Opening up to a stranger is never easy. But when you feel trust and an open vulnerability offered to you, you can shed your safeguards and become the loving person I believe we were always meant to be. Just yield slowly.
Reach inside of yourself. Look for the Love. It’s there. Now, let it flow throughout your body, your system. Never mind thoughts trying to intrude onto this feeling. Your love is stronger and mightier than any thought — negative or otherwise.
Your “Beloved,” is what you need. You yearn and long for Him, don’t you?
Always have, always will.
Played “peek-a-boo” with the sun and shade this morning. On the road from Ambler to Conshohocken, PA, I engaged Old Sol in a game the Almighty must have created for mankind’s appreciation. Why else would God — who caused the sun to come into being from some huge cosmic explosion — have invented shadows? It’s all part of His Love for us humans!
Kneeling on my knees, I hold the bowl out with one hand, while placing the other hand on the wooden floor, crawling from one side of the chair to another.
My shoulders have grown enormously since this afternoon. I feel they’re “indestructible.” That I have durable lightweight plastic pads all around the neck, the collarbone and the head, as well as my upper chest and back.
Calling a kid names could cause a lasting scar one may have to deal with later in life.
You had to be a little tough to grow up in Brewerytown, the neighborhood of Philadelphia I called home for the first part of my life. You also needed to be open to other ways of life, different religions, and those of another race.
“Letting go” is a process I thought I had completely bought into when I “gave up” trying to control things and had surgery done on my eye.
How can I deal with PTSD and prevent “squandering away” my life?
I’ve developed a fear of changes I’ve been forced to make and have a concern with the almost constant pain in the bad eye. It’s a low threshold of irritation, but a pain, nevertheless, that is taking more of a toll on me.
The “buckle” holding the retina in place on my left eye the past 30 days looks “excellent,” Dr. Ali Zaidi announced Wednesday. What’s more important, my vision has improved, and there’s hope for more improvement before I’m to get a new corrective lens prescription, following a detached retina operation Jan. 22, 2010.
I’m hooked on steroids. And no matter what I do, my doctor won’t let me get off of them.
There’s nothing quite as common as a cracker, one of those Saltines, that is . . .
Driving while stuck in a traffic jam ordinarily would not be the best place to practice mindfulness meditation. I found out today while rushing to a doctor’s appointment, it was the “only” way to travel.
Driving while stuck in a traffic jam ordinarily would not be the best place to practice mindfulness meditation. I found out today while rushing to a doctor’s appointment, it was the “only” way to travel.
Ever have one of those “yucky” moments? Like, when you put your hand in a box, feeling around for some specific item only to come upon something gooey, wet and, of course “yucky.”
I have never been good at waiting, and when I have something unpleasant to do — like undergo an operation in the hospital — I prefer to get it over with. Quickly. And not have to count the minutes that seem to pass by so excruciatingly slow.
I felt the governor had called in a reprieve at the 11th hour, minutes before my scheduled “execution” was to take place Monday.
Anyone facing a detached retina medical procedure must learn to deal with discomfort. A patient will be in store for short bursts of pain that get progressively more difficult to deal with around the eye.
I prayed I wouldn’t show any fear, but I did. I couldn’t help it. I pulled my head away from the laser burning into my eye like a mare pulling away from a wrangler trying to break in a unridden horse.
WARNING: Handle this detached retina eye patient with more care than he handles himself. A Bubble in his eye could explode. Now wear this bracelet until we say otherwise. (And stay off airplanes, for Heaven’s sake!)
A green wrist band announces to a Good Samaritan that, should I fall ill or be rescued from some accident, that I have a “Bubble” in my eye.
Psychedelic green bursts of light pulse across my eye. It’s like a strobe light flashing over and over, as I “see” a colorful cascade of a lime green pigment appear before me as if it’s penetrating the eyeball itself.
1917 – “Through a Glass Darkly” Continue reading
A spectacular combination of yellow and purple graced my eyes as I traveled yesterday to America’s first home, the City of Brotherly Love, in Philadelphia.
Want to feel good? Pick out five things each day to show your gratitude. Write ’em down. But, don’t try to fake it. You really gotta look for some thing in your life, some person, some reason that, deep down inside, you can say “makes me grateful.”
Here I am, walking on the high wire. No net below. My big mouth got me up here, and here I’ll stay for 30 days.
Saw an Asian woman handling the checkout at a nearby Target store and joked with her about a gift I was getting for my son’s birthday three months from today. It was a holiday box with no writing on it, nothing to suggest it was from Xmas.
Psst! Hey you. Yeah, the good-lookin’ one with that Spiritual Glow about ’em.
Ever seek a second opinion on how to get into heaven? No, I’m not talking about waiting until you’re dead. I mean, right “now.”
So many choices. So many books to read, words to digest. How do you know where to begin?
- “Whenever I interact with someone,
May I view myself as the lowest amongst all,
And, from the very depths of my heart,
Respectfully hold others as superior.”
A white cap of snow covers the head of the Buddha statue in the side yard of my Conshohocken home. Snow blankets his shoulders, his lap and that part of his robe that crosses his chest from the top left shoulder to the mid-section of the belly on the right.
Can I give a flower to a Buddhist?
To show the impermanence of beauty.
QUES: What did Buddhist want on ordering a hot dog? ANS: “One with everything.”
For the first time in my life, I attended a Buddhist gathering knowing that I wanted to learn more about meditation and the teachings about compassion and loving kindness.
I sometimes feel that Patience waits for no man.
War is good for no one.
No one is good for war.
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If you view no other video the rest of your meditative life, please see this one about Jill Bolte Taylor.
I hear a young voice behind me. At first, I think it was a boy. Turns out, it’s Mary Kate, a 7-year-old girl. She’s crying. Not loudly, but softly, as if she’s hurting somewhere no one can comfort her.
Meditation paid off in an unusual dividend today.
It helped me obey traffic signs, thereby avoiding a ticket I would surely have gotten on another day.  Continue reading
Opening up oneself can be hazardous to your health.
A small miracle is happening right before our eyes if we only open our hearts to see.
I finally did something I thought I would never do:
Look at the End of a Book to see the Conclusion.
Quantum Physics is something I can hardly spell, let alone learn more about.
My 10th-grade mathematics teacher whispers the horrible news: “Somebody shot the president.”
Needles punctured my ears for the first time in my life this week.
Acupuncture was being offered for one free session to veterans on Veterans’ Day, and I appeared at the WON Institute in Glenside, PA, to take advantage of the procedure. The practitioner, Ed Cunningham, was kind, offering me some cheese and crackers as we made small talk and I got ready for the event.
Put a straitjacket on me.
“Opening up” to a stranger is, at best, difficult to do. Confiding your “war zone” fears with a non-veteran can be worse, unless PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) serves as a bond between a brother and a sister.
What do anger, dreams, PTSD, and “Letting Go“ of one’s past have to do with each other? They’re all part of a discussion on vetting our emotions through dreams to deal with our conscious selves. Join me and another Michael J in our recent comments to his post: Practicing for the Bardo by Urbansannyasin
Continue readingIt seems that every time I try to be nice to my handicapped wife, she reacts with a negative view towards me and my message.
Continue readingHaving more than an hour before getting breakfast, I wondered whether I should write something or seek refuge in a “sitting meditation.”
Continue readingUnable to curb my road rage today, I finally grasped a thread of my PTSD and traced it back to its source.
Continue readingClose your eyes, and you might see.
See the weightlessness that your body becomes as you float on the waters of a nearby spa.
Ever learn about yourself while giving heartfelt advice to someone else?
Here’s a Little Food for Thought:
Why is text messaging confined only to a hand-held devise?
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How do you say you’re sorry to a people whose country you bombed in the name of peace and democracy?
What words can you use after saying that you are personally sorry for the Vietnam War and the mistakes our government made some 40 years ago?
Continue readingGod damn it. I forgot the lead I wanted to write here.
Continue readingI offered to help some people today whose car had broken down.
When I want to (need to?) quiet the chatter inside of me, I play a little music in my head — sort of like a mantra — that becomes a lullaby for the Mind.
Contoveros 