2007

He who breaks a resolution is a weakling;
He who makes one is a fool.
~F.M. Knowles

New Year's eve is like every other night; there is no pause in the march of the universe, no breathless moment of silence amidst all of creation that acknowledges the passage of another year, and yet we humans look on this nights’ coming darkness as a marker, a new start, another chance…

We will open a new book, and find that its pages are blank. We will put our words onto those pages. That book is called Our Life and its first chapter is New Year's Day.

Ring out the old, ring in the new,
Ring, happy bells, across the snow:
The year is going, let him go;
Ring out the false, ring in the true.
~Alfred, Lord Tennyson, 1850

To the family who have become friends,
and to the friends who have become family:

Beannachd Dia dhuit et Bonne Année

Translation: blessings of God be with you (Scots Gaelic) and Happy New Year (Quebecoise)
With inspirational nods to Hamilton Wright Mabi & Edith Lovejoy Pierce

T'was The Diet After Christmas...

T'was the day after Christmas, and all through the house
Not a damn thing would fit me, not even a blouse.
The cookies I'd nibbled, the eggnog I'd taste
At the holiday parties had gone to my waist.

When I got on the scales there arose such a number!
When I walked to the store (less a walk than a lumber),
I'd remember the marvelous meals I'd prepared;
The gravies, and sauces, and beef nicely rared,

The wine and the rum-balls, the bread and the cheese,
And the way that I'd never said, "No thank you, please."
As I dressed myself up, in my husband's old shirt,
And prepared once again to do battle with dirt -

I said to myself, (as only I can),
"You can't spend the winter disguised as a man!"
So, away with the last of the sour cream dip,
Get rid of the fruit cake, each cracker, and chip,

Every last bit of food that I like must be banished
'til all the unwanted ounces have vanished!
I won't have a cookie, not even a lick...
I'll just have to chew on a celery stick.

I won't have hot biscuits, or corn bread, or pie;
I'll munch on a carrot, and quietly cry.
I'm hungry, I'm lonesome, and life is a bore -
But isn't that what January is for?

Unable to giggle, no longer a riot...
Happy New Year to all, and to all a good diet!

T'was the Night Before Christmas

Live, Love, Laugh,

Smell the Sweet Spirits,

Dance with the Skies,

Hearken unto me my friend and

Hear my Prayer for your Happiness,

Your Safety, and Your Love this Holiday Season..

Blessed Be.

Happy Solstice!

Rejoice! The Light Returns!

Namaste

(photo credit: tenetsi, deviantart)

Food for Thought

How many of our daydreams would darken into nightmares, were there a danger of their coming true?


~Logan Pearsall Smith

and a peace fell over the land...

I don't support the war, but a wholeheartedly support the men and women who serve in the military from all our countries...Let's bring them all home safely.

Different Christmas Poem

The embers glowed softly, and in their dim light,

I gazed round the room and I cherished the sight.

My wife was asleep, her head on my chest,

My daughter beside me, angelic in rest.

Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white,

Transforming the yard to a winter delight.

The sparkling lights in the tree I believe,

Completed the magic that was Christmas Eve.

My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep,

Secure and surrounded by love I would sleep.

In perfect contentment, or so it would seem,

So I slumbered, perhaps I started to dream.

The sound wasn't loud, and it wasn't too near,

But I opened my eyes when it tickled my ear.

Perhaps just a cough, I didn't quite know,

Then the sure sound of footsteps outside in the snow.

My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear,

And I crept to the door just to see who was near.

Standing out in the cold and the dark of the night,

A lone figure stood, his face weary and tight.

A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old,

Perhaps a Marine, huddled here in the cold.

Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled,

Standing watch over me, and my wife and my child.

"What are you doing?" I asked without fear,

"Come in this moment, it's freezing out here!

Put down your pack, brush the snow from your sleeve,

You should be at home on a cold Christmas Eve!

"For barely a moment I saw his eyes shift,

Away from the cold and the snow blown in drifts..

To the window that danced with a warm fire's light

Then he sighed and he said, "Its really all right,

I'm out here by choice. I'm here every night."

"It's my duty to stand in the front of the line,

That separates you from the darkest of times.

No one had to ask or beg or implore me,

I'm proud to stand here like my fathers before me.

My Gramps died at Pearl on a day in December,"

Then he sighed, "That's a Christmas Gram always remembers.

My dad stood his watch in the jungles of Nam,

And now it is my turn and so, here I am.

I've not seen my own son in more than a while,

But my wife sends me pictures, he's sure got her smile.

Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his bag,

The red, white, and blue... an American flag.

"I can live through the cold and the being alone,

Away from my family, my house and my home.

I can stand at my post through the rain and the sleet,

I can sleep in a foxhole with little to eat.

I can carry the weight of killing another,

Or lay down my life with my sister and brother..

Who stand at the front against any and all,

To ensure for all time that this flag will not fall."

"So go back inside," he said, "harbor no fright,

Your family is waiting and I'll be all right."

"But isn't there something I can do, at the least,

Give you money," I asked, "or prepare you a feast?

It seems all too little for all that you've done,

For being away from your wife and your son.

"Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret,

"Just tell us you love us, and never forget.

To fight for our rights back at home while we're gone,

To stand your own watch, no matter how long.

For when we come home, either standing or dead,

To know you remember we fought and we bled.

Is payment enough, and with that we will trust,

That we mattered to you as you mattered to us."

PLEASE, Would you do me the kind favor of sending this to as many people as you can? Christmas will be coming soon and some credit is due to our U.S. service men and women for our being able to celebrate these festivities. Let's try in this small way to pay a tiny bit of what we owe. Make people stop and think of our heroes, living and dead, who sacrificed themselves for us.

LCDR Jeff Giles,

SC, USN

30th Naval Construction Regiment

OIC, Logistics Cell One

Al Taqqadum, Iraq

Amen
Let there be Peace
Blessed Be.

What we have once enjoyed we can never lose. A sunset, a mountain bathed in moonlight, the ocean in calm and in storm. We see these, love their beauty, hold the vision in our hearts. All that we love deeply becomes a part of us.
~ Helen Keller

Photo Credit: Suzanne Gabriel (photo.net)

Speak Friend and Enter...

I felt it shelter to speak to you. ~Emily Dickinson

Trouble is part of all our lives, and if you don't share your troubles, you don't give those people who love you enough chance to show you that love.
Some people come and go quickly in our lives.
Some come to stay, forever marking our hearts, and we are never, ever the same.

???

Did you ever stop to think whether we stop and think about the really important things?

We all get pensive at times. Most of us have considered the the future, the past, and the points in between.

but have we ever stopped to consider whether our ponderings ponder that which needs to be pondered?

are our minds so cluttered with the mundane that we fail to see?
and how would we know?

well?

Food For Thought Series

I like your Christ, I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ.

~Mahatma Gandhi

A wish for my American Friends....

Not what we say about our blessings, but how we use them, is the true measure of our thanksgiving.

~W.T. Purkiser

may your Thanksgiving be a blessed one...

Food For Thought series

In war, there are no unwounded soldiers.

~José Narosky

The Eleventh Hour of the Eleventh Day of the Eleventh Month







Lest We Forget...

those that served and died in the War to End All Wars, and all our wars since then,
and lest we forget those who continue to serve and die in all our current conflicts.

War does not determine who is right, it only determines who is left...

Blessed Be

Have I lost?

I would empty my soul of the dreams that have gathered in me,
I would beat with your heart as it beats, I would follow your soul as it leads.
I would live in your love
Sarah Teasdale

A beautiful sentiment perhaps...Can one love this much without losing one's own being? and better yet, should we?

The dreamer in me says yes, to love this passionately is to feel the divine
The cynic in me says no, that to give up one's own dreams is to give over to an emptiness which can never be filled by another.

Perhaps, we should ask whether someone who loves us as much as we love them would ever ask us to give up our own dreams or sacrifice our soul to live in their love...

Catechism for a Witch's Child

When they ask to see your gods

your book of prayers

show them lines

drawn delicately with veins

on the underside of a bird's wing

tell them you believe

in giant sycamores mottled

and stark against a winter sky

and in nights so frozen

stars crack open spilling

streams of molten ice to earth

and tell them how you drink

a holy wine of honeysuckle

on a warm spring day

and of the softness

of your mother who never taught you

death was life's reward

but who believed in the earth

and the sun

and a million, million light years

of being

J.L. Stanley

A Blessed Samhain, A Happy Halloween
A Blessed All Souls Day ...
whatever you celebrate....may it be a safe and peaceful time.

Namaste


Artwork credit: October Pumpkins and Worms - Ilfed

What do you believe in?

Let it go...

Hey hey …

Too many doubts
Too much fear
Too much danger
When society constructs
Our human nature oh
Live by the rules
Live by the laws
Live by commandments
Notions preconceived
Can lead to utter madness

Let it go
Let it go
Let it free your body
Let it move your soul
Let it go
oh no
We are made
We are not born
Let it go
Let it free your body
Let it move your soul
Let it go
No no
We are made
We are not born

Learn to convert
Learn to assert
Learn to abandon Ideologies and
Disciplines at random
Lay down the laws
Lay down the rules
Lay down commandments
Lift the sanctions
That restricts this woman's madness

Uniformity
Conventionality
Is the fate of our existence?
Keep it safely at a distance
Nonconformity
Unconventionality
Is to dare to be?
Let your hair down
Can’t you see?

Let it go
Let it go
Let it free your body
Let it move your soul
Let it go
No no
We are made
We are not born
Let it go
Let it go
Let it free your body
Let it move your soul
Let it go
Woman is made
She is not born

Let it go, let it go …

(Luba)

Food For Thought series

Give without Remembering,
Take without Forgetting.

Photocredit: MoonLit Trees by Kevin Temple (photonet)

Perspective people perspective...

Change the way you look at things and the things you look at will change.

I can’t count the times I’ve either received this advice, or given it. But it’s true and although it can be a major challenge it can often make the world of difference to our well-being, our stress levels, and our quality of life.

Relax! None of us can control the world we live in. We can’t control the rain that falls on a day we’d counted on to be sunny. We can’t control the bus schedule, or the train schedule. We can’t control whether the internet servers are up and running or whether they’ve crashed (again).

The only thing we can control is our reactions to it. Our initial gut reactions (anger, frustration, self-pity) should be acknowledged, but not allowed to reign. Allow yourself a finite period of self-pity if you didn’t get the job you went for, but once that allotted time is up, get up shake yourself off and get back to work. Likewise with anger and frustration…acknowledge it then move on to a practical solution.

Namaste

Campaign for Real Beauty

Questions? Comments?
Takes alot of effort to try to live up to a marketing fantasy, doesn't it?

Death Be Not Proud

by John Donne

(1572-1631)

---

DEATH be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not so,
For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleepe, which but thy pictures bee,
Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee doe goe,
Rest of their bones, and soules deliverie.
Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poyson, warre, and sicknesse dwell,
And poppie, or charmes can make us sleepe as well,
And better then thy stroake; why swell'st thou then;
One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.

Footsteps of Angels

When the hours of Day are numbered,
And the voices of the Night
Wake the better soul, that slumbered,
To a holy, calm delight;

Ere the evening lamps are lighted,
And, like phantoms grim and tall,
Shadows from the fitful firelight
Dance upon the parlor wall;

Then the forms of the departed
Enter at the open door;
The beloved, the true-hearted,
Come to visit me once more;

He, the young and strong, who cherished
Noble longings for the strife,
By the roadside fell and perished,
Weary with the march of life!

They, the holy ones and weakly,
Who the cross of suffering bore,
Folded their pale hands so meekly,
Spake with us on earth no more!

And with them the Being Beauteous,
Who unto my youth was given,
More than all things else to love me,
And is now a saint in heaven.

With a slow and noiseless footstep
Comes that messenger divine,
Takes the vacant chair beside me,
Lays her gentle hand in mine.

And she sits and gazes at me
With those deep and tender eyes,
Like the stars, so still and saint-like,
Looking downward from the skies.

Uttered not, yet comprehended,
Is the spirit's voiceless prayer,
Soft rebukes, in blessings ended,
Breathing from her lips of air.

Oh, though oft depressed and lonely,
All my fears are laid aside,
If I but remember only
Such as these have lived and died!
(Henry Wadsworth Longfellow)

We don't have an eternity to realize our dreams, only the time we are here.
So let's move, let's forget our fears, let's live large, let's feel the wind, see the sunshine, embrace the gentle wash of rain, let's realize those dreams, ere the evening lamps are lighted and shadows dance on the parlour wall...

The Rose

Some say love it is a river
that drowns the tender reed
Some say love it is a razer
that leaves your soul to bleed

Some say love it is a hunger
an endless aching need
I say love it is a flower
and you it's only seed

It's the heart afraid of breaking
that never learns to dance
It's the dream afraid of wakingthat never takes the chance
It's the one who won't be taken
who cannot seem to give
and the soul afraid of dyingthat never learns to live

When the night has been too lonely
and the road has been too long
and you think that love is only
for the lucky and the strong

Just remember in the winter
far beneath the bitter snows
lies the seed
that with the sun's love
in the spring
becomes the rose
(Bette Midler)

The strongest walls guard the most timorous hearts.

The Inner Life of a Cell

Impressive...watch it.

Faith

Better trust all and be deceiv’d,
And weep that trust, and that deceiving,
Than doubt one heart that, if believ’d,
Had blessed one’s life with true believing.

Oh, in this mocking world, too fast
The doubting fiend o’ertakes our youth!
Better be cheated to the last
Than lose the blessèd hope of truth.

Frances Anne Kemble (1809–93)

what balm to heal the wounds of others doing?

how does one earn that fresh page or that clean brush?

Autumnal Equinox

Happy Alban Elfed, Autumn Equinox, Autumnal Equinox, Cornucopia, Feast of Avilon, Festival of Dionysus, Harvest Home, Harvest Tide, Mabon, Night of the Hunter, Second Harvest Festival, Wine Harvest, Witch's Thanksgiving, first day of autumn, or whichever other seasonal name you prefer.

Neo-pagans use the name Mabon. Mabon was the son of Mordon, the Goddess of the earth (Welsh Mythology). Our family has always used the name Autumnal Equinox and used it as a time of Thanksgiving.

According to the Celtic cycle of the year, autumns’ equinox was the second harvest (first harvest festival = Lammas in August).

The Autumnal equinox signals the beginning of fall. It is the point where there are exactly 12 hours of daylight and 12 hours of darkness (okay, technically only at the equator – humour me, okay?!). The daylight hours are decreasing and will continue to decrease until the Winter Solstice (in December), the shortest day of the year and the start of winter.

Here the leaves are beginning to turn and the nights are crisp (snuggle weather! as opposed to the it's "too f*ing hot" weather...)

Things I am thankful for: My family, my friends (those I know in real life and those I have yet to meet), my health and the health of those dear to me…

Today may we appreciate this food and remember those who are hungry.
May we appreciate our family and friends and remember those who are alone.
May we appreciate our health and remember those who are sick.
May we appreciate the freedoms we have and remember those who suffer injustice and tyranny.

To the friends who have become family
and the family who have become friends-

Peace on earth.

Namaste

If winter is slumber and spring is birth, and summer is life, then autumn rounds out to be reflection. It's a time of year when the leaves are down and the harvest is in and the perennials are gone. Mother Earth just closed up the drapes on another year and it's time to reflect on what's come before. (M. Burgess, Northern Exposure)

For man, autumn is a time of harvest, of gathering together.
For nature, it is a time of sowing, of scattering abroad. (E. Teale)

Take advantage of the crisp air and the longer nights
Use this time as you see fit...
Look ahead, we will be there

Namaste

I'm going to try...

To laugh often and much;
To win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children;
To earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends;
To appreciate beauty, to find the best in others;
To leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition;
To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived.
This is to have succeeded.
Bessie Stanley

not only am I going to try to succeed in this way...but I'm going to grab my eyepatch, swab the deck, take many a swig of grog, keelhaul landlubbers, and keep to the code!

Yarrrrr ya scurvy dogs ...'tis International Talk like a Pirate Day...shiver me timbers! It's the plank for you!

Avast and Ahoy!

It was a day like any other day.

My hometown.

BITCHOLOGY

BITCHOLOGY

When I stand up for myself and my beliefs, they call me a bitch.

When I stand up for those I love, they call me a bitch.

When I speak my mind, think my own thoughts or do things my own way, they call me a bitch.

Being a bitch means I won't compromise what's in my heart.
It means I live my life MY way.
It means I won't allow anyone to step on me.
When I refuse to tolerate injustice and speak against it, I am defined as a bitch.
The same thing happens when I take time for myself instead of being everyone's maid, or when I act a little selfish.
It means I have the courage and strength to allow myself to be who I truly am and won't become anyone else's idea of what they think I "should" be.
I am outspoken, opinionated and determined.
I want what I want and there is nothing wrong with that!
So try to stomp on me, try to douse my inner flame, try to squash every ounce of beauty I hold within me.
You won't succeed.

And if that makes me a bitch , so be it.
I embrace the title and am proud to bear it.

B - Babe
I - In
T - Total
C - Control of
H - Herself

B = Beautiful
I = Intelligent
T = Talented
C = Charming
H = Hell of a Woman

B = Beautiful
I = Individual
T = That
C = Can
H = Handle anything

Come By the Hills

Come by the hills to the land
where fancy is free.
And stand where the peaks meet the sky
and the rocks reach the sea.
Where the rivers run clear and the bracken
is gold in the sun.
And cares of tomorrow must wait
till this day is done.

Come by the hills to the land
where life is a song
And sing while the birds fill the air
with their joy all day long.
Where the trees sway in time, and even
the wind sings in tune.
And cares of tomorrow must wait
till this day is done.

Come by the hills to the land
where legend remains
Where stories of old stir the heart
and may yet come again.
Where the past has been lost and the future
is still to be won.
And cares of tomorrow must wait
till this day is done.

Come by the hills to the land
where fancy is free.
And stand where the peaks meet the sky
and the rocks reach the sea.
Where the rivers run clear and the bracken
is gold in the sun.
And cares of tomorrow must wait
till this day is done.
And cares of tomorrow must wait

till this day is done.

Traditional Gaelic

...and those cares, they must wait their turn, for todays' sun is not yet set.

Namaste

Dear Blogger,

You "up-graded" my account to a Beta-Blogger.
Now I can't comment on anyone's blog because I'm beta and they're not.
This is not an improvement...
Thanks ever so much. <= was the sarcasm clear enough?? huh? was it?

signed,
a disgruntled blogger

the moors are calling...

Autumn is fast approaching...I love this time of year. I love absolutely everything about it.

Too many people think of this time of year in melancholy terms, the leaves dying, and everything ending, not me I see it as a beginning...I become alive, awake.
They used to tell me that this is because the veil is thin at this time of year...I don't know what it is, but I know I love it.

...the changing colours, the blustery winds, the blowing leaves, the first frost, and the smells. Nothing, nothing in this world smells as good as the autumn; a Vermont farm stand, the fragrant mix of apples, cider, pine trees, and crisp clear mountain air), frost, brisk mornings, and snow in the mountains - yes they all have a smell.
throw in a leaf burning fire, and the thrill of biting into a crisp sour Northern Spy or Spartan, and it's pure heaven.

There is something about the crisp autumn air, bonfires, fireplaces, and the comforting feeling of pulling on a snugly sweatshirt, or snuggling down into warm blankets that is exciting to me.

I love the mists that swirl in around now and will find almost any excuse to go out and walk in them - the thicker the better! I love losing my self in the stillness and mystery the mist brings with it...and let's face it pumpkins are just so pretty.

Traditionally, Samhain was the Celtic new year and to me this time of year really does signify the new year; not January 1.
the big changes happen now...we make all sorts of new years's resolutions in January and but nothing really changes from Dec 31 to the morning after...with the possible exception of the hang over.

It's autumn that signals change, new schools, new school years, university kids leaving home for the first time, new adventures, new harvests, new plans, life gears back up and yet quiets down...

There is a sense of excitement and anticipation, and it comes something other than visiting stationary stores and fondling new school supplies.

There is a growing quiet in the woods.

Alys (from MySpace, aka REEPT from Blather) said that she heard the geese calling early one morning and hearing that call made her want to go home...a feeling that she couldn't pinpoint or explain anymore than that.

I understand completely, although I doubt I can describe it any better.

In the autumn, When I'm standing alone in the woods, or in the mountains, or anywhere and I get a whiff of something in the air, a hint of an indescribable scent that triggers a feeling and need to be somewhere, to be home. I hear an inaudible voice summoning me to something somewhere and I sense an impulsive need to follow that call to meet whatever is beckoning.

Who knows, maybe someday I will...

Win, Lose, or Draw

A handful of patience is worth its weight in gold, but as the Latin Proverb says: If the wind will not serve, take to the oars.

The trick is to know when to start rowing; too soon and you do not leave the Universe room to play its hand, too late and you lose your chance.

Namaste

Most conversations are simply monologues delivered in the presence of witnesses.

Perhaps we would accomplish more if we listened.

I am sorry!

Miracles: You do not have to look for them. They are there, 24-7, beaming like radio waves all around you. Put up the antenna, turn up the volume - snap... crackle... this just in, every person you talk to is a chance to change the world
Hugh Elliot

'tis true my lovelies...turn on the news tonight and listen; all that is a result of what each and every one of us chose to do, or chose not to do.

They say that the beat of a butterfly wing can cause a ripple effect large enough to cause a tsunami...think what we can accomplish if we'd only try.
Stop whining, stop expecting others to fix things, stop expecting others to be as smart, or smarter than you...
You think the world is stupid, and it is, but remember this my love, you are part of this same world (if only a small part); you are the wings of a butterfly....

Just One

a thought...gleened from a Mirthful Mystic via The Quotations Page

If you haven't found something strange during the day, it hasn't been much of a day.
John A. Wheeler

Today was 'much of a day'

Mama, we're all crazy now...

‘Abused patience turns to fury’

J'ai un nerf qui me reste et tu saute là-dessus; And to quote The Hulk “You're making me angry. You wouldn't like me when I'm angry.”

I have a right to this anger.
I don't want anybody telling me I shouldn't be angry, that it's not nice to be angry, and that something's wrong with me because I get angry.

But it’s all lost in the wind, yes?

I have heard there are troubles of more than one kind.
Some come from ahead and some come from behind.
But I've bought a big bat. I'm all ready you see.
Now my troubles are going to have troubles with me!
~Dr. Seuss

As the Yiddish Proverb says: I ask not for a lighter burden, but for broader shoulders.


I suppose we must all learn to embrace and endure our pain; burning it as fuel for the journey, but not allowing it to make us bitter.

Beannachd Dia dhuit

It's a small comfort...

Don't stand beside my grave and weep,
For I'm not there, I do not sleep,
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond's glint on snow,
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn's rain.

When you awaken in morning's hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush,
of quiet birds in circle flight,
I am soft stars that shine at night,
Don't stand beside my grave and cry,
I am not there. I did not die.

Poem: Mary E. Frye
Photo credit: Michael Haydon (photo.net)


You are free. May you be blessed.

We say that the hour of death cannot be forecast, but when we say this we imagine that hour as placed in an obscure and distant future. It never occurs to us that it has any connection with the day already begun or that death could arrive this same afternoon, this afternoon which is so certain and which has every hour filled in advance. (Marcel Proust)

Give those you love an extra hug and don't hesitate to tell them how much you love them. Death often comes suddenly and we may never get another chance.

The death of someone we know always reminds us that we are still alive - perhaps for some purpose which we ought to re-examine. (Mignon McLaughlin, 1960)

After the tears we shall remember that we're alive.

A bountiful Lammas to all

John Barleycorn

There was three kings into the east,

Three kings both great and high,

And they hae sworn a solemn oath

John Barleycorn should die.

They took a plough and plough'd him down,

Put clods upon his head,

And they hae sworn a solemn oath

John Barleycorn was dead.

But the cheerful Spring came kindly on,

And show'rs began to fall;

John Barleycorn got up again,

And sore surpris'd them all.

The sultry suns of Summer came,

And he grew thick and strong,

His head weel arm'd wi' pointed spears,

That no one should him wrong.

The sober Autumn enter'd mild,

When he grew wan and pale;

His bending joints and drooping head

Show'd he began to fail.

His coulour sicken'd more and more,

He faded into age;

And then his enemies began

To show their deadly rage.

They've taen a weapon, long and sharp,

And cut him by the knee;

Then ty'd him fast upon a cart,

Like a rogue for forgerie.

They laid him down upon his back,

And cudgell'd him full sore;

They hung him up before the storm,

And turn'd him o'er and o'er.

They filled up a darksome pit

With water to the brim,

They heaved in John Barleycorn,

There let him sink or swim.

They laid him out upon the floor,

To work him farther woe,

And still, as signs of life appear'd,

They toss'd him to and fro.

They wasted, o'er a scorching flame,

The marrow of his bones;

But a Miller us'd him worst of all,

For he crush'd him between two stones.

And they hae taen his very heart's blood,

And drank it round and round;

And still the more and more they drank,

Their joy did more abound.

John Barleycorn was a hero bold,

Of noble enterprise,

For if you do but taste his blood,

'Twill make your courage rise.

'Twill make a man forget his woe;

'Twill heighten all his joy:

'Twill make the widow's heart to sing,

Tho' the tear were in her eye.

Then let us toast John Barleycorn,

Each man a glass in hand;

And may his great posterity

Ne'er fail in old Scotland!

Robert Burns

for seekers: Lammas, or Lughnasadh, is the fifth sabbat on the Wheel of the Year. With Lammas, we celebrate the first stirrings of autumn and the harvests. Summer, with its light and warmth, will be gone soon. Even though it doesn't quite feel like Fall yet, the coming of the dark times of the year is inevitable.

There is some debate as to the exact date of Lammas / Lughnasadh. Agriculturally speaking, this is the time when the harvests would begin and depending on the weather the celebration dates can vary (generally August 1 -6).

In many agrarian societies, the last harvested sheaf of grain was treated with special honour, for they believed that with the cutting of the last sheaf, the corn spirit retreated into the ground. There the corn spirit slept through the Winter. In the Spring that last sheaf was returned to the fields when new seed was being sown, so that its spirit would awaken both seed and land.

One traditional Lammas custom was the construction of the kern-baby, corn doll, or corn maiden. This figure, braided into a woman's form from the last harvested sheaf of grain, represented the Harvest Spirit. (In America, the tradition is continued in the making of corn husk dolls.) The doll would be saved until Spring, when it was ploughed into the field to consecrate the new planting and insure a good harvest. In other traditions, the corn dolly was fed and watered throughout the Winter, then burned in the fires at Beltane to insure a continuation of good growth.

Another custom drawn from Lammas relates to fire. Lammas was, to the Celts, one of four Great Fire Festivals, held on the cross-quarter days. During Lammas, the custom of lighting bonfires was intended to add strength to the powers of the waning sun. Afterward, the fire brands were kept in the home through the Winter as protection against storms, lightning and fires caused by lightning

MythingLinks

who's going to pick up these pieces?

I'm not concerned about all hell breaking loose, but that a PART of hell will break loose... it'll be much harder to detect. (George Carlin)


Dear George,
You have only to listen to the news…the pieces of hell are in evidence everywhere.
There are pieces in the Middle East. There are pieces in Africa. There are pieces anywhere a child is harmed, and anywhere Gaia is irrevocably damaged. They are everywhere where people choose to hate rather than find a way to co-exist, and everywhere people turn their backs and do nothing to help those in need and those who suffer (not just those in war torn areas, but all those who are alone and forgotten)
…Chaos has indeed come again.
Kindest Regards,
Me


I pray for all of humanity to one day feel the pulse of the Mother Earth in their feet as they tread.
I pray for mankind to find the faith to believe in the messages carried by their dreams and to see beyond the visible world.
I pray that everyone I come in contact with can walk away with much, or at least some, of the happiness that lives within me.
I pray for peace, acceptance, and tolerance for all who express their love for the higher power (whatever that name may be).
Most of all,
I pray for an end to the violence and depravity that darkens many souls.
Peace be with us all!

photo credit: unknown

Pain...

When we are young often pain comes from having loved too hard
When we are older pain is often the result of having lived too hard

Live, Love, Laugh...Learn

...and this too my child

The Swing (Robert Louis Stevenson)

How do you like to go up in a swing,
Up in the air so blue?
Oh, I do think it the pleasantest thing
Ever a child can do!

Up in the air and over the wall,
Till I can see so wide,
River and trees and cattle and all
Over the countryside--

Till I look down on the garden green,
Down on the roof so brown--
Up in the air I go flying again,
Up in the air and down!



It is my wish that all of the worlds children (including you and me) could go back to such simple pleasures.

Genius is childhood recaptured

Démerden Zie sich

The pessimist complains about the wind;
The optimist expects it to change;
And the realist adjusts the sails.
(William Arthur Ward, "To Risk")

Dear World,
As Bette Davis says in All About Eve;
'Fasten your seat belt, it's going to be a bumpy ride.'
I believe it's time to adjust our sails;
prepare for the worst while hoping for the best.
Love and Kisses
Me

Techy Test

will it work I wonder?



Can it get better than brains and a sense of humour?
Make me laugh and I will love you!

Summer is the time when one sheds one's tensions with one's clothes,
and the right kind of day is jeweled balm for the battered spirit.
A few of those days and you can become drunk with the belief
that all's right with the world.

Ada Louise Huxtable



and for those few brief hours it can be - at least here in my little bubble; but in that shortwhile there is time to apply enough balm to heal the raw wounds of living...

They who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night


Edgar Allan Poe

I have heard enough warrior stories of heroic daring.
Tell me how you crumble when you hit the wall,
the place you cannot go beyond by the strength of your own will.
What carries you to the other side of that wall,
to the fragile beauty of your own humanness?

Show me how you take care of business
without letting business determine who you are.

Show me how you offer to your people and the world
the stories and the songs you want our children's children to remember,
and I will show you how I struggle
not to change the world, but to love it.

Sit beside me in long moments of shared solitude,
knowing both our absolute aloneness and our undeniable belonging.
Dance with me in the silence and in the sound of small daily words,
holding neither against me at the end of the day.

And when the sound of all the declarations of our sincerest intentions
has died away on the wind, dance with me in the infinite pause
before the next great inhale of the breath that is breathing us all into being, not filling the emptiness from the outside or from within.

Don't say, "Yes!"
Just take my hand and dance with me.

excerpt from "The Dance" by Oriah Mountain Dreamer

It IS a nice thought...

Article 3 of the Geneva Convention

(In the case of armed conflict not of an international character occurring in the territory of one of the High Contracting Parties, each Party to the conflict shall be bound to apply, as a minimum, the following provisions:

(1) Persons taking no active part in the hostilities, including members of armed forces who have laid down their arms and those placed 'hors de combat' by sickness, wounds, detention, or any other cause, shall in all circumstances be treated humanely, without any adverse distinction founded on race, colour, religion or faith, sex, birth or wealth, or any other similar criteria. To this end, the following acts are and shall remain prohibited at any time and in any place whatsoever with respect to the above-mentioned persons:
(a) violence to life and person, in particular murder of all kinds, mutilation, cruel treatment and torture;
(b) taking of hostages;
(c) outrages upon personal dignity, in particular humiliating and degrading treatment;
(d) the passing of sentences and the carrying out of executions without previous judgment pronounced by a regularly constituted court affording all the judicial guarantees which are recognized as indispensable by civilized peoples.

(2) The wounded and sick shall be collected and cared for. An impartial humanitarian body, such as the International Committee of the Red Cross, may offer its services to the Parties to the conflict.

The Parties to the conflict should further endeavour to bring into force, by means of special agreements, all or part of the other provisions of the present Convention.

The application of the preceding provisions shall not affect the legal status of the Parties to the conflict.

Some of them deserve nothing better...

In case you were wondering...

In case you were wondering

Certain things catch your eye,

But pursue only those

that capture your heart.

What will you find beyond the fire ?

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting in your heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dreams, for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain.

I want to know if you can sit in pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own,if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tip of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, be realistic, or to remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn't interest me if the story you're telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself; if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul.

I want to know if you can be faithful and therefore be trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see beauty even when it is not pretty every day, and if you can source your life from God's presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of a lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, "Yes!"

It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have.

I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done for the children.

It doesn't interest me who you are, how you came to be here.

I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.

It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied.

I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone with yourself, and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.

By Oriah Mountain Dreamer (A Native American Elder)

There's one sad truth in life I've found
While journeying east and west -
The only folks we really wound
Are those we love the best.
We flatter those we scarcely know,
We please the fleeting guest,
And deal full many a thoughtless blow
To those who love us best.

poem: Ella Wheeler Wilcox
art: unknown

Meditations of Thorax:
Ignorance is nature's most abundantfuel for decision-making. Facts stifle the will, hobble conviction. It is impossible to arrive at a conclusion burdened by information. That explains why the most confident and willing judge is ignorance, why stupidity is the executioner - and why the press and the politicians pimp for both.

I find it disheartening that Cheney finds offense when newspapers print a story where in lies the truth. Cheney darlin' them terrorists ain't stupid - that you "might" be tracking their finances falls into the "DUH!" category. Too bad he wasn't offended by hunting (and shooting his friend in the face), and by cussing on television...

I am back....can you tell?

au revoir





















Je suis en vacances...
xx

Today is the summer solstice. It is also known as various other names including Litha, and Midsummer. On this day, in the Northern hemisphere it is the longest day of the year, and the shortest night; when the sun reaches his apex in the sky, and the days will now grow shorter. For North Americans 'summer' has barely started and the kids are just now getting out of school - today marks the official the first day of summer. The summer solstice marks Mid-summer for many cultures, because it is roughly the middle of the growing season in much of our northern hemisphere. In some lore Like Samhain, Litha (mid-summer) is a day when the boundaries between the worlds are thin, when mortals have strange experiences, and when otherworlders travel in our plane.

Honey and mead figure prominently in many Celtic traditional celebrations (at least in our home they did) Mead is a common term for an alcoholic beverage made from the fermentation of honey, it is produced like wine, and is also referred to as honeywine.
This however is not a tradition I have chosen to continue...as I have yet to taste a mead I like...but I'm open to the "never say die" concept, and will keep trying. (I also don't drink Scotch which my Scottish parents find almost sacrilegious...*laughs*)

I wish a Joyful Summer Solstice to all!

The Summer Sun Shone Round Me

THE summer sun shone round me,

The folded valley lay

In a stream of sun and odour,

That sultry summer day.

The tall trees stood in the sunlight

As still as still could be,

But the deep grass sighed and rustled

And bowed and beckoned me.

The deep grass moved and whispered

And bowed and brushed my face.

It whispered in the sunshine:

"The winter comes apace."

Robert Louis Stevenson

(photo credit: unknown)

HAPPY FATHER'S DAY!!!!

There's something like a line of gold thread running through a man's words
when he talks to his daughter, and gradually over the years it gets to be
long enough for you to pick up in your hands and weave into a cloth that
feels like love itself. ~John Gregory Brown, Decorations in a Ruined
Cemetery, 1994

I make the best Tabouli in the entire Universe!!! *pats self on back*

Happiness keeps You Sweet,
Trials keep You Strong,
Sorrows keep You Human,
Failures keeps You Humble,
Success keeps You Glowing,
But only Faith keeps You Going!

High Flight (an Airman's Ecstasy)

Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings.
Sunward I've climbed and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds - and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of - wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there,
I've chased the shouting wind along and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air
Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue
I've topped the windswept heights with easy grace
Where never lark, or even eagle flew.
And, while with silent, lifting mind I've trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.

John Gillespie Magee (1922-1941)
A Canadian Spitfire pilot in the Battle of Britan

"A Woman"

This is written in the Hebrew Talmud

It says:

"Be very careful if you make a woman cry, because God counts her tears.

The woman came out of a man's rib.

Not from his feet to be walked on.

Not from his head to be superior, but from the side to be equal.

Under the arm to be protected, and next to the heart to be loved."

why not indeed?

Others have seen what is and asked why. I have seen what could be and asked why not.

Pablo Picasso

I did not write this, and it does not describe my exact path.
I'm publishing it here as sadly I'm running into ignorance and the woefully misinformed.

An Open Letter from a Witch:

I am a witch. I do not worship Satan; I am not interested in Satan.
Satan was invented by the Christians. Satanism is a form of
Christianity. I am not a Christian. I don't go to church on Sunday.
Jesus is NOT my savior. He was simply a holy man who lived 2,000
years ago. I am not afraid of going to Hell because I don't believe
in Hell any more than I believe in Satan. I believe in reincarnation;
that I will come back to this world or another and live out another
life. I am not evil. Telling people I am a "good witch" or asking me
if I am a good witch implies that there are evil witches. There are
evil people in the world, and there are people who chose to work with
the forces of nature in a way that harms others; those people are NOT
witches. The central law of being a witch is: "if it harms none, do
as you will." Please don't ask me about sacrificing cats or
desecrating churches. I love my cats. And I don't go into churches or
synagogues unless a friend from that religion invites me to some
special occasion. And if I DO enter a church, I am not struck by
lightning. And if a Christian or a Jew or a Buddhist came to a pagan
ritual, our gods would not strike them dead either. Isn't that
something to think about?

Wearing a pentacle is no different than wearing a cross, crucifix, or
Star of David. If you want me to take off the symbol of MY religion
(and Wicca is a religion, protected by the same First Amendment
rights as other religions) because it's offensive, you need to make
everyone of every religion do that. The five points of the star
signify the four elements of Earth, Air, Fire & Water, and the fifth
point is Spirit; encircled by the World. How that can offend anyone
boggles my little pagan mind. An image of a tortured, dying man is
more offensive, yet thousands of people openly wear crucifixes every
day. Also, don't ask me if I'm in a "coven" in that half-horrified,
half-fascinated tone of voice. If I want to talk about my coven, I
will bring it up. If I am a solitary practitioner, I have no coven to
discuss. In any case, our rituals have candles, food, drink, poetry,
dancing...yes, there is a knife but it only cuts the air, not
anyone's flesh. I don't drink blood. I am not some kind of vampire. I
wear black because it keeps negativity away and because it looks
better on me than orange and purple polka dots.

If you want to ask me something related to MY religion, ask me when
the next full moon is. Or the next blue moon. Or what a blue moon IS.
Ask me about herbs. Crystals. Healing. Even ask me to make you a love
potion. But I don't cast spells on other people and I won't cast a
spell on you to make you prettier, thinner, more desirable. And I
won't cast a spell on your quarry to make him/her love you. Trust me,
you don't want that, you don't want the karma that involves, and
neither do I! That's a form of manipulation, taking away someone's
power, infringing on their free will. Not nice at all. And I also
won't cast a binding spell to make someone STOP doing something to
you. Spell work is about co-creation.

A witch works with universal energy, with the gods, to tilt the
engine of probability somewhat. Need money? Don't try to ensorcel
your boss to give you a raise. Simply ask the universe to increase
the flow of abundance in your direction. That infringes on NO ONE's
free will. One last thing: giving me a book about the Burning Times
is like giving a book on the Holocaust to a Jewish person. It's not
funny and is rude. Yes, I do go to Salem, but not because any of
those poor executed people were witches (I think the jury is still
out on some of them), but because there's cool pagan shops there. If
there were cool pagan shops in a town called East Cowflop, I'd go
there.

Please don't try to make me ashamed of who I worship and what I am.
Please don't try to convert me or "save" me. Don't throw holy water
on me. Don't leave little pamphlets on my desk or windshield. I don't
need to be saved. Witches are proud of the fact that we don't recruit
people to become witches. We simply ARE, and those around us see how
we think, how we act, and our inner peace, and only when someone
says "how do I become a witch?" do we take them into the fold with
us. I will NEVER leave a religious tract with anyone. I don't have
one, unless you count this letter. I am not asking you to convert. I
am only asking you to understand. If you don't want to understand,
just leave me alone.

Blessed Be,
A Witch

From the cutting room floor....

And God said, "Jeeze, this is dull." And it *was* dull. (Genesis 0:0)

And on the seventh day God went out and got totally shitfaced; and lo, He was liek doin bodyshots off of Gabriel and everything omg wtf?! (Gen 1:348)

make it all stop

from this day forth

this is my wish for you:

Comfort on difficult days,
Smiles when sadness intrudes,
Rainbows to follow the clouds,
Laughter to kiss your lips,
Sunsets to warm your heart,
Hugs when spirits sag,
Beauty for your eyes to see,
Friendships to brighten your being,
Faith so that you can believe,
Confidence for when you doubt,
Courage to know yourself,
Patience to accept the truth,
Love to complete your life.

(anonymous)

..and he danced for the sun

And while I stood there
I saw more than I can tell,
and I understood more than I saw;
for I was seeing in a sacred manner
the shapes of things in the spirit,
and the shape of all shapes as they must
live together like one being.
Black Elk, Black Elk Speaks

Hold on to what is good,
Even if it's a handful of earth.
Hold on to what you believe,
Even if it's a tree that stands by itself.
Hold on to what you must do,
Even if it's a long way from here.
Hold on to your life,
Even if it's easier to let go.
Hold on to my hand,
Even if someday
I'll be gone away from you.
Pueblo Indian Prayer

Dearest

Dearest,
Nothing about me is unique. I am the sum of the influences of each person I have met; each book I have read; each landscape and work of art I have observed; each song I have sung; and each word I have heard.
This journal contains words, songs, poems and pictures that catch my fancy, that make me pause, that force me to think, or that simply amuse me.
I am on a journey I don’t know the way – I cannot yet begin to guide you; however, I would be grateful for the company, even for a short way.
Namaste,
Nariane



“Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?” said Alice.
“That depends a great deal on where you want to get to.” said the cat.
“I don’t much care where-,” said Alice.
“Then it doesn’t much matter which way you go” said the cat.

Soon I will be here no more
You'll hear the tale
Through my blood
Through my people
And the eagle's cry
The bear within will never lay to rest

Wandering on Horizon Road
Following the trail of tears

Nightwish

thinking thinky things...

We are not fully-formed, static creatures; we are works in progress continually being made, and remade, by the consequences of our own chosen actions and inactions.

It is these choices, more than our talents and abilities that show us for what we truly are.

The first step to getting what we want to out of life is to simply decide what we want. It’s not always easy; the more alternatives we have, the more difficult the choice.

I think that one of the primary core components of human growth is realization of human choice; in making choices we learn to live with decisions and consequences and we learn who we really are.

What do you think?

Also consider this…if someone is incapable of doing evil. Can they be ‘good’? They have not chosen the higher path; they simply were not capable of any other course of action.

My grandmother once said that a witch that cannot curse also cannot cure; a person must acknowledge the darkness in order to acknowledge the light.

If someone is capable of evil, but chooses another course of action, doesn’t that put them on a higher path; making them “good” as they’ve chosen to harm none?

Thoughts?

The most wasted of all days is one without laughter.

A family took their frail, elderly mother to a nursing home and admitted her, hoping she would be well cared for.

The next morning, the nurses bathed her, fed her a tasty breakfast, and set her in a chair at a window overlooking a lovely flower garden.

She seemed okay, but after a while she slowly started to tilt sideways in her chair. Two attentive nurses immediately rushed up to catch her and straighten her up.

Again she seemed okay, but after a while she slowly started to tilt over to her other side. The nurses rushed back and once more brought her back upright. This went on all morning.

Later, the family arrived to see how the old woman was adjusting to her new home.

"So Ma, how is it here? Are they treating you all right?"

"It's pretty nice," she replied. "Everyone here is so nice and helpful. There's only one problem."

"What is it Ma?"

"They won''t let me fart"