jaguar Hybrid to materialize in my garage.

If I want to have that as my reality, I have to put my feet to work, too. But as I take actions to make room for that new vehicle, I'll recognize opportunities when they arise through my visualizations. I can only hope that our new President will use these three things daily as he navigates his new job.

Destination: A renewed economy and global goodwill
Determination: Inspiring hope and personal accountability for all Americans and acknowledging the good that others have to offer as well
Deliberation: Inspiring speeches, decisive action, and surrounding oneself with smart people.

OK, maybe a bit simplistic, but you get the point. And if you don't, just check out the book from the library. It's really good, and sure does make for a quick commute!

The 12 Best Sayings I Heard or Read – to use in 2009

12. I believe that banking institutions are more dangerous to our liberties than standing armies. Thomas Jefferson

11. Someone who sighs because he doesn't believe that God forgives him for his sins, is an atheist! Rebbe Mottele Tchernobiler

10. If you want your dreams to come true, don't sleep. Yiddish proverb

9. There are three things which are real: God, Human Folly, and Laughter. The first two are beyond our comprehension, so we must do what we can with the third. (from Tales of the Ramayana as told by Aubrey Menen, Scribners, 1954, p. 276)

8. When I was young, I admired clever people. Now that I am old, I admire kind people. Abraham Joshua Heschel

7. Life can only be understood backward, but it must be lived forwards. Soren Kierkegaard

6. I slept and dreamt that life was joy, I awoke and saw that life was service, I acted and behold service was joy. Tagore

5. Ask not what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive...then go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive. Howard Thurman

4. Music is what language would like to be if it could.

3. In a country well governed, poverty is something to be ashamed of. In a country badly governed, wealth is something to be ashamed of. Confucius.

2. Kindness is more important than wisdom, and the recognition of this is the beginning of wisdom. Theodore Rubin

1. The wireless telegraph is not difficult to understand. The ordinary telegraph is like a very long cat. You pull the tail in New York, and it meows in Los Angeles. The wireless is the same, only without the cat. Albert Einstein

This came from the following mail list:The ALEPH-PNAI-OR mailing list is hosted by Shamash: The Jewish Network a service of Hebrew College, which offers online courses and an online MA in Jewish Studies, http://hebrewcollege.edu/online/

Texas Hair and Mountain Mamas...

I love our yearly forays into the mountains of New Mexico! I inevitably return with a rekindled desire to relocate to the mountains, and this year is no exception.

The culture of Los Alamos is fascinating. After living in the Dallas area for nearly a decade, I've grown used to women (and increasingly men) being Botoxed, bedazzled, and BMW'ed to the hilt. Status is conveyed by the height of the hair and the bounce in the boobs, or by the size of your house. Granted, I am making a major generalization here, but many Texas folks also seem to be unconcerned about the size of their ever-growing girth, too.

Now, juxtapose that with the New Year's Eve party we attended in LANM. There, I soon found out, the things that made one part of the "In" crowd centered on two things; education level and physical fitness. Where else but in the shadow of the lab that made the atomic bomb would you find a PhD in Physical Chemistry teaching preschool? The number of physicists, geologists, and engineers in the room made for an interesting experience, mainly in that I felt like a total numbskull. Hey, I may not be Einstein, but I've always thought of myself as relatively intelligent. Suddenly, though, all of my skills and intellectual prowess seem diminished when talking to a guy who has multiple doctorates and deals daily with keeping the nuclear detonators from going boom.

Honestly, I found it all exhilerating! It's been quite frustrating to see how many times education has been seen as a negative (witness the latest Presidential election, and the past 2 administrations). We do what we can with our own children to encourage intellectual curiosity, and yet run up against the age-old prejudice against being smart. I wish I had a dime for every time that I was chided for using "big words" as a child. I loved the precision of them, and the wonderful way they rolled off the tongue. "Gregarious" was a personal favorite, especially since I felt it described my personality.

There really aren't many overweight folks in Los Alamos, either. You'd have to work hard to get fat there, expecially since the lure of the outdoors is so strong. Hiking, biking, skiing, and shoveling snow all call for one to be in decent shape. Plus, if you want to have a sharp mind, a lot of fresh air and fewer excess pounds will help you to achieve that goal.

Sure, I look a lot more presentable while in the 'burbs of Texas with my heavily sprayed hairdo, tailored clothing, and ever-present face full of make-up, but I feel more real when hanging out in Los Alamos, with the freshly scrubbed face free of mascara, the hair barely recognizable after being smooshed by a ski hat, and layers of long underwear obscuring my curves. After all, fashion is totally subjective, right?