If I had a magic wand, I would wave it and remove all of the hate in our land. It would take away the hurt all felt throughout the ages of man from the beginning of time, when Cain killed his brother, and when a stupid Esau sold his birthright to his brother Jacob for a lousy bowl of soup.  Continue reading
Tag Archives: HIGHLY SENSITIVE PERSONS
Taps by my Emotional Freedom Technique
If you haven’t tried it, you ought to Google “EFT” and see if such a technique could help with whatever might ail you today!
As stress keeps arising, meditation caps it
Someday I may just get my stress under control.
And like Buddy Holly once said: “That’ll be the day . . . that I die.”
Divine Mother, Spare the Fem-in-’em Now
Take ’em. Break ’em. Make ’em.
O Grand Master, it is your females that will save this species. It is through their power, their innate abilities, that man will be saved. Compassion and love must rule the day again. And power must be crushed by the mallet of humility before any dare sends another child into war that old men dream of winning as if playing games of adolescent ruffians. 
Truly Living May Just Be Worth Dying For
The thought of going to prison never bothered me. I’d survive and flourish behind bars, where I’d have more than enough time to reflect and write which I have found is my true love in life.
No, I could kill without worrying about the consequences. It would be my first offense. I am certified as a Vietnam veteran with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, and I don’t see any judge or jury putting me to death for the crime.
Greet your road with love and compassion
Kabbalah To Mingle With Buddhist Jaunt
What do Israel and India have in common with Istanbul and Amsterdam? Other than all starting with a vowel?
It’s where this Philadelphia lad is heading from Nov. 6 through Nov 18, creating a pilgrimage that will touch base with five of the World’s largest religions: Christianity and Judaism, as well as the Muslim and Hindu faiths, ending at the land where the Buddha gained enlightenment.  Continue reading
Compliments lift spirits, ages you nicely
Compliment someone today. Tell ’em how nice they look.
Better yet, tell someone you meet what movie star they look like.
Short Stature Grows Larger With Love
Mr. Nice Guy wins, but loses in the end
I’ve had to push you from my mind, to save my mind. Get you out of my Life to live my Life.
Injustice should make us all ‘go berserk’
“Going Berserk” has always had a wicked appeal to me.
For brief moments, I’d go “mad,” and not care for my safety or well-being, but focus instead on the object causing a “crazy re-action” on my part. It was as if a volcano had erupted and I wanted to punish those perceived as evil-doers. Might have had a bit of “religious fervor” involved, as I saw myself correcting a wrong or an injustice with a quick upper-cut to the jaw.
Do not disturb a man who’s sweating it out
Growled like a dog at a guy making noise in a sauna I was meditating in Tuesday.
Three times in a row, I gave him a dirty look, lifting my head from the bent, meditative pose staring long, hard seconds as he eventually quieted down. He was drinking water from a bottle. So he says. But it sounded more like he was bathing by splashing water on his arms and legs for some reason only God knows.
Going AWOL helps a boy grow into a man
Went AWOL while a private in the US Army in 1968.
Continue readingThe Great Awakening can be hard on a guy
Ashamed. Impure. Dirty.
All these feelings flashed through me as I slowly came out of what seemed like a trance, halfway between sleep and wakefulness, only to notice growth at a part of my body where there was none before.
Saying ‘I Love You’ Over & Over Again!
“I love you” was not in the way you said it, but how you said it.
You’re ‘Over the Hill,’ Once You Hit Forty
Requested a dollar coffee at a Burger King last night and the Gidget-like youngster asked if she could serve a “Senior.”
No, I replied, not wanting anything more or less then what’s on a “dollar menu” for cup I could refill, if need be. I handed over $1.06 in change, placing it carefully on the counter in front of the short blonde teenage girl. “It’s 50 cents,” she quipped, all bright and full of sunshine. “It’s a senior cup.”
Can Hell Actually Be Just ‘Other People?’
Felt disconnected from the World as I knew it yesterday.
Bestowing spirit & essence to a new friend
I told someone I’d give up my life for them. And, I meant it.
I was so low, I was willing to forego this body and offer my spirit to someone, anyone who’d have a greater chance of gaining enlightenment than me. Give to someone who was nearing to what Kabbalists call the final “correction” of all of one’s egotistical desires.
Forgive warrior’s defense of the sensitive
You invited me to your House, and I broke confidence in you.
Walk a Labyrinth full with love & no desire
All I want to do, is Give. Not Take.
Give without seeking a thing in return. Oh, I’ll get pleasure out of the deal. But I’ll put a lid on it. Screen out the joy that can overwhelmingly fill me, and direct the bulk of that feeling to another. Deflect it to one needing nurturing that only a mother’s love could offer her youngest child.
Amy, you smile & I find pure paradise!
Thank You Amy. Let the Good Times Roll!
Sit and do nothing, but only do it better
Sit and do Nothing — Better.
You don’t know how hard this is for me. To do nothing! Forget about the better part. The word “better“ implies you’ve been able to do “nothing” sometime in the past. Or that you can do nothing “better” than someone else.
Radio Plays to My No. 1 Heart’s Desire
Music touched an emotional chord in me that may have been different from most folks.
Abraham, Martin & John Live On Within
Rain pours on me outside, while soft music warms me on the inside. “Abraham, Martin, and John,” the song, plays from this relatively new gadget called a portable, hand-held, transistor radio.
Love Streams in All Good Consciousness
How do I explain the feelings that have come “over me?” They’re like ocean waves ebbing and flowing in each breath.
In and out. To and fro. You and I. Somehow all connected. Continue reading
Willie, 20 years later, I still mourn you
Although you “passed on” after your 17th birthday, you’ll remain alive for me forever. I see you in my dreams. I “feel” your presence as I walk with you, watch you, and hear the footsteps on the steps leading from the dining room to the bedroom upstairs.
Hawk carries HSPs to their highest ideals
The hawk glides across the sky, soaring high above us as the first person to notice shouts, “there’s one.” Like children, we stare toward the heavens, at the beautiful blue sky. A normally humid August has graced us with a mild and glorious summer day, blending light breezes and the scent of flowers that drift our way from below the wooden platform we look out from.
Continue reading
School boss drives Vietnam veteran nuts
Felt I was back in war maneuvering through a mine field called the new educational system yesterday.
Continue readingUnexplained ‘Pull’ leading me back Home
A gentle “pull” manifested in my Life recently. I noticed it last night while driving and wanted no more than to live in each passing moment.
Concealing & finding Self –a life-long effort
Hello! Anybody here? It sure is dark inside. Like a huge cavern with hardly any light.
Falling in love with the Love of Your Life
Fell head over heels in love the past few weeks. Didn’t want to do it. Had always gotten “hurt” in relationships, knowing from the start they’d come to an end one day. Love seemed to change that way. To peter out. End not with a “bang,” but with a “whimper.”
Angels re-enter when you’re open to ’em
I started seeing angels again. No, hold off on the straight jacket, don’t reserve a room at an asylum. I’m not totally crazy. Yet.
‘Open your eyes’ to journey of Lifetime
The snake slithered along the bed of the forest, winding its way beneath a pine tree. Climbing upwards, it twirled around the trunk, moving ever so slowly, centimeter after centimeter, as it sought the “higher ground” where it could shimmy onto a tree branch and make its way closer to my eye level.
Women Elevate all our Desire for God
Did Creator make a mistake in His design of women’s “purpose?“
Are they on the earth to simply guide men to the Light above and share in the Love such a man might bring back with him to our earthly plane?
Can ‘spiritual indigestion’ be all that bad?
Thought I was dying Monday morning.
Just finished eating a plateful of scrambled eggs, bacon and home fries, topped off with a honey bun, and had started in on a second cup of coffee when: “BAM.”
Weekend Euphoria Needs Time to Set
The Greatest Weekend — No. II
* Uncertain if my true love would ever be mine, I fell to my knees . . . praying for her affection. It was . . . a Sunday.
Spiritual wars should end at a dinner table
Psalm 46:
9 — He maketh wars to cease unto the end of the earth; he breaketh the bow, and cutteth the spear in sunder; he burneth the chariot in the fire.
10 — Be still and know that I am God.
Looking for Self among all the wrong cards
Who am I? Am I this body, this mind, this soul? Perhaps, all three?
Even on bad days, music can lift me higher
“The Crossing” filled me with sounds of the Rapture last night as I surrendered to the harmonies some 25 voices offered me on entering Heaven. Continue reading
Won’t let go until animal instinct tells me to
My jaws clamp down, insuring I won’t let go of what I just uncovered. It’s taken me for what seems forever to get my teeth around it, and I won’t give up without a fight. Even if I get kicked. Again. Square in the face where it hurts, but I’ll get over it.
See you in a ‘next life’ Sombitch Rooster
(Cont’d from series on a-mean-rooster)
Dropped Sombitch Rooster off in a wooded area near a weed and gravel-covered path leading to an Urban Homestead with rows of corn in what appeared to be a good-sized farm enclosed by a six-foot “mesh” fence and a locked gate. Before that, I removed the cage holding the chickens and young roosters from the back of my car, opened the door of the cage, and planned to throw the six fowl over the fence.
Goin’ to farm; pick blueberries barefooted
Cousin Rosemarie Lieb.
You opened my heart to something I closed years ago.
Not ready to look inside. Almost, but not just yet.
Admiration Pours out from my Cousin’s Heart
“He wrote speeches for the governor,” I heard you whisper to our Cousin John Westergom of whom I have not spoken more than 20 words in the past 40 years. I detected a hint of, I don’t know, admiration or acknowledgment of an achievement I don’t normally dwell on, one I almost forgot. You spoke of something I had tried to forget. My past.
Don’t want to look at it. Or focus on it, the so-called achievements, that is. My future’s going to be so much brighter. The best years of my life are still ahead. Don’t want to sit on my laurels as if Life has passed me by, following a “retirement” of sorts with this PTSD disability. I still hope to do so much more and give plenty of myself to humanity, if only in some humble way.
Fellowship Allows me to Write a Speech for Governor
You reminded me of something my mother might have said with pride . . . that her son, Michael J Contos, had gotten a Finnegan Fellowship to study state government in Pennsylvania, thereby insuring a dinner at an awards banquet with then PA Governor Milton J Shapp.
I had studied journalism at the Community College of Delaware County, and was placed in the “public relations” division of Penn DOT, the state department of transportation, where I wrote a speech for the governor, several press releases and provided the “voice over” for a television newscast introducing new buses that “kneeled” to let persons with wheel-chairs enter public transit buses.
“This is Michael Contos, WGOL, Harrisburg,” I said in my one and only broadcast news report.
Governor Uses Each Word Verbatim
It was an achievement, writing for the governor. He used the speech verbatim, and I made copies for my resume of “news clippings.” Never did get a copy of the voice-over. The VCR was not in wide use — if in use at all — in the early ’70s.
I wanted to tell you, “It was no big deal.” The kid from a tough Philadelphia neighborhood, Brewerytown, made good despite his working-class roots. You see, I simply dug out a copy of an earlier speech the governor had given, brought it up to date, and put a new spin on it by adding a few of my words that “Democrats and Republicans alike will join in the celebration” for the construction feat.
Also wanted to tell you I wrote a fictional short story that summer, two years out of the Vietnam War. The writing got a second-place award in an Altoona, PA, contest. (Again, no “biggie,” even though it got coverage at Temple University when a teacher published the news in the school’s “house organ.” That’s newspaper jargon for a company-operated newsletter.)
Trying to Become ‘Worthy’ of My Goals
You’re the only one of my extended family I feel such a “Motherly” connection with, if that is the right word for it. The type of connection I denied myself growing up, for fear of resting before I could reach some goal, some summit I wanted to ascend to prove I was . . . worthy . . . as a person . . . as a man.
I missed out. Stayed focused too much and too long on nothing but achievements. Now, I want to share those stories I minimized in the past; I didn’t want anyone to think I got a “Big Head.” Still don’t, and that’s one reason why I’ve been reluctant to share. Afraid I’ll see how unimportant it really was . . . that I was just chasing windmills, if you know what I mean.
Want to visit the farm where Aunt Betty and Uncle Lenny showed us so much love; want to walk barefoot in the sandy roads leading to nearby Atlantic City. And pick lots of blueberries until the proverbial cows come home. Thanks for keeping the light on for this drifter, this black sheep of the family. Hope there’s still time enough for us . . .
The Gospel According to Bobby Darin
Wasn’t sure a Gospel Song would fit in with Highly Sensitive Persons (HSPs) at a music appreciation meet last week.
Still can’t understand why I chose Bobby Darin, the “Splish Splash” originator, to represent my musical taste. We were encouraged by the hosts, a young couple, to bring music that meant a lot to us, perhaps meditative offerings and/or those pieces that represented a special time in our lives.
Al Brown Taught me a Lesson of a Lifetime
I always looked up to Al Brown. I met him when I was only eight-and-a-half years old in the 1950s. Nowadays, I guess you would call him a “community organizer,” someone in the neighborhood a person could turn to with questions about the block, the new and older people who lived on your street. Like that section of Brewerytown where I grew up in North Philadelphia.
Escaping Brewerytown in 1 piece not easy
I never took my eyes off the gun. The man’s hand shook. I was afraid it would go off. Raising my own hands, I prayed that he would not shoot, and said “I’m coming out,” slowly climbing out of the window, placing one foot on the ground and then the other as I exited the ACME supermarket warehouse building two blocks from my home. Continue reading
Love generates within for no reason at all
I Tasted Love before I ever “Entered” an Age of Reason.
I had not reached 7, but I remember it as if it was yesterday. I was attending a birthday party for a friend of my brother, John, who is two years older than me. Her name was Carolyn, and the love I felt came from her sister, Regina Gross, who the older kids enjoyed “fixing up” with me, her school classmate.
Freedom of Religion depends on religion
Read some comments attacking the Dalai Lama on someone’s Blog which championed freedom of religion on its website.
Noticed it also pushed for a vote against gay marriage in California.
I’m heartily sorry for having offended Thee
“Michael J,
The biggest lie you ever told was that you could say something about sexual orientation and not hurt someone whose way of life might be different from yours. You said you lied when you told an ex-girlfriend that you were gay to avoid having sex with someone you were not ready to have a long-term commitment.
Going back home sans the Maidenform bra
What’s the biggest lie you ever told?
I’m talking “whopper” now. None of the “little white lies” kinda story. But one that would qualify as a Bold-Faced LIE!
Mine was to an ex-girlfriend. Not a lie to hide, I had been with another girl. Or why I forgot an anniversary or her birthday.
Dance floor good place to learn to play ball
Two girls fought over me once.
Well, it really wasn’t me that caused the fight. It was my dance steps.
Unconditional love comforts a Buddha cat
Sundance sneezed five times. Shouldn’t have surprised me. I “felt” I was helping her as she lay across my legs, jettisoning hundreds of microscopic objects onto my leg and arm where her small furry head had just rested.  Continue reading
50 chews per bite is goal, not meals’ end!
The Outcome Doesn’t Matter
Old warriors share PTSD woes with young
Never thought of myself as a “warrior.” Wasn’t that a term used by Third World tribes or ancient civilizations building empires on one war after another?
2010 Time Capsule: Nick’s HS Class Trip
Saw you off on your class trip, Nick, and while we parted on a bad note, I want to leave something to perhaps get the sour taste out of our mouths.
Make yourself a clean, well-lighted place
There’s nothing like a clean, well-lighted sink.
Got three of them shining the other day. I usually wipe one every morning I shower, removing the half-used toothpaste drops, moustache trimmings and occasional pieces of hair from a head that doesn’t need to lose any more. Hair, that is.
Writing the old-fashioned way inspires me
Prolific is as Prolific Does.
Got inspired to write while working on my third cup of coffee. I wait the 90 minutes I’ve given to a meeting I scheduled at IKEA in Conshohocken, PA, for Highly Sensitive Persons (HSP).  Continue reading
Remembering the Greatest Time of my Life
What does your first memorable kiss, scoring a break-away touchdown and opening to your Higher Self all have in common?
Dolphins display love as human escorts
Hung over. Tired. Hard to get out of bed.
What happened? I had nothing to drink . . . no alcohol . . . no drugs.
Don’t let Love speed away; but yield slowly
Cont’d from Part I, Dolphins display love as human escorts
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.
‘I wanna go home’ starts & ends within
On reading “I wanna go home,” I was moved to respond about Love Within:
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.
Kim, you inspire me to lose meaty issues
You never know where your thoughts may take you when you blog. A reply to another’s post may become your “post of the day” if you’re not careful. Or, if another person writings inspire you to reveal yourself . . . Continue reading
PTSD’s permanent address is at my home
Compensation and Review Board is the name given to a panel of persons with the Veterans’ Administration that recommends whether a disability rating should be approved for a deserving veteran.
New Worlds open at the turn of a page
A door to the possible mysteries of life opened slightly yesterday. My friend, Joy, introduced me to the Kabbalah.
Grass always greener on non-paved side
For a better over-all life, PLEASE STAY “ON” THE GRASS.
Sufi Love fondly remembered at a ‘Dhikr’
I focus on my hands clasped together in front of my lower chest, with one good eye barely open and the other hidden behind a black eye-patch.
I am “whirling.” Circling on a carpeted floor at a Quaker Meeting Hall room going round and round. No dizziness this, my second time out. I project a feeling of Love and “nudge out‘” fears of falling and/or appearing awkward and uncoordinated. I am dancing with my “Beloved,” as a dervish man displaying his affection to the Oneness of the Universe, the Glory of the Spirit.
PTSD battle takes its toll in Life-Long Fear
You don’t know how easily I scare.
I hate to admit this, but I become afraid when I get into harm’s way. I try to avoid it. Try to go with the flow. But when harm settles in my general area, I become as timid as a rabbit jumping back in a hole after seeing his own shadow.
Surprise! You’re HSP and never knew it
“Chef J” had no idea what she was getting herself into when she surfed the computer early Saturday morning. But, by the end of the day, she found more than a dozen people who were “just like her,” struggling to make sense of a world that seems cold to the sensitivity of others.
Speak up if you enjoy the art of listening
I talk too much.
Didn’t always. I was one of those “quiet” ones when I was young. Seen, and not heard. I believed that “empty barrels made the most noise,” as the nuns taught us in grade school.
Tibetan singing bowl aids a goddess & me
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.
Buddha guides me thru VA PTSD path
Possibly Cont’d from Trappist monk helps veteran ‘awaken’ me
Buddha came in the shape of a dark-haired, dark-skinned attractive yoga-practicing woman, smiling upon me in a dream.
Continue readingName-caller gets his butt kicked in the end
Originally Cont’d from Name-calling can get you kicked in the end 1-28-10
Calling a kid names could cause a lasting scar one may have to deal with later in life. It’s either that, or you learn to “toughen up“ as I did, and let the wise-cracks, the slurs, the hate-filled and ignorant remarks simply glide over you.
‘Love you Take’ Equals the ‘Love you Make’
My head slowly rises, as my breathing gets deeper and deeper, and meditation washes over me like the caress from a gentle, loving caregiver. Can’t focus on the movement. Don’t want to detract from this feeling of bliss where there’s no concerns, no worries, no thoughts.
Nothing. Bad or Good.
Navigating Above & Beyond the Known World
I am reaching that “Void” where there are no attachments, no desires, no repulsions. Yet the head continues to move. Upward. Into a more relaxed position. One in which I can eventually offer my full face to the “One” I feel above me. “My Beloved” is what the Sufi would call this apparition. Perhaps, “Spirit‘ is the word a mystical Christian might use to describe the state I have navigated my Self into.
I receive a kiss. It’s bestowed on me with all the Love our small world and tiny universe can contain. Now, I feel totally sated with the comfort and assurance that this Love will always be there. I let my head gently touch and rest against the wall behind me, where my back is propped up while sitting in a half lotus position on the floor.
I’m at the Resiliency Center: A Healing Arts Collaborative in Ambler, PA. Some 10 other meditators are “voiding” themselves of unnecessary thoughts, presumably with eyes gently closed and hearts fully open.
“You Are Perfect, Just the Way You Are!”
One, whose name I have not gotten permission to use, is also moved by this meditation experience. She tells the group how she would approach her children, a young girl and boy, and assure them every night that they were “special.” She gestured with her hands as if cupping the chin and face of the child and said to each: “you are perfect just the way you are.” She then kissed each youngster.
Five years ago, when the marriage in the family home had begun to end between husband and wife, she shared this other part of the story. She said she followed her daily routine, going to her children to say goodnight.
She went to the top bunk where her son was resting. But before she could comfort him, the little boy named Joseph put his hands on his mother’s chin and cheeks and had said to mom “you are perfect just the way you are.” And kissed her. Just the way you would expect a 6-year-old to kiss.
True Love is Totally Unconditional
I did not realize it until later, that the Love that had visited me while meditating, may have touched that woman the same way, re-awakening inside both of us — perhaps all of us — a better understanding of what true Love is all about. It’s totally unconditional. And, if we’re lucky, maybe even a little karmic.
“And in the end, the love you take,
Is equal to the love . . . you make,”
— the Beatles
Are you the one from a path not taken?
Originally Cont’d from Part I Mc572 – who are you & how can we talk?
Why are you following me?
Mc572 – who are you & how can we talk?
Who is writing to me? The Name or Tag of “Us.mc572” just doesn’t cut it. Please let me know who you really are. I’ve seen you at my site for weeks, maybe even months. You visit almost every day but have not left a “comment“ or any message to indicate what your interest might be. I have tried, but have been unable to reach you, to determine if you’re a friend or a foe.
EFT raises a son’s job aspects, a dad’s hope
Nick got the job.
He’ll be working as a busboy at Houlihan’s Restaurant at the Plymouth Meeting Mall outside our hometown, Conshohocken, PA, here in the USA.
‘Les We Forget’ names called our soldiers
No one’s ever called me “baby-killer.”
I never was “spit on” upon returning home to the United States following a year at war in Vietnam.
And, while friends and co-workers I met through the years may have thought it, none have said to my face they believed I was one of those “Crazed Vietnam Veterans.”
Name-calling can get you kicked in the end
Patty DeMarco made me cry. He called me names and wouldn’t stop as I tried to walk away, with him following me on the North Philadelphia street we lived. On and on he went, badmouthing me, until he saw my brother, who helped me into his little red wagon, and pulled it home, me sobbing all the while behind. I was four years old.
What Type of Personality is Your Type?
Here’s a series of traits from something called the Enneagram. You can search through in attempts to find what type of personality fits you. I found some interesting things about myself. And hope to bring them up at a meeting of HSPs (Highly Sensitive Persons), one of whom suggested the sites to me.
Eye still on the 30-day writing finish line
Surgery was completed on eye yesterday. I have to return today for an exam. Boy, am I drowsy.
Have had to urinate constantly. May have to cancel afternoon meeting to learn how to be “calm” and find “peace.” It’s a free workshop, and if you know anything about me, you’d know I can’t stand to pass up anything that’s free.
Continue reading
Stop the presses, stop depression, stop!
Stop! Don’t tell me anymore. Don’t want to hear it.
Keep the news to yourself. It hurts me, it’s always bad.
Last minute reprieve delays eye execution
I felt the governor had called in a reprieve at the 11th hour, minutes before my scheduled “execution” was to take place Monday.
Crazy to think suffering could ever help
Why is it that when someone tells you about recalling a “past life” it’s always one of glamour where you had lots of power to change things in the world?
Rooster Racks up Pain and Admiration
Dark red scars are forming on my left hand and forearm where the thrust of the attack struck me. If left too long, I believe the cuts would fester and get worse. They’re the type that could cause that ugly yellow crust-like “deformity” to surround and create a horrific open wound.
Highly Sensitive People get Highest Grade
I feel I have just awakened from a dream. I see a mother, a father, as well as a brother and sister smiling at me. Each one is new to me. Each is the member of a family I have wanted to belong to all my life.
Love’s ‘First Kiss’ Lasts . . . For Ever More
“Don’t like this love…(crap)” she told me!
“I don’t like this love shit,” a woman I was about to meditate with whispered to me while in the circle of our six-person meditation “community.”
Contoveros 