Life's Unfettered Joy

And, herein lies Life’s fullest demonstration

 of unfettered Joy …

 

I happily share this Image with You, Dear Reader and Friend, in celebration of the Love that is so obviously experienced between my darling Brittany Brother, Christophe, and the Delight of his Soul, his Daughter, Rose.

My thanks to you, Christophe, for allowing me to share in the ecstasy of this beautiful Moment in your life.

My love to All in this sweet Season of Loving.

A Lovely Gift

Those who pay heed to such things will notice that I have not posted any personal reflections for quite some time. The reason is simple. My Soul had no song to sing.

That changed yesterday.

As I accompanied my sister, Linda, in her quest for Christmas tree ornaments (in a nearby crafts store), a lovely Gift appeared. Her Presence was as that of a visitation by an extraordinary tropical bird. Such an overwhelming loveliness that I was instantly smitten.

And, just as is true of that likened bird, she was completely comfortable with her Being. Her smile communicated a gentle, tender, and totally unassuming harmony with her place in her world.

I made a clumsy attempt at thanking her for that Gift, of her smile. Then wrote, and gave to her, a note (on the reverse of a calling card) expressing my appreciation for her Presence.

Just as is true of that metaphorical bird, I do hope that, in future, she will make an appearance in my life. For, truth be told, I have repeatedly had the thought that nothing could possible be better than to greet each day in the company of such grace and loveliness. And, just as is so with the aforementioned ‘bird,’ I would never want to, in any way, restrain, inhibit, threaten, or discourage the possibility of such an appearance.

I am so happy that I have learned how to embrace Life’s offerings of beauty. To be open to acknowledgement of and expression of appreciation for these marvelous Gifts makes the beginning of my third trimester of life something exciting and inviting.

So, my dear and faithful Reader, today I sing a song of delighted joy as I thank the Author of all that is good, for the exquisite Gift of this lovely person into my little world. Such beautiful Bliss!

(By the way, Linda and I had an absolute blast together! Neither of us enjoys shopping. But, together, we had great fun. She is a wonderful sister. [And she agreed with me in my admiration of yesterday’s Gift.]) [smile]

Frightened

"There are kids underneath my bed,"

Cried little baby monster Fred.

Momma monster smiled. "Oh, Fred,

There's no such things as kids," she said.

Shel Silverstein

The Pure Soul

"The pure soul shall mount on native wings,

disdaining little sport,

and cut a path into the heaven of glory,

leaving a track of light for men to wonder at."

William Blake

Rarest and Most Precious Human Talent

“… Parnell McCarthy possessed the rarest and most precious of human talents … a talent so elusive that it receded only the faster before those who wooed it with more gadgets and toys: the capacity for participation and joy, the enviable ability to draw vast pleasure and enjoyment from small occasions and simple things.

For all the old man’s show of cynicism, he possessed the sense of wonder of a small boy flying a kite.”

Robert Traver
“Anatomy of a Murder”

Oasis

A tiny Oasis isn't a beach holiday ...

But it will help you make it through the Desert.

John-Michael
11 Aug 2011

Fixing Congress

The 26th amendment (granting the right to vote for 18 year-olds) took only 3 months & 8 days to be ratified!

Why?

Simple! The people demanded it. That was in 1971 ... before computers, before e-mail, before cell phones, etc.


Of the 27 amendments to the Constitution, seven (7) took 1 year or less to become the law of the land ... all because of public pressure.

Here is an idea that I have long-believed should be implemented. And I am grateful for having been a recipient of it in this consolidated form. So I am sharing it with you, Dear Reader, in the hope that you will apply whatever pressures you are inclined to use on your elected Congresspersons.



Congressional Reform Act of 2011

1. No Tenure / No Pension.

A Congressperson collects a salary while in office and receives no pay when they are out of office.


2. Congress (past, present & future) participates in Social Security.


All funds in the Congressional retirement fund move to the Social Security system immediately. All future funds flow into the Social Security system, and Congress participates with the American people.

It may not be used for any other purpose.


3. Congress can purchase their own retirement plan, just as all Americans do.


4. Congress will no longer vote, for themselves, a pay raise. Congressional pay will rise by the lower of CPI or 3%.


5. Congress loses their current health care system and participates in the same health care system as the American people.


6. Congress must equally abide by all laws they impose on the American people.


7. All contracts with past and present Congresspersons are void effective 1/1/12.


The American people did not make this current contract with Congresspersons. Congresspersons made all these contracts for themselves. Serving in Congress is an honor, not a career. The Founding Fathers envisioned citizen legislators, so ours should serve their term(s), then go home and back to work.


I do believe this a healthy step toward appropriate Accountability and just Service. I thank you for your consideration of it.

Time For a little "Feel Good!"

(I invite you to enhance your enjoyment of the video [below] with an understanding of the meaning of the Lyrics.)

Satchita Translation
(verses in Portuguese and Choruses in Indian Sanskrit)

Ask God,

That men find their lost steps
That dreams wake up sleepy eyes,
That love overflows and that we live in peace
That days end with tired arms
That luck strive to be on your side
That pain should not astound me
Or make me restless,

Ask God.

Sat - The formless
Chit - Consciousness of the universe
Ananda- Pure love, bliss and joy
Para brahma --The supreme creator
Purushothama -Who has incarnated in human form to help guide mankind
Paramatma -Who comes to me in my heart, and becomes my inner voice whenever I ask
Sri Bhagavate - The divine mother, the power aspect of creation
Same tha- Together within
Sri Bhagavate -The Father of creation which is unchangeable and permanent
Namaha- I thank you and acknowledge this presence in my life. I ask for your guidance at all times
Om - We are calling on the highest energy, of all there is

Ask God,

To send us from the sky a lot of wisdom
a true love, that nobody goes hungry
a brotherly hug, that we live in peace
That wars be ended and poverty too
That we find happiness among so much sorrow
That light enlighten lost souls,
And a better future

A Better Man | Playing For Change featuring Keb' Mo'

'Should you notice me singing to myself (which I often do) as I amble through the Market, the chances are pretty good that this is what I am singing ...



I challenge you to try to be "Down" with this song on your Heart! [loving smile]

Sanctuary

Physical necessities insist on attention … but they can be negotiated with. All in the cause of prolonging the playing out of my Mind’s morning exercise. Something akin to Watching an altogether engaging Movie that is filled with distinct Elements ... all having meaning, significance, and relevance to my Life Experience.

For these Elements are all, indeed, bits and pieces of my accumulation of those Aspects of life that have been allowed, by my election, to be part of my personal, individual Awareness. Persons of particular import to me … women and men with even the briefest of influence … celebrities who have nudged a bit of space into my sensibilities (this morning found Steve Martin making a cameo appearance. Top shelf Talent free of any requirement of Royalties or Compensation. How cool is that?!)

Is it any wonder that, from my earliest of recollection, I have resisted the termination of a night’s sleep … in response to the rude demands of a new day … a whole new set of “input” to be processed (under the pressure of unsympathetic circumstances and players.) Be it School, Work, or simply daily interaction with the Stuff of ordinary life, my right-lobe/image–oriented and spatially inclined brain has been confronted with a world that unfolds in accordance with a left-lobe/data, and impulse driven tempo.

The result is that I know, from my first awakening that I am in for another day of frustrated attempts at coping with an insensitive world’s expectations and demands. And my only hope for any opportunity, to gain a safe place to sort it all out, and make some coherent sense of it all … to have some “processing time” … my only respite from the outer-world’s treadmill pace … will be in the sanctuary of my wonderful Chamber of peaceful contemplation ...

my Dreams.

Louis Armstrong - what a wonderful world

It has been a while since we enjoyed a Moment made sacred by the Spirit and Message of this Heavenly Gift.

I feel like it ... Now ...

I love You Aims!

One Picture

One Picture that illustrates all of One's inner sense of Self, Life, and Experience ...

This is mine ...

Winslow Homer (American, 1836–1910). The Fog Warning, 1885. Oil on canvas. 76.83 x 123.19 cm (30 1/4 x 48 1/2 in.). Otis Norcross Fund, 1894.
© Museum of Fine Arts, Boston

We laughed!

We laughed!

‘Twas an easy, natural, and quite unrestrained laughter of mutual sharing and agreement.

There was no joke, story, or rational instigator of our gaiety. I do recall the tattered remains of curtains fluttering from glassless windows in that long-abandoned factory across the waterway. Though neither of us spoke of them, we seemed to silently agree that those threadbare flags from yesteryear were mocking us and toying with our Moment. And that was reason enough for us to join in the frivolity offered.

There we were … sitting at one of those ubiquitous patio tables with its requisite umbrella touting some unremembered brand of beverage ... under a crystalline-clear sky that reached to Forever. On an outing whose whose hilarity was pre-ordained by its beginning with the ill-conceived attempt at concealing all 6 feet 2 inches of the "Rogue Yank" (Me) in the back seat of a small compact car; under a blanket. (Did I mention the delightfully warm July day?) What a hoot!

The al fresco setting created from what had been the roof of an old church, now reborn as a trendy restaurant cum bistro, was our lovely discovery for lunch. Our view was of an industrial waterway flanked by yet-unrecycled warehouses and/or factories. I am sure that the starry-eyed developers would have had us see the transplanted images of the Thames/Siene/Danube (you get the idea.) [smile] And we were blessed with a delicious breeze that mitigated the Summer warmth ... and provided the energy for the aforementioned curtains' display.

Then there, there was that abandoned relic of a structure with its empty windows … empty, save those tongue-wagging old curtains. We took it all in … took each other in … and, suddenly; it was all so wonderfully grand! Ahhh!

I know no other instance of such unbridled and pure joy as those celebrated with her. Trust, respect, affection, and appreciation were ours … beyond measure. There, in the beauty of that timeless, other-worldly Moment, we knew unfettered freedom and ecstasy in a Comfort and Bliss borne of honest and pure adoration. It was … and will forever remain … heavenly.

I offer my heartfelt “Thank You!” to the Giver, of all that is good and perfect, for that marvelous Gift. It remains, these twenty-three years later, still as fresh and vitally new as it was then.

Oh! How sweet … the Laughter!

Eternity ... Heaven & Hell

Eternity (n.)
Infinite duration, without beginning in the past or end in the future
(Webster’s Revised Unabridged Dictionary [1913])


“Do you believe” I could ask, “in Eternity?” And I have a fair sense of confidence that I would receive an affirmative response from the majority of whomever I offer the question. So, neither beginning nor end … yep! That is how I know it to be myself.

Only makes the most rudimentary of sense that I celebrate this moment, in our shared Eternity, with you. This is our Heaven, if we so elect. Heaven being the Reality of living in the Presense of, and willingly choosing the direction of that loving Creator of all that has ever been … and will ever be. ‘Tis certain that Hell would be opting to live this moment in the elected absence of the influence and care of the “I Am.”

So, my Precious reader, I thank you for your heavenly Presence … here, in our Eternal Moment.

I love You! (Another 'Heavenly choice.") [smile]

Pamela Murphy ... a Marvelous Being

Pamela Murphy, widow of WWII hero and actor, Audie Murphy, died peacefully at her home on April 8, 2010. She was the widow of the most decorated WWII hero and actor, Audie Murphy, and established her own distinctive 35-year career working as a patient liaison at the Sepulveda Veterans Administration hospital, treating every veteran who visited the facility as if they were a VIP.

Any soldier or Marine who came into the hospital got the same special treatment from her. She would walk the hallways with her clipboard in hand making sure her boys got to see the specialist they needed.

If they didn't, watch out. Her boys weren't Medal of Honor recipients or movie stars like Audie, but that didn't matter to Pam. They had served their country. That was good enough for her. She never called a veteran by his first name. It was always "Mister." Respect came with the job.

"Nobody could cut through VA red tape faster than Mrs. Murphy," said veteran Stephen Sherman, speaking for thousands of veterans she befriended over the years. "Many times I watched her march a veteran who had been waiting more than an hour right into the doctor's office. She was even reprimanded a few times, but it didn't matter to Mrs. Murphy. "Only her boys mattered. She was our angel."

Audie Murphy died broke in a plane crash in 1971, squandering millions of dollars on gambling, bad investments, and yes, other women. "Even with the adultery and desertion at the end, he always remained my hero," Pam told me.

She went from a comfortable ranch-style home in Van Nuys where she raised two sons to a small apartment - taking a clerk's job at the nearby VA to support herself and start paying off her faded movie star husband's debts. At first, no one knew who she was. Soon, though, word spread through the VA that the nice woman with the clipboard was Audie Murphy's widow. It was like saying General Patton had just walked in the front door. Men with tears in their eyes walked up to her and gave her a hug.

"Thank you," they said, over and over.

The first couple of years, I think the hugs were more for Audie's memory as a war hero. The last 30 years, they were for Pam.

One year I asked her to be the focus of a Veteran's Day column for all the work she had done. Pam just shook her head no. "Honor them, not me," she said, pointing to a group of veterans down the hallway. "They're the ones who deserve it." The vets disagreed. Mrs. Murphy deserved the accolades, they said.

Incredibly, in 2002, Pam's job was going to be eliminated in budget cuts. She was considered "excess staff." "I don't think helping cut down on veterans' complaints and showing them the respect they deserve, should be considered excess staff," she told me. Neither did the veterans. They went ballistic, holding a rally for her outside the VA gates. Pretty soon, word came down from the top of the VA. Pam Murphy was no longer considered "excess staff."

She remained working full time at the VA until 2007 when she was 87.

"The last time she was here was a couple of years ago for the conference we had for homeless veterans," said Becky James, coordinator of the VA's Veterans History Project. Pam wanted to see if there was anything she could do to help some more of her boys. Pam Murphy was 90 when she died last week. What a lady.

Dennis McCarthy, Los Angeles Times on April 15, 2010 ~

Medal of Honor

Distinguished Service Cross


Silver Star (with oak leaf cluster)

Legion of Merit

Bronze Star (with oak leaf cluster and Valor device)

Purple Heart (with two oak leaf clusters)

U.S. Army Outstanding Civilian Service Medal

U.S. Army Good Conduct Medal

Presidential Unit Citation (with First Oak Leaf Cluster)

American Campaign Medal

European-African-Middle Eastern Campaign Medal (with One Silver Star, Four Bronze Service Stars (representing nine campaigns) and one Bronze Arrowhead (representing assault landing at Sicily and Southern France))

World War II Victory Medal

Army of Occupation Medal (with Germany Clasp)

Armed Forces Reserve Medal

French Fouragère in Colors of the Croix de guerre

French Legion of Honor - Grade of Chevalier

French Croix de guerre (with Silver Star)

French Croix de guerre (with Palm)

Medal of Liberated France

Belgian Croix de guerre (with 1940 Palm)

The Combat Infantry Badge

I cannot help but arrive at my own personal conclusion, my Dear Reader …

It seems to me that this Dear Lady’s being who she was … outweighed all of the accumulated awards, bestowed upon her husband, for all of his doing, of all that he did.

I am blessed to know, and have, in the past known, a few, very heroic, noble, and brave Individuals who fight daily battles with courage and effort equal to that of the most celebrated and decorated of Warriors. They will never receive any medals ... and, alas, they rarely enjoy even the most elementary of acknowledgement or notice.

Yet, it is my sincere conviction that they are crowned with a glory that surpasses the most bejeweled of crowns. They can face themselves and Eternity with the firm and solid confidence that they have given all that they had at their command for the highest and noblest of callings. They have given, and give, themselves, to Being all that they can Be. I salute them!

Pamela Murphy's story is yet another instance of One’s Being all that One can Be … having far more eternal merit than all of the most celebrated of Doings.

But, then again, that is merely my own perspective.

Lovingly,
Your constant Friend and humblest of Servants,
John-Michael

My sincere "Thank You" to Carole for sharing this lovely story with me.