-
The Roses Are Yours. . .for keeps. . .
Long before the world ever was. . . . As co-creator and creature both of the universe, it is man’s prerogative and innate yearning to stand erect. To bow down all the time leaves one eventually on one’s stomach. Man rose from the crawling position. There are too many yet who find the child’s position…
-
Have A Heart . . . Ours. . . .
In my life I have seen much damage done when people have been deeply wounded by emotions that could not be handled or words that cut and sliced the heart. Is it for us to walk untouched but acknowledging the emotions that devastate us and continue to live our lives with no further ado? Emotions…
-
Touchstones. . .
The strength of man is in himself and not in an Other. ***** Knowing what to say is a social skill. Meaning takes the form of action in the heart. ***** The emotions generated by an event in one’s life hold a panoramic view of the entire life. To dislodge one sacred cow will diminish…
-
Balanced Judgment. . . .
When appearance is all that reality is for some, that is all that counts. It is a common reality. Illusion is part of the game. Jesus said that seeing you will not see and hearing you will not hear. There is a world out there they are not aware of and it would take a…
-
Seeing, you will not see. . . .
These events have become connected in my life and documented, they stand. I have no credentials attached to my name but because I have been involved in an independent study on a daily basis for over a half century, if I dismiss them I would negate a substantial life. To say these events…
-
This Old House. . . consider this. . .
This Old House. . . . I am like this old house. I have windows that are broken or have shifted in the space designed for them. I have appendages that were once new rooms added on to make space for new dreams or for widening the premises for old forms expanding. There were…
-
The Weaver. . . .
A Kind Of World I Hoped To Build. . . . where hearts open to each other, where minds are keen on learning and where love intends to see its full bloom. Where beings are intent on growing to their fullness and work becomes a blessing. Do I want much? I want only what I…
-
August. . .
August. . . It is August and there is a sliver of breath inside the sill. The deep breath of autumn is, I think, a matter of time; perhaps only in the memory of the child anxious for the world of new books to open. Anxious for the toys of summer to be put aside…
-
Papa, I Plead Now. . . or the dream will go begging. . . .
It is long past the time for all people to stand and demand of themselves to be infused with a steel core to uphold their wobbly selves. We have stood by and watched the principles upon which we have built our lives and our children’s heritage broken and by pieces swept away. It is long…
-
Found Courage. . . .
There came a time when man decided to forget his Source and do life on his own. Since then it has been a game of catch up. Our progress has been nothing to shout about but there would be those who would argue with me about that. But for me it has been a matter…