Prelude to "The Magician's Blanket"

My wife asked me (more than once) why I felt compelled to tell my world about all that was most personal and private in my life. I remember, quite clearly, responding with something closely akin to “My experiences are the only things that I am the authority on. Only I can speak of the intricate details and elements that surround my experiences. And if any part of what I have lived can be used by anyone to make their life easier, less painful, better understood, or more enjoyable or happier … then I will not exercise some sense of protective selfishness in denying that person, or those persons, a gentler, more satisfying, or joyful moment in their pilgrimage. This is all that I am capable of giving … and I will not hesitate in giving it.” My answer did not assuage her desire to cloister her life from the knowing of others. But that is her choice. You, Dear Reader, know mine.

That said, I am responding to the urging of Lady Muse … and giving, here, some of the details surrounding my earlier “The Magician’s Blanket” post.

Breakfast at our favorite Diner had been previously planned … and (after my morning run) it was there that I went (still wearing perspiration soaked sweat-clothes) and found my business Partner in a booth with two young ladies.

“Here we go again!” I thought. Knowing my Partner to be the most charismatic and accomplished “Gamer” that I had ever met (and he still, to this day, holds that ‘distinction’), there was no shock at seeing him fully engaged in his favorite sport.

He introduced me to the two … one, the glamorous and finely turned out woman who was obviously accustomed to being the center of attention … the other, a very pretty young woman who was the filling the role as “companion to the Looker” that I too was familiar with in my social and business engagements with my associate and friend.

So, here we were … the two of them happily playing their well-rehearsed, and finely polished, game with each other (something akin to two creatures strutting their finery at the peak of mating season … determining whether there would be a conjugal conclusion that would be chalked up as one more on their sizable scorecards) … and the two sidekicks who had heard and seen it all far more times than could be tallied.

She and I said little … quiet looks exchanged … smiles and rolling of eyes that said volumes of understood knowing.

Then the two leading characters in our little play decided to move the production to the apartment that the two girls shared. It seemed that they planned to move to a new address in the near future. Mister Mover (pun intended) suggested that he and I (my participation was an easily assumed given [in his estimation]) wanted to survey the size and scope of the proposed move (the furniture, and etcetera … not the unspoken, but well understood ‘move’ that both he and she were sparring around). Thus we left the diner. Mister Smooth and Miss Glamour in his new, sporty, and very trendy car … and (by default) the two attachés in the second car.

Much like two ‘Seconds’ at a duel or sporting event, She and I accompanied our ‘Star Players’ as they continued their jocular joust.

But this time … something new and unanticipated was happening ... the magic of a drawing bond between us. It was first evidenced by our gently, quietly, and quite naturally taking each other’s hand as we walked to the car. We attributed it to the cold and our need to share some warmth. It was so appropriate and right that we continued holding each others' hand throughout the ride to the apartment.

Then, as The Two continued their ongoing sport, the two of us sat next to each other on the earlier-mentioned sofa … and talked. I still remember (these 30+ years later) what we talked about. This unassuming and delicate creature enjoyed her weekends driving a huge, four-wheel-drive pickup truck in “mud-boggin” competitions. I was amazed! And appalled. The thought of people purposefully abusing and misusing equipment and/or machinery was something that I could not countenance. My Dad had programmed me to respect, care for, pamper, and always protect all things of mechanical or technical nature. I could not fathom someone going into a deep mud-filled swamp with a beautiful piece of finely engineered machinery and, with intent and forethought, try to see how much abuse and challenge they could get their truck to survive. So, we talked, at length, about every aspect of this avocation. She was as amazed at my concern for her truck … and for her personal safety and well-being. An invisible chamber, of private seclusion, formed around us, as we shared perspectives.

It was quite cold in the apartment … so we employed the blanket spoken of in the earlier post. Then, after a while of celebrating the silent, yet eloquent, communication that can be known in holding hands (something that I will yearn for ‘til my last breath) ... without words, a kiss.

The noise of silliness coming from the others became almost an embarrassment … so we pulled the blanket up … over our heads … and formed the magical cocoon that I have spoken of. The rest I have already shared. (Save our, eventually, agreeing that we should go upstairs and “survey the bedroom furnishings” in keeping with the advertised purpose of our being there.) [conspiratorial grin] The Two were so wrapped up in their game that they assumed that their sidecar parties were simply attending to the mundanities that fringed their superficial frolics. (And we quietly giggled our appreciation of their self-absorption.)

So there, Dear Friends, is what is oft referred to as “The Rest of The Story.”

When I received an unexpected invitation to be a Friend (on a social networking site) to a lovely young woman, who I met recently, I happily agreed. She had made a very notable impression on me at our meeting. Beyond her obvious beauty, there was an evident depth of character … and something that rang familiar about her. So, I visited her profile … and was moved by a stirring that was profound and not understood. This 'stirring' kept me awake all night, with a powerful force that was beyond my understanding. It was most unsettling!

Then, in the stillness of early morning … with my first pot of coffee … it all came back. It was a bit over thirty years ago … this moment in my past … but crystalline clear. And I began to understand the similarities in my new friend, which brought that past treasure into my present.

I had met the young lady in question at a gathering of a group of friends … in a place that was very active and energetic … and she was a still pond in the midst of an active sea. There was a depth that was neither presumptuous nor disattached about her. … just as that precious woman had quietly and oh-so-beautifully displayed on that morning … so long ago.

And, on that morning of my recollection, as I recognized who my new friend reminded me of, I was engulfed in the the tsunami of recall that washed over me. It was overwhelming! And, at this writing … four days later … I am still dealing with tears welling up in waves of tender emotion and remembering. Sweet tears that taste of delight and peaceful joy. What a gift!

So, there you are, Dear Reader and Friend. I know not what benefit may be known, by some unknown Individual, from these revelations from my Library of Memory. But, trusting in the wisdom of my unfailing Lady Muse, and in keeping with that life commitment expressed to my former wife, I lay it all out there for the use of whomever may find some encouragement, insight, understanding, or even entertainment, in it. For, ‘tis still true that “My experience is all that I have to offer this world that I live in.”

And I do so … in love. [smile]

The "Why" Behind "The Cost"

Here, I am sharing a bit of a “peek” behind the veil of what You would usually know. It is customary for you to see whatever I post … and nothing of the pre-posting thought or considerations, nor any of the post-posting reflections. After publishing the little thing about “The Cost,” I was having a not-too-frequent moment of questioning. “Why” I asked myself, “do you even go into those ponderous areas of philosophical and oh-so-burdensome topics?” And (as has, so frequently, been the case) my precious Lady Muse delivered (in tangible and real-time form) Life’s answer to my frustrated uncertainties.

I (just a few hours ago) received a phone call from a Friend. She shared with me some updates of inconsequential and usual stuff about her life’s goings on … and then, as if in after-thought, something that rang the bell of my needed reassurance. She told me that she and her eldest son had read the “The Cost” piece … together. Then he and she went fishing … (He [who has no fondness for fishing … let alone the mandatory handling of those wriggling worms used for bait] caught five fish … she [who is an avid (if not maniacal) fisherwoman, caught none. (teehee) But I digress.) … and they, whilst in the leisurely enjoyment of five hours of midnight-to-five AM fishing, had a discussion of what they had read together. In the course of their discussion, she was delightfully reassured of her son’s grasp of his personal sense of responsibility, for seeing to it that he invest, all of himself, in living a life of full satisfaction, and enjoyment … through an awareness, and appreciation, of his innate gifts, and abilities.

This was a huge thing for her. For, in August, this son is to be off, to far-away Oklahoma, to pursue his post-graduate degrees in his chosen field. Knowing that he has such a firm grip on the foundational precepts of a personal responsibility, for a healthy, productive, and happy future, gives her a wonderful sense of comfort and peace.

“There!” my Lady Muse said. “There is your demonstration of Life’s loving wisdom in ,motivating you to share your thoughts and feelings in that piece. You took some of that ‘compost’ of your past … and let Life apply it around that developing young life. Ya done OK, John-Michael! Now lighten up!” And, I am thusly, quite nicely, reassured. Hence, I have had those nagging doubts and hesitations about my seeming propensity for writing about such “heavy” and cumbersome considerations, allayed. And, because I do enjoy making You, Dear reader, privy to all that is the Truth of who I am, and why I am … I am now sharing, with You, this peek into something of the “why” in my doing so.

And, as always, it is my intent to serve you well, as your faithful Friend, and ever-willing Servant.

An Alternative View

In the course of the past week, I have had two, of the dearest people in my life, ask me heart-felt questions borne of similar circumstances in their respective lives. I have, separately, and individually, responded to each as my Lovely Muse has directed and encouraged me to. But, as we know all too well from past experience, She does not allow any matter of Life and living to pass away without lingering consideration and lessons. So, my Dear (and persevering) Reader, I share what continues to inhabit my mind with You.

Both of my lovely Friends are lamenting, and seeking healthy and constructive ways to deal with, the insidious (though quite natural) ravages of time and wear on the health and lives of Parents. It seems that both of these Parental Figures are frustrated and discouraged with their respective health problems. And their Spirits have lost what had been, heretofore, joyous and enthusiastic outlooks and attitudes. My one Friend asked for help in “finding” her Mother. She is seeking a way to recapture and breathe new vigour into the energy levels and perceptual powers of her Mom. She is saddened by the presence of a wearied and dispirited woman who was “only yesterday” a font of liveliness and creative intensity. My second Friend asked that I suggest a way for her to help her Dad (who, as a result of several recent strokes and the onset of Alzheimer’s disease, is not faring well) to find a renewed and invigorated Faith and sense of imminent Wellness.

Though I offered completely separate, and seemingly different ideas to these two caring and loving Daughters, I am, now, seeing a harmony in the theme of what I brought to them. To the first, I suggested activities that would engage the Daughter, the Grandchildren, and the Mother in exercises of revisiting and celebrating memories of past moments of enjoyment and accomplishment … while recording them in some tangible forms that would provide an indelible record of and resource for revisiting the memories. To the second Daughter, I brought the thought of bringing her Dad a new and fresh view of his life and circumstance through eyes and perspectives of others (including the Daughter) who have a concrete and realistic awareness of Beauties and Possibilities, stolen (by the pains and disconsolations of his illness) from her Father.

And, I now realize that I have suggested, to both of these exceptional women … the same basic thing. A different way of sensing Life’s elements. See it all differently. Guide your Loved One in discovering the Optional (for it is readily available … at our option) Awareness. Smell the Fragrance that is hidden behind the stench of the Obvious. Feel the Comforts that lie behind the curtain of Pain’s insistence. Engage in all that seems repugnant and worthy of discard. I am suggesting something that runs contrary to all that seems natural and “normal.” Embrace these aspects of Life and Living! For they are natural and worthy of respectful consideration. Just see the beauty that is hidden in their potentials. Do not allow the ultimate Monster of Fear to cripple your steps along this part of Life’s pathway. Know the victory of pushing away Fear’s blinders … to permit Life to illuminate new vistas.

I know that my enthusiastic enjoyment of the fragrance of the pungency of decaying organic matter … would seem to be strange (at the very best … if not, weird) to those who are ‘turned off’ by what they consider the stench of “rot.” But I find encouragement in the magic of Life’s reminder that nothing passes away without offering new life, in the form of composted nourishment, through the “passing away” of what was Before. So, I find genuine enjoyment in walking through bogs and swamplands. And the fragrance of that “passing away” is the nectar of new life and rebirth.

Whilst I listen to others of my generation bemoaning the loss of their former levels of physical and emotional abilities … I relish the wonder of the “fermentation” of my past experiences and circumstances into what I have determined to transform into a “vintage” that will give satisfaction and joys to any who wish to spend a moment savouring my presentation of the elixir of my experiential brew. All of those fresh elements of past happenings have far more worth and merit as they are distilled in vats of time and perspective. And I have chosen to celebrate them not as something lost … but as something turned into the fine wine of new worth. I get a nice buzz off of what my past has created. [grin] Don’t you see, My Dear reader? It is a simple matter of accepting the readily available “eyes” of Life … instead of the popular offering of our world’s more common view … death. I choose Light over Darkness.

So, this is what I suggested to my two remarkable Friends. I was offering the idea that they might find some ways to invite their Loved Ones out onto the balcony of new vistas and views … offer them a glass of a refreshing beverage distilled from lovely memories and delightful experiences … and have an intimate celebration of the wonder that is Life. Life as it is … right now … and right here … built on and made up of all of the magnificent collection of all of those harvested and fermented experiences and circumstances. This is what is available to each of us … if only we choose to make it so.

And it is just that simple … a matter of choice. Energized and brought to bear with a bit of applied effort. For, don’t you know, effort is required. This is not something that is presented on a platter of convenience. We do not hear any frequent voices of encouragement to see and hear Life’s possibilities. For, alas, all the world about us is voicing the same song of discouragement and despair. So, effort and creative energy is required … but more than well worth all that is invested. I promise!

Larry (part three)

As meaningful as the Individual part of Larry’s lesson to me was … it was, in truth, the second aspect of the message that I received. The first, and immediate, lesson was (as I watched him employ all of the might and strength developed by his upper body in its accommodation of his lower body’s needs) … (and Yes!! This is literally the exact thought spoken to my awareness in that very moment) … “If I suggested, to Larry, the idea of amputating his legs in order to make his swim less of an effort … he would tell me, ‘You go to hell ! These are my legs … a part of my total Self … and I am fully capable of taking care of and looking after their needs. Because they are a part of Me. And I love them just as I am lovable.'”

And I … right then … and right there … as I stood in the swelteringly humid and overwhelmingly loud swimming facility at The University of South Florida … I understood the responsibility of the total Body … to the less functional … even “handicapped” … part of that Body. I saw … heard … sensed … and knew that the all of the parts of the total Body, known as Humanity, have a natural and completely appropriate right, to be loved, and cared for, as members of that Body ... though they may be crippled by circumstance. I understood … in the midst of all of those cheers for Larry and his beautifully determined commitment to the success of his Entirety … that we, as The Body of Humanity, become stronger and more wonderfully balanced … as we care for, provide for, tend to, and nurture every aspect of who we are. That is what that room full of people were cheering for. Character! Commitment! Determination! Those were the values that spoke to us all as we watched Larry’s determined focus and purposeful struggles. We all had an awareness stirred within us in that moment.

And I knew, then, and have been repeatedly convinced, over the course of the nearly thirty years since, that we, as a Society … as a Global Body … have a daily opportunity to tend to the needs of the Entirety of our Self … as One. And the more care we give the members of our Body that are limited in some way … the stronger and better developed the rest of 'Us' becomes. This is what motivates me to seek out and respond to the Hurting and Disadvantaged. They are members of this Body that is Me. And I do not see amputation of them as a healthy remedy to their conditions or circumstances. No, indeed! I see the gentle, loving, and nurturing care of them as an opportunity to develop and make stronger the totality of the Body, of which I am but a small, but valuable, part.

This is what Life whispered to me in that long-ago moment. The Truth that lies in the balance of all that is intimately an aspect of Me … in my Individual Self … and just as importantly, in my universal Self. I am part of You. You are a member of this Body of which I am a part. We are healthy and functional when and as we accept, respect, nurture, and care for the Totality of who we are. In this way we become worthy of the cheers and applause of all of Eternity. To that end, I extend my encouragement and loving efforts … to You.

Larry (part one)

Matthew neither needed nor wanted his Dad hanging around. He was basking in the delights of an all-encompassing cocoon of adoring attention, provided by two beautiful teen-age girls, who were serving as Volunteers, at the Special Olympics. They had Matt’s schedule of events. They knew when and where he was to compete. Hence, having a Parent hanging about would be nothing but a impediment to their enjoyment of all of the peripheral events provided for the enjoyment and entertainment of the attendees to this annual event. Food, fun, and games abounded. And none of those required my presence. So, I made my Self scarce. I took this opportunity to meander through the grounds and see what there was to see.

In the course of said meandering, I happened upon the swimming venue. The room enclosing the pool was packed to capacity with Friends, Families, and Fans of the Participants in the swimming events. It was loud, humid, and heavy with enthusiastic energy. So, I found myself a place out of the way and watched. The athletes were entering the pool for the next competition. All walked to the pool’s edge and eased themselves into the waters. All … save one. This exception to the group did not have the use of his legs. Consequently, he was lowered into the pool by attending hands. I wondered at this obviously unfair situation. But knowing how difficult it is to group contestants into homogeneous classes of capabilities … when you are, by definition, working with a population of all-handicapped individuals … I accepted the obvious inequity as something that was probably unavoidable. Then … the starting gun.

There was a mad flurry of churned waters as all of the swimmers struck out for the opposite end of the pool … where they were to touch the wall, and return to the Finish point … where they had begun. Away they went. They crowded facility was made nearly-unbearable by the cheering voices of all in attendance. The coaches screamed. The Volunteers exhorted their Charges. The Swimmers who awaited their events, all yelled and hollered. It was an electric environment. And in the midst of it all … was Larry. How do I know that his name is Larry? Because, Dear Friend, after the group of contestants touched the far wall … as they in mass struck out for the point of origins that constituted the race’s finish line … they passed the lone swimmer who was not-even half-way across the pool. They had all … save the One … reached the finish, whilst he was yet struggling toward the far wall. They, each and all, had removed themselves from the waters … and he had not yet brought himself t the turn-around point. “Take him from the pool when he reaches that first wall. Save him any further embarrassment and frustrated anguish!” I thought to myself. But … No! This single Swimmer did no less than touch the far wall … and turned for the opposite wall. Slowly … inexorably … ploddingly he began his lone trip across what (in that moment) looked like an immeasurable expanse of water. Then it was that I learned his name.

“Laaar -Ree, Laaar -Ree, Laaar -Ree,” chanted the crowd. Every eye was on this single individual. Unfettered good-will and enthusiastic encouragement was on every face in that place. “Laaar -Ree, Laaar -Ree, Laaar -Ree,” they went on … louder and with increasing vigor they cheered. And Larry ploughed through the interminable length of that pool to a chorus of his name … on everyone’s lips … over and over. Until, at long last, he completed the swim … and was removed, from the waters, by the same caring hands totally, completely, and absolutely spent … and smiling the smile of a victor! It was Larry’s moment. He was … at that time and in that place … the most significant and loved person in the whole world. And Lady Muse whispered to me.

I knew, in that moment, to the accompaniment of those cheering voices, and Larry’s glowing countenance, a lesson of timeless value. For, you see, Life had presented a demonstration of an eternal Truth in this experience that I had been privileged to be enveloped in. I will tell you about it … in following installments. I look forward to sharing it with you.

A Single Voice

He was, arguably, the most powerful man in the world. Yet, when I saw his face, on the televised newscast, I saw a man beset with unresolved conflict and uncertainty. I saw pain. Although I was not a registered member of his political party, and did not subscribe to the core mantra of his politics … he was, in that moment, a Fellow Human Being … and he was hurting. And Lady Muse whispered “Help him!” So, from this tiny one-room cottage that constitutes one end of an old garage, I took out my trusty Waterman fountain pen … and I wrote a letter to him … the President of The United States.

I related a story that I knew would illustrate the simple message that would erase all of the consternation and doubt shown on in his eyes in that brief newscast. I told him of driving down a local avenue in an old Volkswagen with my son next to me in the front seat … and my daughter leaning up, between her brother and her Dad, as she delivered a message from her heart to mine. “I am proud of you Dad.” she said. “Why, Darling?” I asked, incredulously. “Because you haven’t given up. Since the divorce, you don’t have anything. You don’t have a home, or a career, or anything that you did have … but you keep trying and haven’t quit. And you haven’t committed suicide. So I am proud of you.”

Now, if you, Dear Reader, are amazed at such a statement from the mind of an eleven year old girl … I can guarantee you that I, as her Daddy, was completely blown away! And it is the power of this affirmation by my child that I communicated to the President of these United States in my letter of encouragement. I urged him to put aside the voices of Advisors, Political Influencers, Staff and Administrative Colleagues … and weigh his decisions and choices on the scales of the esteem and honour of his family. For, I offered, after the passing of all of those transient and altogether-temporary circumstances that constitute Office and Position, what his family knew him to be, would be the singular Standard, that overshadowed all other considerations, in eternal merit and worth.

I pointed out the fact that I was, of all possible people, the very least in influential status, social and/or community position, economic worth, or political power. But, I made clear, in the eyes of one eleven year-old girl, I was worthy of pride and satisfaction. And that, above all considerations, was the very best of lasting rewards.

Now, I know what you are thinking, Dear friend. For I too had known a previous experience in trying to communicate with the “Powerful and Influential.” On that occasion, I wrote a letter to a sitting President. And all that was accomplished was my receipt of a letter soliciting a cash contribution to that President’s political party. But, you see, on this occasion, I was writing in response to the direction of that certain, quiet, but altogether insistent whisper of my Lady Muse’s speaking to my Inner Self. So, I made a copy of the letter to the President … attached it to a very short note that said something on the order of:

“My Dear Mrs Barbara Bush,

I just sent the attached letter to your husband. Because I am simultaneously aware of the massive deluge of mail he receives; a sense of personal urgency and conviction in the worth and timeliness of my message; and lastly, your intimate and committed influence on him; I am hoping that you find enough merit in the message to feel it worthy of mentioning to him personally. I leave it in your trust.”

And I sent that cover note with the copy of the letter to the President of The United States, to the White House in our nations Capitol. Surely enough, I did receive (a couple of weeks later) a form letter from one of the President’s vast network of Underlings with its expected and altogether predictable collection of “Yada, Yada, Yada.” Then, to my complete surprise, (a short while later) I received a hardboard-reinforced, letter sized envelope with admonishments to “Do Not Fold” from the White House. Upon opening it I found a smaller sized note on elegant, personalized, and embossed note paper, a short note from the First Lady. She thanked me for my concern, my interest, and my commitment to the best interests of her husband.

She told me that she had discussed the content of my letter with “George,” … and that they both appreciated my efforts and kindness. And THEN! (if all of that was not enough) I received a note card from The First Lady’s Personal Assistant some days later. She asked that I mail a note to her with telephone numbers that would allow Mrs. Bush to get in touch with me … for she wanted to express her appreciation “in person.” And, yes, I did receive a telephone call, at my office, during work. (Our receptionist was completely blown away! You should have heard her voice on the intercom when she told me that I had a call from the White House, on hold. [grin] And, no, I didn‘t tell her that I was too busy to take the call. [smile])

I took the call, and had a short conversation, with The First Lady’s Personal Assistant, who expressed apologies, from Mrs. Bush, for her inability to call, due to a very hectic schedule “on the campaign trail with The President.” But, I was told, they did not want to fail to follow up my letter with a prompt and sincere effort. I received expressions of gratitude, once again, and best wishes from The First Lady.

I cannot share direct quotations from either my letter, or the note from The First Lady, for those are now the property of my daughter … the One whose encouragement and stirring words provided the core of my message to The President. I gave them to her … custom-framed in an elegant frame appropriate to the significance of and accommodating to the prestigiously embossed Seal of The White House … on her attaining her eighteenth birthday (her age of becoming a voter and participant in the processes of governance of our nation.) I pointed out, to her, the Truth that lies in the power of the very Least of us … when we elect to follow, with committed and diligent effort, the leading of our individual Inner Voice of conviction. I told her that the Note from the Greatest … sent to One of the Least … would remind her of what Life can do with any Individual’s efforts when those efforts are motivated and directed by the noblest of unselfish intentions.

And that is the Message that I would use this Story … to illustrate, and make real … for You, my Darling Reader. I whole-heartedly encourage your following of your own personal convictions and yearnings. That you may know the ultimate satisfaction of Being all that you have a core desire to Be. I have no reservation in telling You, that You, and You alone, have a special and unique place in this life … that can not be satisfied by any other Being. This I am certain of. I can assure You that your fearless response to that inner Leading, will result in a rewarding sense of completeness and satisfaction. How can I be so sure, you ask. Because I know how I am touched and moved by your individual influence on me. And I am so very blessed … and grateful … by, and for, You.

As I remain … as always … your most loving of Friends, and (though the Least of the most Insignificant), your most happily devoted of Servants.

The Stream of Life

I trust the Stream of life. The flow that begins at some point before my knowledge and goes beyond the limits of my awareness. I am confident in the perfect balance, purpose, and harmony of life’s flow. It accumulates all that joins it and carries all to an appropriate end. The fallen leaves of Autumn; the blossoms of Spring; the bits of ice in the Winter … just as the circumstances, events, challenges, and blessings of our individual lives … all, in their own season and appropriate to their nature, fall into the flow of life and are carried to their fitting purpose. All under Life’s control.

So it is with the items that I write and publish. I have, in this, and other venues, composed thoughts and transmitted them with a singular understanding that it was necessary for me to do so. I simply and trustingly responded to that “Still Small Voice” within my spirit … that “Muse”, if you will, that gives all of us a quiet, yet clear understanding of what we are to say … or do ... at a particular time and in a specific place. And, Dear Reader, this is the Source of what you have seen, thus far, and will see hereafter in this little vehicle … this BLOG.

The reward and validation that I enjoy is the response from the One for whom the message has merit and meaning. The “How did you know?”, or "Just what I needed." that comes from One whose need, desire, or conflict I was completely unaware of, but was known to the Source of my Lady Muse. Life provides a dynamic, all encompassing, and reliable flow that carries those of us who are willing to participate. And I am.

Hence, you will see some articles written long ago and some penned in the current time. I am simply listening to, and flowing with, the stream of Life’s direction. (And happy to have you along.)



(IMAGE: Courtesy of FREEIMAGE.co.uk )