In the company of friends whether it be one or a hundred -- when I am with the people who I trust and who I know support my presence, I am home.

I feel free all over the place -- when I am behind my computer, writing, connecting with myself and others, creating hidden worlds and characters I did not know existed within me --  when I am spending time with my granddaughter in the presence of complete love  -- when I am driving down a road and a flock of geese with their goslings are trying to cross a busy intersection because we built a road right over the spot where they have been crossing for hundreds of years, I feel perfectly free to halt my vehicle and calmly wait out the honking horns behind me to watch them cross safely --  when I am confronted by an angry person anywhere, I luxuriate in the freedom to choose my response -- when loving words and kindness come my way, I luxuriate in the freedom to choose my response.

my great-great grandchildren . . . they would be the grandchildren of this darling little girl who is right now only 7 years old . . .

I would be the judge of sunrises and sunsets. In judging the sunrise, I would determine if my day can be as beautiful or surpass the magnificence of the earth swirling in space to bring me face to face with that which brings light to life. Even on a cloudy day, I would sentence myself to honoring that life exists in spectacular glory even if I don't always witness it. In judging the sunset, I would examine my thoughts, actions, and feelings of the day and determine if I met my own expectations . . . did I serve my sentence well? Did I honor my life by living it to the best of my ability?

I cling to my independence ferociously . . . not always a swell idea when I am overwhelmed and outnumbered by life. Slowly, I am learning to trust that the best right people for me are in my life right now and they want to be a part of my independence so we will all be independent together!

Awareness.

Breath is the constant reminder of physical mortality . . . it comes and goes like life and death. I am always reminded of my temporary human existence with each breath.

that any of this is real . . . or are we just making it up as we go along? if so, since we created this mess (which may or may not be real), can we create something just a little bit better for everyone each day? since I believe we are all One, a part of everything that exists, being good to ourselves in a way that does not diminish others is a great place to start.

that I am here now . . . that I am loved . . . that I continue . . . and that this existence is the best mystery ever . . .

Sleep and I tend to wrestle the night away . . . neither of us are deeply attached to each other and when we meet, it is for short, nocturnal conversations and symbolic adventures into some deeper part of me that finds the dark the safest place to connect.

Okay, after thinking about it all day, I have decided I want to be famous for being the most anonymous famous person ever.

I am open to the possibility that a miracle will occur for me by morning . . . it is not that I am searching for the miracle, but rather it is searching for me.

knowing more than I knew before in a way I never knew I could know it

Damage implies that something is wrong . . . that something is not the way it should be or that something is the way it should not be. All things rise and fall. Even in their rising, plants disturb the ground they break. In their falling, trees disturb the life around them and may even crush the unwary. My birth damaged my mother. I have been damaged by relationships that ultimately set me free to find the best ones of my life. All that exists is damaged to arise into something new.

My illusion about reality -- now I know for sure it does not exist, but is waiting for me to create it.

anything that leaves me wordless  . . . you know the wordless place; everyone does; it is that nanosecond of time when your attention is so in tune with whatever just occurred -- whatever you might have just heard, read, seen, or experienced -- and it has grabbed at a special spot in your body that is normally quiet and serene; that spot stirs within you, suddenly restless, unwilling to remain silent, yet it has no words to communicate with; it has only a feeling, a sensation, a nudge of movement, and you can no more tell anyone what it is saying than you could flap your arms and fly to the moon, but you know what it means.

Universal transformation

a  sparkling white soft knit shirt and a black cat shedding her winter fur

 

Pain (physical, mental, emotional, spiritual, whatever) is an indicator that I have cut off from me . . . blocked my flow of energy - the energy of well-being, love, inspiration, kindness, health, transformation - any energy that will take me from here to there; my pain can feel sharp, burning, clutching, sad, numb, bewildered, afraid, jagged, and it is all uncomfortable for a reason: to get my attention.

It is sending me the message that I believe something is wrong and often when I look at the source of my pain, that is where it has originated - in my thoughts, my expectations, my illusions - I believe something is wrong. Physical pain indicates that something in my body needs attention. I have to stop and look at exactly what needs attention and what kind of attention do I need? For physical injuries, I probably need some kind person with a medical degree who knows how to treat the injury. It is not like I am going to stop and analyze and resolve the underlying issue to my injury right then (for example, when I set my thumb on fire with one of those sparklers we light up during the 4^th of July, it was very evident from the golf ball size blister that visiting someone with burn treatment expertise would be a wise investment of my time and money). Other pain, like a headache, many times means I need sleep, a massage, less thinking, or a long, long walk in silence.

Sometimes, pain is a gift. That blaze of rocketing flame in my chest might indicate a heart attack. The same flame dying and leaving an empty spot when a friend, a lover, or a daughter has left opens up new possibilities, even though at the time, I may not want to admit it.  

I am on fire today - all my similes and metaphors and examples indicate something is ready to be cooked, heated, warmed, lit, or incinerated.

Happiness feels as if I am complete.

I want to give up my need to want.

jump for joy; camp out and be happy; scrounge the dump; offer to relieve people of the junk they sell at garage sales for a small fee . . . oh . . . wait . . . who am I kidding? No one owns anything! It is all just on temporary loan.

I don't think anyone can "make" me happy -- happiness must come from within me. I believe that others can contribute to my happiness in their being in my life because I so enjoy the people I love. My kitty, my home, my family, my job, my hobbies . . . all of these contribute to my happiness, but if they were all to disappear tomorrow, I would still find the ability to be happy within myself.

A box of chocolates also helps.

My self-esteem is fairly selfish and self-serving. It believes that I deserve to live in the best world possible at all times with people who are living to the best of their abilities, happy, joyful, considerate, and caring for others, all giving of themselves so that everyone has what they need. My self-esteem demands that I and others share our tragedies and sadness so that everyone can carry some of the weight -- no one should be alone with their sorrow. We all need to remind each other that there will always be a new season to turn to.

Challenge. Reaching for something that appears just beyond my current ability to have makes me look for new and innovative ways to get there. And it does not have to be a huge challenge . . . it can be something as simple as twisting a new phrase into greater meaning, finding a more scenic route to work, or how to make more spectacular meals with a reduced budget. There are greater challenges -- like how do I find what makes me feel good when struggling with the aftermath of  post-concussive syndrome that seems to flatten my ability to feel good? How can I better let go of negative thinking and create more positive thoughts? What new world can I help create?

The noise in my own head . . . our brains are programmed to instantaneously respond to stimuli. Only our awareness of that fact can keep me from running my mouth constantly and physically smacking anyone who says something I disagree with. I know that when someone starts talking to me, my brain is beginning to formulate a response and it sometimes requires that I get meditative in my listening so that I can really hear what the other person is saying. In other words, I make the other person's words my thought and wait until he or she is finished speaking; then, I reiterate what I heard them say to make sure we both heard the same thing. Note that I only do this when having a normal conversation (or even an argument) with someone. If someone intentionally means me harm and my brain is telling me to get the hell out, I am going to listen to me first, them later.

The second part of listening is listening to our selves give us the wisdom we know we need but often don't want to follow. We often want to follow the crowd, do what will please others and make us acceptable, even when we know it is not good for us. Learning to listen to that deeper knowledge is sometimes harder than listening to other people, but I know it is the same stupid noise in my own head that is in the way. Thank you very much, ego, and goodnight.

I would be really really really . . . really worried about my well-being. I am so independent and actually scared silly to even think that I would be dependent upon others. This might be a good practice for me: if I were blind, what people would I like to have in my life?

 a quiet blessing, if I base the experience on 90% of the noise I hear around me; on the other hand, my granddaughter's chirping is a song in my heart, and I would miss the warmth in voices of friends on the telephone calling me to come join them in some fun; while I could live without most of the music on the radio these days, I would miss the Beatles and the Travelling Wilburys; then there is that cat's meow greeting me as I get home each day; this question calls to mind (as does yesterday's question about blindness) the idea that I am blind and deaf to myself sometimes, and even when I do see and hear, sometimes I do not heed and listen.

 

My words create my world. That is all I need to know.

Being quiet and still . . . filling my time with nothing to do except be in the moment. I might write or draw or paint or just listen to music. I might sit on my flower deck garden and watch the plants grow . . . or watch the birds breathe. We are always in motion anyway -- even in our stillness, our hearts beat, our lungs inhale and exhale, our brains twitter with a thousand electrical impulses. I want to be more aware of those movements.