tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22501766567663337012024-03-13T05:24:05.724-07:00Starsoundings JournalsRe-affirming spiritual values and commitments during the changing times on earth. Through written discourses, these Journals are intended to uplift the reader, stir the imagination, and open the doorways of what humanity can aspire to.StarSoundingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14288373178246397253noreply@blogger.comBlogger136125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2250176656766333701.post-11200456664522269952018-06-05T05:00:00.000-07:002018-06-05T05:00:08.380-07:00Forgiveness - It Changes Lives<div style="color: #333333; font-family: Calibri, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">
One of the most DIFFICULT practices and yet the EASIEST taught is the <span style="color: blue; text-decoration-line: underline;"><em><strong> Art of Forgiveness.</strong></em></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">" It's difficult because you have to do it for 40 days. If you miss a day, you have to start over. Even if you get to day 39 and you forget that day, you must start over. There's power in the numerology of 40 days. On<table align="right" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="yiv6344502225OneColumnMobile" style="margin-left: 5px; width: 200px;"><tbody>
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the other side of the equation, it's easy because when you do it, </span><em style="font-size: 12pt;">it works</em><span style="font-size: 12pt;">. </span></div>
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Whenever Forgiveness was presented at the Retreats there were often times quiet skepticism. (Yes, we know. We saw it on the faces looking back at us.) But, you listened respectfully because you trusted us to be teaching practices that work. </div>
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When someone writes about a success story with the 40 Day Forgiveness Practice, it inspires everyone. Not the least the woman who did it and got results half way into the 40 days. For the work of Forgiveness, is getting out of the way, relinquishing the need to rehash "the story" over and over, and to see the other person in a different light. To just let them be, and for you to be free of the entanglements.</div>
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Here's what came in an email recently. "I decided to try doing the forgiveness prayer with my next door neighbor who has been unpleasant and very difficult with us as neighbors. I have to admit, I was very skeptical, but <span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;">decided to do what you said and give it a shot. Without knowing it, the day I started was the same day our neighbor's mother-in-law died. (She had been staying with him and his wife - next door to us.)</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;">When I found out about the death, I decided to give them a mass card, in honor of the mother. (It's not something I would have ever done before.) Within a day or two, the neighbor saw my husband working outside and thanked him. Previously he would never make eye contact with us. Then, the wife came over and thanked us. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;">Since I began the Forgiveness Practice the neighbor actually has held a conversation with my husband, and he smiled at me in passing yesterday. WOW!! Everything feels very different between us now and it's only been 18 days. It does work, and I feel freer. " </span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;">This is the <span style="color: blue;"><em><strong>Art of Forgiveness </strong></em></span></span><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt;">which works in its own way, at its own pace, and in its own time! </span></div>
StarSoundingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14288373178246397253noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2250176656766333701.post-67912561843046621272018-05-02T12:00:00.002-07:002018-05-02T12:00:58.866-07:00Now What?<br />
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 10pt;">The nature of living or "be-ing" is activity. It's not possible to be in this life and not experience it. Or at least becoming aware of that. Living is movement. It's creative. It's doing. In the doing we're usually invested in the outcome. The results are generally predictable given the effort expended. When done, we take pride in the accomplishment, elevating the results to the next level, and then jumping right in as the next idea comes along. As soon as the idea takes form, a new level of activity begins anew.</span></div>
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Women too have a nature. Like the bees in a collective, we soar when nurturing, caring, tending, cleaning up or doing for others. If the bees were not around the food supply would end in four years. Like the bees, if women were not around the gentleness and nurturing we exude would also disappear making the world a harsher place. This care-taking is who we are and it's what we do.</div>
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But one day something happens. After being "actively out there" for so long you come full circle<br />
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and realize care-taking also means taking care of yourself too. On that day you say, "Stop! I need time off." It's a break from whatever work you've been doing or whatever activity has been consuming your time. Time off gives you permission to get away, recharge your batteries, travel perhaps, or do something totally different. It can be scary for some, or a glorious opportunity to re-invent yourself.</div>
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In one scenario your work is known and accepted and loved. The awards or accolades prove it. But if you stop that activity you might wonder, what if no one is there when you're ready to come back? That's the sticking point for many who think about taking care of themselves. The very act of being away for a period of time will stop them from experiencing renewal or the reinvention of themselves. They become stagnant like the lobster whose shell is too tight. The lobster must shed the shell, then somehow protect itself from predators while the new shell grows and hardens. Either way, if the lobster doesn't shed the shell it dies. If it does shed the shell, it might also die. The lobster always chooses to shed the shell. It's the activity nature of lobster!</div>
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The process of "care-taking" ourselves begins with periods of deep self-reflection. It's a form of<br />
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"taking stock" of where you are, mentally, physically and/or spiritually. Ask the hard questions. Where am I in my life? What do I want to be doing this time next year? What compels or motivates me? Where do I want to be spending my time? Will that fulfill me? Write down the answers then ask the questions again and again until the answers are refined.</div>
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When the self-reflection is done and you have a course of action outlined, ask yourself the most important question. What Now? That question puts into motion the next step for the direction you wish to go. Whatever the next step is, begin from right where you are. It's the most perfect place. If you're a mom or a teacher guiding children, it's the perfect place. If you're a grandmother taking care of grandchildren, it's the perfect place. If you work in your own business or for someone else, it's the perfect place. No matter where that place is, each of us has a role that contributes to the wholeness of all of us. From that place a new beginning emerges and your role in it is gloriously guaranteed.</div>
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<em> Jo Mooy - May 2018</em></div>
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StarSoundingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14288373178246397253noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2250176656766333701.post-53409597525038878862018-04-02T10:00:00.000-07:002018-04-02T10:00:08.758-07:00Walk in My Shoes<div style="background-color: #fff6c5; color: #403f42; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.3333px;">
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<strong>Walk in My Shoes</strong><br /></div>
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conversation. Then one woman, new to the group, asked if we'd seen any of the Academy Award movies. "Only 3 Billboards." I replied. "There's one you should really see." she said in a delightful French accent. She filled in some blanks about it, including the fact that Allison Janney from West Wing was nominated for Best Supporting Actress in the film.<br /><br />"What's the name of the movie?" I asked. "I,Tonya." she replied. "The ice skater who hit Nancy Kerrigan on the knee with a pipe at the Olympics? That Tonya?" Confirming it was Tonya Harding the conversation erupted into long held beliefs about Tonya Harding. There were many derogatory comments about Tonya's shortcomings; her sordid heritage; her lack of class; and her limited education. There was visible pain reflected on the face of the French woman when the comments degraded to calling Tonya, "white trash."<br /><br />One of the women, noticing the French woman's expression and wondering if the use of the word had escaped translation, asked, "Do you know what white trash means?" The French woman said she had never heard the word until she came to America and the word upset her greatly. She said she could never understand how Americans use the term so freely without any regard for another person. "There's such hate and a lack of compassion when they say the words," she said.<br /><table align="right" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="yiv1342381055OneColumnMobile" style="margin-left: 5px; width: 185px; word-break: break-word;"><tbody>
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<br />Sometimes, a seemingly casual conversation can turn into a powerful reveal. The conversation stopped. Staring at each one of us, she asked if we knew any of the hardships Tonya had gone through to achieve skating success. A few sheepishly said the only thing they knew about Tonya was what they had seen on the news. "You really should see the film, it may change your mind." she told us. Her words, filled with sadness, had a great impact on all of us. We vowed to see the film, not knowing how greatly it would change the conversation.<br /><br />From the age of three, Tonya was the victim of her mother's verbal and physical abuse. She was psychologically beaten down and told she was worthless. The only thing she could do well was ice skate. But her uniforms, hand-sewn and drab because the family had no money, brought her additional shame. When she married, her husband continued the physical beatings. She eventually dropped out of school to skate professionally but, because of her gritty background, never measured up to the more elegant and glamorous skaters. Her technical abilities, landing a perfect 6 in a Triple Axle at the US <table align="right" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="yiv1342381055OneColumnMobile" style="margin-left: 5px; width: 185px; word-break: break-word;"><tbody>
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Championships, were blemished by the Nancy Kerrigan incident. Though her husband was the mastermind, she was blamed and was banned from the sport she loved.<br /><br />A French woman, visiting the US, called us on the carpet for judging another person without understanding their background. While we all had strong opinions of Tonya, none of us had walked in her shoes. The film forced us to do that. We saw what had transpired in this woman's life to make her behave the way she did. How would we have taken the abuse? Would we have fought back to become a great skater like her? It was a major wake-up call.<br /><br />In this stridently polarized country we live in, judging another is a national pastime. We're all guilty of it. We do it easily and with great fanfare. We allow the news or social media to supply the opinions that we readily adopt as our own. And, we never seem to be concerned about how the judgments we own are levied on someone else. Why not? Perhaps it's because we've<table align="right" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="yiv1342381055OneColumnMobile" style="margin-left: 5px; width: 175px; word-break: break-word;"><tbody>
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all failed in the basic admonition, <em>Do not judge another until you've walked a mile in their shoes</em>! We left the film with a better understanding of Tonya. We rose to her defense. We vowed to be mindful of judging others. That's what happens when you <strong>Walk in My Shoes</strong>.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="color: blue; text-decoration-line: underline;"><strong>Post-Script: </strong></span> Mirai Nagasu landed a Triple Axel in the 2018 Korean Winter Olympics. The media went wild about the "historic accomplishment" for a woman to do three-and-a-half revolutions in the air and land on one foot. There was nary a mention that twenty-seven years ago (in 1991) Tonya Harding was the FIRST woman to do a Triple Axel in competition. Nary a mention! We remembered and <em style="font-size: 10pt;">We Walked in Your Shoes</em>, Tonya!<span style="color: #403f42; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"> </span></span></div>
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<em> Jo Mooy - April 2018</em></div>
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StarSoundingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14288373178246397253noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2250176656766333701.post-65612863364861757752018-03-02T13:17:00.000-08:002018-03-02T13:17:27.805-08:00Darius God and Ice Cream<div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1519911168101_329731" style="background-color: #fff6c5; color: #403f42; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.3333px;">
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<span id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1519911168101_329732" style="font-weight: 700;">Darius, God and Ice Cream</span><br /></div>
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<span id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1519911168101_329725" style="color: black; font-size: 10pt;">A sea of adults milled around at a late summer party. Sitting apart from the fray, a small form<table align="right" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="yiv8436466562OneColumnMobile" id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1519911168101_329724" style="margin: 0px 0px 0px 5px; padding: 0px; width: 175px; word-break: break-word;"><tbody id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1519911168101_329723" style="width: 185.6px;">
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with jet black curls bent over a tablet. He ignored the adults, tapping away on his computer. From the moment I saw him, I sensed he was unusual. When the party migrated outside I decided to sit with him. With one or two questions I learned his story. </span></div>
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<span id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1519911168101_329739" style="color: black;"><br />He told me he was named Darius "after the great Persian King Darius" asking if I heard of King Darius. Though I had heard of King Darius, young Darius filled in arcane information. I noticed the image of the Milky Way on his tablet. I thought, that's an unusual image for an 8 year old child. But I would soon learn this was normal for Darius. Especially when he showed me the general location of our solar system in what he called "the Interstellar Cloud." I was hooked.<br /><br />Every day when he comes home from school he watches the Science Channel. It's his favorite thing on TV. His vocabulary is off the charts. Precocious barely begins to describe his self awareness. I learned MIT is already recruiting him and as he told me, he's visited their campus and is taking online astrophysics classes. CNN was on in the background with weather staff talking about the 2017 hurricane season and what was in store for 2018. Listening, Darius corrected the meteorologists' descriptions of the storm, explaining to me the "<em>coefficient of</em><table align="right" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="yiv8436466562OneColumnMobile" style="margin: 0px 0px 0px 5px; padding: 0px; width: 220px; word-break: break-word;"><tbody style="width: 230.4px;">
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<em>wave energy in shallow and deep water.</em>" Not satisfied with that explanation, he then tied it to Einstein's theory of relativity.<br /><br />At that point, my interest in this kid went super-nova. I decided if Darius could talk about science the way he was, I'd ask this evolving genius his thoughts on other subjects, like Quantum Physics, the birth of the Universe, matter and non-matter. And so our afternoon conversation began.<br /><br />"Darius, how did the Universe come into being?" He swatted the answer quickly. "If you're asking me if God created the universe I don't believe in a God. There's absolutely no proof for such a concept. My mom says I should have Faith but that also proves nothing." I returned to the question. "Ok, so how did it originate?" He went into a lengthy explanation about the density of the largest Black Hole in existence which was at the center of all the known galaxies. Making sure I was following him, he asked, "You do know nothing exists inside a Black Hole, right?" I assured him I did but wondered if he would define a Black Hole as a void? <table align="right" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="yiv8436466562OneColumnMobile" style="margin: 0px 0px 0px 5px; padding: 0px; width: 200px; word-break: break-word;"><tbody style="width: 210.4px;">
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He answered, "No! It's simply density." He would return to that word "density" often during our conversation.<br /><br />I persisted in a reasoned line of questioning as I didn't want him to veer off into astrophysics leaving me in the dust. "Look out the window, Darius. Is that tree real?" He looked at it thoughtfully for a while, then said "It's a dense energy field." I agreed, then suggested he peel back the bark and examine it at it's cellular level. "Yes, different levels of density," he replied.<br /><br />Then I asked him to take it to its quantum level, that of a wave or a particle. "Very cool" he replied, asking how I knew about Quantum Physics. My stock was rising I imagined. "Is the tree real?" I asked. "To a degree. It's got density." he said. We continued the discussion at the Quantum level. I asked him, "What if we dissolved everything we could see out the window to the smallest sub-atomic level, like a quark, how did that come into existence?" As his extraordinary brain grappled with that question, he sat quietly for a while. After several minutes staring out the window he said in a most authoritative manner, "There was no beginning!"<br /><br />Satisfied with that answer the little boy in him asked, "You want to get some ice-cream?" I on the other hand, continue to be enthralled with the answer "There was no beginning!"</span></div>
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<em> Jo Mooy - March 2018</em></div>
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StarSoundingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14288373178246397253noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2250176656766333701.post-47782474775033199992018-02-05T05:46:00.000-08:002018-02-05T05:46:00.402-08:00It's TIME!I<span style="background-color: #fff6c5; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">t's impossible to ignore how stories about women have been taking over our daily</span><br />
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conversations. 2017 began with the Women's March on Washington. That was followed by determination and commitment when thousands of women not only registered to vote but began filling out paperwork to run for elective office. The momentum had begun!</span></div>
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<span id="yui_3_16_0_1_1517838130659_6986" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; color: black;">Then one day, one woman, fed up with men like film mogul Harvey Weinstein who had been preying on women for years, said </span><span id="yui_3_16_0_1_1517838130659_6994" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"><span id="yui_3_16_0_1_1517838130659_6993" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;"><em id="yui_3_16_0_1_1517838130659_6992" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">Enough!</em></span></span><span id="yui_3_16_0_1_1517838130659_6988" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; color: black;"> She went public. The reaction to her story was noticeably different than how women with similar stories had been treated in the past. She was soon followed by a tidal wave of women across every profession who bravely told their stories of sexual harassment in the workplace. It spawned a movement called #MeToo when women realized they were not alone. Though the media covered the military, capitol hill, entertainment, technology, and medicine, the greatest numbers of sexual assaults were in the under-reported industries of hotel and food services, retail and manufacturing. Those women, unheard by the press, came out in the millions to declare: #MeToo.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; color: black;">Merriam-Webster (the dictionary people) announced the word "</span><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">Feminism</span></span><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; color: black;">" was 2017's </span><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">Word</span><table align="right" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="yiv2976696331OneColumnMobile" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; margin: 0px 0px 0px 5px; padding: 0px; width: 150px; word-break: break-word;"><tbody style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; width: 160px;">
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<span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">of the Year</span></span><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; color: black;">. This followed on the heels of Time Magazine naming "</span><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">The Silence Breakers</span></span><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; color: black;">" as their </span><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">Person of the Year</span></span><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; color: black;">. Those headlines and magazine covers were the </span><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"><em style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">RESULT</em></span><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; color: black;"> of what had been simmering on the back burners of women's collective consciousness. Women got over their fears of retribution and career stifling by bringing down an A-List of predators in every industry. It's been a wake up call not only for women but also for decent men. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; color: black;">There was a time when the word "Feminism" or "Feminist" came with hostility. Seeing it named Word of the Year was gratifying. But I had a touch of sadness and melancholy that all the work done by an endless stream of women who came before, might be forgotten. I remembered the Anita Hill hearings in 1991 </span><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; color: #282828;">when a black University Professor was vilified by a panel of all white men. </span><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; color: black;">Women rose up in anger after Anita Hill's treatment and ran for office. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; color: black;">During the Presidential Debates that year Vice-Presidential candidate George H. Bush (who today is on the list of accused sexual harassers) was asked about women in the Senate. He said, "</span><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; color: black;"><i style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">Let's see how they do. I hope a lot of them lose</i></span><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; color: black;">." Voters ignored his comments because the following year, known as The Year of the Woman, five women were seated in the Senate. Today, 25 years later, there are 21 women in the 100-body Senate and more waiting to break down the door.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; color: #282828;">Cycles repeat themselves. Anita Hill's story lives on in The Silence Breakers. These women<table align="right" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="yiv2976696331OneColumnMobile" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; margin: 0px 0px 0px 5px; padding: 0px; width: 200px; word-break: break-word;"><tbody style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; width: 210px;">
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recognize that gender equality is an empowering movement who's time has come. It's found in the </span><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; color: #282828;"><i style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"><b style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">50/50 by 2030</b></i></span><span id="yui_3_16_0_1_1517838130659_7029" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; color: #282828;"> UN decree asking governments around the world to make a national commitment to address the challenges that are holding back women and girls from reaching their full potential. Will it succeed? Yes, when more women get elected. That will happen because Millennial women are no longer satisfied with the status quo. They're in the workforce. They're running companies. They know their worth and their value. They vote and they've had enough!</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; color: #282828;">The women's anthem of the 80's was a song called </span><span id="yui_3_16_0_1_1517838130659_7032" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; color: #282828;"><em id="yui_3_16_0_1_1517838130659_7031" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">Sisters are Doing It For Themselves</em></span><span id="yui_3_16_0_1_1517838130659_7034" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; color: #282828;">? The sisters of today are indeed doing it for themselves. They've linked arms across race, ethnicity and lifestyle to affect change in every culture. They are already changing the geo-political landscape. One of them will make Time Magazine's Person of the Year cover, a spot no woman has held by herself in 89 years. It's time, TIME! Women are not just in the room. They're at the table. <span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">It's Time</span>!</span></div>
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<em id="yui_3_16_0_1_1517838130659_7041" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"> Jo Mooy - February 2018</em></div>
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StarSoundingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14288373178246397253noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2250176656766333701.post-83990811079213403582018-01-05T05:36:00.000-08:002018-01-05T05:36:21.326-08:00THEIR TOMORROWS<div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1515158848305_8939" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; background-color: #fff6c5; color: #403f42; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.3333px;">
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It's 2018 - a New Year. Like every new year we embark on the same personal rituals which<br />
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usually distill down to the same thing. Transform or change something about ourselves and surely it will be a better year! Are tomorrows better than yesterdays? That answer depends on the individual's situation. But if we widen the focus on the lens the answer is clearer and probably yes. The future does look brighter though it will certainly not be familiar.<br />
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Current thinking says life unfolds in present moments. We're urged to follow "the six steps" or "ten steps" or "name the steps" that teach us to focus only on the present and the future will take care of itself. Normally, it's sane advice! But behind the curtain of all those present focused moments that consume us, the future is already screaming out about what's coming. Sadly, many who are reading this won't be around to experience it. But if we pull back the curtain on the obvious trends, the future that's ahead for the Millennials of the 21st Century and their children (Generation Z) reveal a look at Their Tomorrows.<br />
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Baby Boomers, once described as the largest population group on earth, have just been replaced by Millennials. Gratefully, they have vastly evolved ideas on ecology, technology, religion, race and jobs than their Boomer parents. That's a good thing. At 80 million strong, they're socially and environmentally conscious, better educated, will inherit great wealth from the Boomers, and are 95% electronically connected. Already they've convinced Wall Street to divest its holdings in fossil fuels proving through business models that billions will be lost if they don't. Their Tomorrows say fossil fuels like coal are dying while sustainables like wind and solar will surge in the future.<br />
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Europe and Asia are also defining Their Tomorrows by taking leadership roles in transportation, technology and environmental issues. As these young future leaders focus on reducing fossil fuels, the companies they've built are transitioning to self-driving cars while technology companies are planning to leapfrog their efforts. Ahead of that wave, Britain and Finland banned gas and diesel cars starting in 2040. Finland leads Europe in recycling and Germany leads in solar energy.<br />
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Right now most countries are focused on immigration and whites only diatribes, but by 2050 no single racial or ethnic majority will be dominant. Perhaps that realization is fueling the anger and hatred as old ways of life wither and die off. In fact, Millennials, will be the largest racially diverse group in history made up mostly of mixed-race Asians and Latinos. A future homogenized view of society will emerge and tolerance for other cultures finally has the chance of becoming the hallmark of Their Tomorrows.<br />
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10 Billion people will inhabit the planet by 2050 with Africa the most populous. India is expected to have a population of 1.6 billion people, equal to the US and China combined. But we're all getting old. The global population is aging and graying with Japan, South Korea, and Germany having the oldest citizens and the fewest births. The US will have more people age 65+ than those 15 and under. These global demographics will rip cultures and religions apart<br />
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as they struggle to re-invent themselves, and understand and release their old beliefs and out-dated moral structures.<br />
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Will this surge of humans cope with the future changes of Their Tomorrows? Probably yes. The same way they did when cars replaced horses; the same way they did when radios and jukeboxes replaced live musicians; and the same way they will now that technology has become an extension of our lives. But what about the psychic changes ahead?<br />
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We'll manage those too. For a great spiritual wave of introspection is forming, though for the present it's quite subtle. It asks us to examine our behavior to one another. It forces us to take a stand for the principles we proclaim. It makes us look in the mirror and accept our roles and responsibilities in our future and Their Tomorrows. It demands that all of us leave the world a better place than when we arrived. If we can do that, it's a certain guarantee that all of Their Tomorrows will be better. I only wish we were going to be alive to witness it.</div>
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<span id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1515158848305_8989" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"> <em style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"> Jo Mooy - January 2018</em></span></div>
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StarSoundingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14288373178246397253noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2250176656766333701.post-14915554186925042112017-12-01T10:58:00.001-08:002017-12-01T10:58:06.947-08:00THE ORDINARY PEOPLE<div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1511889529417_907193" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; background-color: #fff6c5; color: #403f42; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.3333px;">
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<span id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1511889529417_907195" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">The Ordinary People</span></div>
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2017 was a year defined by endless and unthinkable catastrophes. Charlottesville was a<br />
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watershed moment for the most hideous rants of white supremacists who wanted to turn the country backwards into bigotry and racism. Three record-breaking hurricanes destroyed homes, left residents in despair, and wiped out their jobs in industries ranging from chemicals to pharmaceuticals. Still numb from the daily updates of hurricane news, Las Vegas happened. Stunned silent again by another mass shooting the why and how could not be answered even after 58 deaths. When the fires in northern California erupted the burden of its immensity swamped whatever was left of our ragged emotions.<br />
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One morning while sitting in meditation all the calamities of 2017 passed across my vision. Feeling the pain of each event, tears fell from under my closed eyes. I wondered how humans<br />
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could continue to rally despite these endless setbacks. In answer a deep voice spoke in my head. The voice said "<em style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">They continue because of the ordinary people - the ordinary people - the ordinary people.</em>" After meditation was over I sat for a while pondering the message of <span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">The</span><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;"> Ordinary People</span> when the "ah-ha" moment arrived.<br />
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<span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">Who are The Ordinary People?</span> They're not jet-setters. They're not on the covers of magazines. They didn't invent anything. They hold jobs like firemen, nurses, gardeners, teachers, policemen, sales reps and clerks. They used to be called the "middle class" but many now work two or more jobs to make ends meet. They define themselves as spiritual rather than religious. They are the ones we see in the grocery store checkout lines, or at the car-wash, never giving each other a thought.<br />
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But we should! For Ordinary People do extraordinary feats. Without fanfare they rush into the path of danger. Ordinary People go to white supremacist rallies with their own banners supporting diversity or turn their backs on the speakers. Ordinary People is the nurse who stood her ground to protect her unconscious patient from an illegal blood test and got arrested for her efforts. Ordinary People create gatherings to collect clothing and food for the people destroyed by hurricane Maria in Puerto Rico. Ordinary People drive hundreds of miles towing their boats so they can rescue victims from the flood waters in Houston. Ordinary People are the police officers and rescue workers who rush directly into the path of 90 bullets a second. Ordinary people are terrified concert goers running away from the bullets. Ordinary People is<br />
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the man who made 58 crosses for the victims of Las Vegas and placed them on the Strip. And lest the animals be left behind, Ordinary People are those digging through the unstable rubble of an earthquake to rescue a child's puppy.<br />
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Ordinary People always say "<em style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">I'm no hero, anyone would have done it</em>." They're probably right. Ordinary People are the spiritual backbone of humanity. In the face of disasters they truly are "the first responders." When hatred becomes intolerant they hold high a moral compass setting a direction for others to follow. They open their hearts with compassion asking for no reward. They stand as beacons of service to the suffering of others.<br />
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This holiday season we remember all who lost their lives to natural disasters and those felled by man-made atrocities. And we honor all the Ordinary People who came to their aid. Like the Samoan Hotshot Firefighters who, after battling the northern California fires for days, came down the mountains singing a Samoan hymn <a href="http://r20.rs6.net/tn.jsp?t=xp8ghn8ab.0.0.zpiriacab.0&id=preview&r=3&p=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DVlJ647plh5c" rel="nofollow" shape="rect" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; background: transparent; color: blue; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px;" target="_blank" wotdonut="true">Fa afetai i le Atua</a><br />
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that roughly translates Thanks to God. Thank you and God Bless <span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">The Ordinary People!</span></div>
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<em style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; color: blue;">Jo Mooy - December 2017</span></em></div>
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StarSoundingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14288373178246397253noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2250176656766333701.post-38790511935225813602017-11-01T08:21:00.000-07:002017-11-01T08:21:17.907-07:00The Butterfly and the Rose<div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1509549334398_13768" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; background-color: #fff6c5; color: #403f42; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.3333px;">
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This journal is not about an unpopular election though it starts that way. It's not about who's on<br />
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the right or the left. It's actually about the <span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">aftermath</span> of an election twelve months ago and the ensuing chaos that resulted. It's a story of what was done to deal with the chaos consuming the external world and what we did to soothe our inner lives for the next 12 months.<br />
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A year ago the unthinkable happened. Fed up with politics as usual, a man without qualifications, a man demeaned in the media, a man said to be unelectable, and a man who appealed to the darkest and most unkind parts of our collective nature got elected. On November 7th we woke up to an unrecognizable normal. The world had turned upside down.<br />
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Half of the country was ecstatic. The other half was overcome by shock and disbelief. Surely, it was a big mistake. But as the days wore on the second group realized there was no mistake. Soon they were entombed in the five stages of grief beginning with denial. They reasoned, maybe the vile days of the campaign were over and sanity would be restored. When that hope<br />
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was rebuffed, they became enraged. Plans were made for massive marches on Washington or on congressional offices.<br />
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Some, holding to the spirit of reconciliation, decided to find out who the voters were. They went out to meet them in their homes and listen to what they said. They drove to the heartland and to cities between the two liberal coasts. They attempted a bargain, determined to understand exactly what happened on November 6th. Sadly, most of the understanding they sought evaporated as anger again surfaced.<br />
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Then depression arrived. It our household it descended like a vise-grip. Seeking solace the TV was turned off. We spent sad days staring into space. We wondered aloud how we'd survive the next four or maybe eight years. We gave up some friends who thought differently to us. The endless clashes of differing beliefs only served to strengthen the bitterness and divide between us.<br />
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Big events are inescapable. They happen outside our control. But personal reaction to them is always a choice, especially when the choice is to stand in the heart. It was clear our depressed<br />
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state of being could not continue for the foreseeable future. Sitting on the lanai one morning a butterfly landed on a brilliant pink rose and slowly spread its wings for a few minutes before flying off. The yellow of the butterfly, the hot pink rose, the green grass, and the blue skies came together like a living impressionistic painting. It was a vivid reminder that there was still beauty around us and <span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">A Butterfly and A Rose</span> could bring a smile and ease the soul.<br />
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Soft feelings of joy welled up from inside. Looking around the trees became intense green and the water on the lake was sparkling. An Osprey glided over the water searching for food. Things weren't so bleak. The natural world, oblivious to election results, proclaimed life goes on. Through that lens of reality one word surfaced slowly. It was Gratitude. No matter what was happening outside, there was always something to be grateful for. There was a choice on how to deal with the chaos around us. That choice was, "<em style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">stop wallowing and work with the tools we</em><br />
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<em style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">teach</em>." And in that moment a daily ritual began.<br />
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Using Facebook, a photo with an uplifting message asked friends to comment on something that brought them Gratitude. No one responded at first. But every day The Call to Gratitude went out. Soon, one or two replied, then it began to blossom, affecting many who read it. Comments were posted from friends and then friends of friends. No one posted that they won the lottery. Yet most reached down deep and found some small thing they were grateful for. A call from a grandson was the highlight of one day. Waking up without pain one morning was memorable for one. It wasn't the big things in life that called out Gratitude. Instead small day to day events, like finding a perfect paint color for a living room, were posted. The summons opened the door for individuals who only lurked to realize they too had something to say. Soon, the Gratitude posts spawned others to do the same with their own circle of friends.<br />
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The last stage of grief is acceptance. Gratitude as it turns out, is much richer and deeper than<br />
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the acceptance of the election. When reminded, everyone searched for something to be grateful for. That practice soothed their own stages of grief. Many called it their morning medicine. A year later it's grown from a personal practice to a movement.<br />
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This month is the national holiday of Thanksgiving. But the Call to Gratitude practice happens every day. It reminds those who read it to a pause every morning and focus on something to be grateful for. It could be greeting the rising sun, or walking in the rain, or a friendly smile in the grocery store. That daily ritual puts life in perspective and reminds you to paint personal butterflies on roses. Wishing you all endless days of Gratitude for all the small things that bring joy into your life.</div>
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<span id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1509549334398_13782" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"> <em id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1509549334398_13788" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"> Jo Mooy - November 2017 </em></span></div>
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StarSoundingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14288373178246397253noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2250176656766333701.post-73692858038558393772017-10-01T05:30:00.000-07:002017-10-01T05:30:35.843-07:00FINDING THE FULCRUM<div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1506801349740_86999" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; background-color: #fff6c5; color: #403f42; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.3333px;">
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I read an article recently where Feng Shui was described as the "art of placement." If you don't<br />
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know anything about Feng Shui it's an ancient Chinese system of orienting your space in relation to the flow of energy. Without minimizing the system, furniture, pictures, plants, color and lighting are adjusted or moved around a room (or building) by determining where energy is flowing through the windows or doors. Hard edges are repositioned or softened so balance prevails in the living space.<br />
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I wondered if this "art of placement" could be applied to living life in the chaotic years of the 21st Century. Why? Because no matter what the situation is, global or local, monumental or minuscule, vocal or visual, it results in tirades of right versus wrong causing glaring displays of disharmony and unbalance. It's hideously evident in the digital walks on Facebook or Twitter. Or any social media for that matter.<br />
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This daily digital prowl connects us with people across the globe that we've never met and probably won't. Yet, at the click of a button we're entangled in discussions with these people<br />
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where we judge their views by liking what they say or do, or we hurl insults if we don't. The old town plaza where citizens met to discuss local affairs with a degree of civility, (even if you disagreed,) has erupted into a global free-for-all where most opinions are stridently right or left and few neutral. Those on the left are perplexed at the ignorance or stupidity of those on the right. Those on the right are stunned that the lefties can't see the obvious truths of what's right in front of their eyes.<br />
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How do we get through this convoluted maze? How can we stand in balance without shattering our collective sensibilities? The "art of placement" came to mind. The inner room (the being) needed to have it's furniture (beliefs) and pictures (opinions) and even its lighting (spiritual guidance) adjusted so that harmony and balance could be restored. Doing that required an extraordinary act of <em style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">Finding the Fulcrum.</em><br />
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A fulcrum is the place where an even distribution of weight allows something, or someone, to remain upright and steady without tipping over. Most of the time it's dead center like the<br />
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centerpiece that a see-saw balances on. But when things are unbalanced the Fulcrum has to move to right or left. <span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">WE</span> have to, with superhuman effort, become the Fulcrum. When the demons of Facebook, Twitter and the News demolish our sense of justice, hold a moment. Recognize the constrictions taking place within the inner room. Where is the barrage of tight energy coming from? Halting your beliefs and opinions, or moving them around in your inner space will allow you to <em style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">Find the Fulcrum</em>.<br />
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Spiritual guidance always determines the balance point. The energetic poisons bombarding the room can be removed or suspended. That simple change in perspective will mitigate the contracting flow by allowing you to detach from the need to be right. Realizing the attack is a fear or a cry for help can unleash compassion. Seeing the bigger picture becomes the biggest re-balancer for this is where the fulcrum is most needed.<br />
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When something is squeezed too tightly there must be an equal release. That's the nature of balance. Darkness, or evil, will be met with light. Constriction will be met with wisdom. Criticism<br />
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will come up against respect. Despair will be met by hope. By witnessing the energies and moving the fulcrum so that our perspective changes, we do the work that moves human consciousness forward. Ultimately, the right and the left are always in balance though we seldom see it. Yet, when either is constricted it causes the other side of the see-saw to sway and rebalance. That sway is consciousness moving.<br />
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The message is one of balance no matter the presentation. Do something! If we see weeds and feel they don't belong there, pull the weeds. If we see petunias, delight in the colorful petunias. Everyone will see something different. Those with the insight to understand <span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; text-decoration-line: underline;">that</span> will continue <em style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">Finding the Fulcrum</em>. They are the true artists in restoring the balance.</div>
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StarSoundingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14288373178246397253noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2250176656766333701.post-62668556046503344422017-08-20T08:47:00.000-07:002017-08-20T08:48:19.279-07:00Spiritual Significance of the Solar Eclipse<div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1502652025540_1071085" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Corbel, Geneva, Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">
<span id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1502652025540_1071084" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-size: 12pt;">A Solar Eclipse occurs across the <span id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1502652025540_1071083" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; text-decoration-line: underline;"><span id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1502652025540_1071082" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">entire US</span></span> for the first time since 1918. I've received many inquiries about the Eclipse asking about its spiritual or esoteric significance.<table align="right" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="yiv9887798530OneColumnMobile" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; margin: 0px 0px 0px 5px; padding: 0px; width: 200px; word-break: break-word;"><tbody style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; width: 210px;">
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This eclipse is getting lots of publicity. Each person reading this newsletter can Google the eclipse and come up with their own conclusions. For those who really want to understand what's happening on deeper levels read on. What I've written is based on my reflections of why this is such a major event and why we not only need to prepare for it, but determine how each will personally participate in it. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; text-decoration-line: underline;"><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">PLANETARY INFLUENCES</span></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-size: 12pt;">As a background, ancient civilizations used Cosmology, Astronomy and Astrology to teach how planets affect life on earth. All life including humans evolved from the soup of gases and molecules of the stars. Hindu teachings say the orbits of stars and planets act as a 'cosmic clock' timing events that affect human life. History records many events affected by comets and eclipses. That's why we pay attention to those occurring within our field of view, like this Eclipse.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; text-decoration-line: underline;"><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">PATH OF THE ECLIPSE - TOTALITY</span></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-size: 12pt;">The moon will pass between the earth and the sun on August 21, 2017. The TOTAL Eclipse will be seen at 9 am in Oregon. It ends in South Carolina at 4 pm. It will be<table align="right" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="yiv9887798530OneColumnMobile" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; margin: 0px 0px 0px 5px; padding: 0px; width: 200px; word-break: break-word;"><tbody style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; width: 210px;">
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visible in SW Florida as a PARTIAL eclipse (74% of it visible) starting at 1:18 pm with MAX viewing at 2:50 pm. It ends at 4 pm. <span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">DO NOT LOOK AT THE ECLIPSE WITHOUT GLASSES.</span></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">CONSIDER</span> - The path of the Eclipse - light and darkness - starts in the <em style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">liberal state of Oregon</em> and ends in the <em style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">conservative state of South Carolina</em>. Both locations begin with sunlight, then pause for 2 minutes and 40 seconds of darkness, before the sun's light returns. I believe we are not immune to planetary cycles and are in fact reflective of them. Eclipses don't happen in a vacuum but build up in energy to the actual event. My symbolic interpretation relative to the Eclipse is that the recent events in Charlottesville brought hatred and <em style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">darkness</em> clearly onto the national stage even as others held a vigil of <em style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">light</em> against it.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; text-decoration-line: underline;"><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">NUMEROLOGY OF THE ECLIPSE</span></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">Albert Einstein developed the Theory of Relativity, but in order to prove it, he needed an Eclipse. The <span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">1919</span> Eclipse proved his point that <em style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">"Space and time are interwoven into a single continuum."</em> Most numerologists would take the number <table align="right" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="yiv9887798530OneColumnMobile" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; margin: 0px 0px 0px 5px; padding: 0px; width: 200px; word-break: break-word;"><tbody style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; width: 210px;">
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<span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">1919</span> and total it to 20 which is the number for Duality. It would be more accurate, but I "saw" a different number. I took 19 by itself and "saw" the 1 as the beginning and 9 as the end. Then seeing it occur twice doubled the numerological message of alpha and omega - beginning and end. It impressed that "two sides" must come together as one or it will be the end.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">This Eclipse occurs in <span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">2017</span> - another 1 year or new beginning. The date is <span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">08/21</span>. Added together it's an 11 year. 11 has spiritual significance. It is the number of <em style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">Revelation & Inspiration from a Higher Plane</em>. It is "<em style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">Brotherly Love</em>" on a grander stage. 11 is the Spiritual Messenger. So my interpretation is this Eclipse has great magnetism associated with it.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; text-decoration-line: underline;"><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">SOLAR - LUNAR ENERGIES</span></span></div>
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The Sun and Moon radiate different energies. The Sun affects the Masculine Right side and is extroverted or outgoing. The Moon affects the Feminine Left side and is<br />
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Introverted and receptive. These energies will interact suddenly, starting and stopping in a shortened period of time. Because of that, noticeable changes will be felt. The influx of Solar masculine energy will be halted as the Lunar feminine energy holds sway. Silence and stillness will result for those few minutes like a holding of the breath. This will be like Cosmic Pranayama.</div>
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This section is the most esoteric of the teachings on the Eclipse. 12th Century Mystic <span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">Ibn Arabi</span> said "<em style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">the Moon is under the governance of Venus - the planetary symbol of Love."</em> He said "<em style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">The moon is a vehicle for spiritual revelation and it relates to the transformation of Primordial Sound. The 28 sacred sounds that begin with HU control the Lunar Cycles.</em>" This is a study by itself. Retreaters should dig out their books on HU to understand its deeper meaning. But there's an inherent message that the Moon is under the governance of Venus, the planet of Love.</div>
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<span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">As a Solar Eclipse pulls consciousness inward our personal spiritual practices are magnified. It's an auspicious time to reflect on changes we wish to bring into our work and make a commitment to them. There's an enhanced awareness of alternate<table align="right" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="yiv9887798530OneColumnMobile" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; margin: 0px 0px 0px 5px; padding: 0px; width: 150px; word-break: break-word;"><tbody style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; width: 160px;">
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dimensions of time and space. </span><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-size: 12pt;">Suffice to say, preparation for the darkness requires planning. Will it be a time of reflection or simply "watching the eclipse." What happens when the sun goes dark? How will you respond? As the sun goes dark, there will never be a more powerful opportunity to "seed an intention." That intention will return even greater benefit as the sun's light accepts it. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-size: 12pt;">As Ibn Irabi said about sound and the lunar cycle, you might consider chants. Sound will change atmosphere and environment. So consider a meditation like the Medicine Buddha. If the weather is overcast and you're unable to be outside, the effects are still upon you. You can also do your work while <a href="http://r20.rs6.net/tn.jsp?t=4zc6he8ab.0.0.zpiriacab.0&id=preview&r=3&p=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.nasa.gov%2Feclipselive" rel="nofollow" shape="rect" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; background: transparent; color: blue; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px;" target="_blank">NASA streams it live</a>.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; text-decoration-line: underline;"><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">OUR ROLES</span></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-size: 12pt;">We are not scheduling any beach or ceremonial event associated with this Eclipse. Instead, we're doing our own spiritual practices in a silent Retreat. In silence, in the dark Moon, within the containment of sound, great things can be seeded and will unfold. </span><span id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1502652025540_1071128" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-size: 12pt;">We look forward to hearing about yours.</span></div>
StarSoundingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14288373178246397253noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2250176656766333701.post-1449716680740677622017-08-01T10:00:00.001-07:002017-08-01T10:00:17.303-07:00Coming Home<div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1501368955246_554284" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; background-color: #fff6c5; color: #403f42; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.3333px;">
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The words "spiritual teacher" in the brochure caught my attention. He was the guest speaker at<br />
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a metaphysical center I attended in the late 1970's. When he walked into the conference room, I saw a gentle man with a round face and wavy shoulder length yellow hair. He'd come to talk about his book,<em id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1501368955246_554280" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"><span id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1501368955246_554279" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;"> "Coming Home - The Experience of Enlightenment in Spiritual Traditions."</span></em> The title was scholarly, shedding light on his PhD background in Comparative Religion. His name was <a href="http://r20.rs6.net/tn.jsp?t=rtcook9ab.0.0.zpiriacab.0&id=preview&r=3&p=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.lexhixon.com%2F" rel="nofollow" shape="rect" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; background: transparent; color: blue; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px;" target="_blank">Lex Hixon</a>.</div>
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At the end of his presentation, the audience rushed to meet him carrying their copies of the book "Coming Home" for him to sign. I watched from my seat as one after another shook hands with him, or engaged in brief conversation. As the swell of people diminished I got up to leave. But something stopped me. Turning around I went back towards him wondering, "Why are you doing this and what do you plan to say to him?" In fact, I had nothing to say, but when I stood in front of him, the words, "You are a friend of my soul" came tumbling out of my mouth. As I heard the strange words I thought to myself, "What are you saying to this stranger?"<br />
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He took my hand in his and looked into my eyes. The words I'd just said felt like they were taking form. He said, "I know those words. You too are a friend of my soul." Then he asked, "Would you come to my home in NYC tomorrow?" and I, without knowing this stranger, or what I was agreeing to said, "Yes." He gave me his home address in Riverdale overlooking the Hudson and told me to come at 9 a.m.<br />
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Continuing this strange meeting, and completely out of character, I told no one where I was going that Saturday morning. On the drive into NYC I kept asking myself, "Are you crazy - No one knows where you're going - You could be meeting an axe-murderer." Yet I kept going arriving at his high rise apartment off the Henry Hudson Parkway exactly at nine. He greeted me at the door in a Buddhist robe, asked me to remove my shoes, then ushered me into a very sparsely decorated Zen home. He then asked me if I knew why I was there. I said no, but was compelled to come. He asked me if I knew how to meditate. I said yes.<br />
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Next, he asked if I knew who Kali was. I didn't at the time. So he took me into another room where a large bronze Kali was sitting on a small table with incense, a candle and an altar cloth. There were no furnishings in that room other than a cushion in front of Kali. He asked me if I had a meditation shawl. I said no. He left the room, returning with a long white shawl with maroon borders. He placed it over my shoulders, lit the candle and incense, and told me to sit with Kali <span style="font-size: 10pt;">and come out when I felt ready. Then he left.</span><br />
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I sat with Kali for almost two hours. I studied her ferocious face and many arms. I meditated. I<br />
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thought about the surreal day I was spending. I meditated some more. Eventually the candle and incense burned down and my legs had grown numb so I got up and came out of the "Kali room." He was nowhere around. So I went into an adjoining room I concluded was his library as it was filled with books on every religious topic. He came in to find me holding a large book, The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna. He said, "Ah, you've found Sri Ramakrishna. You need that book and the Works of Vivekananda." He added, "You should also study The Way of Zen."<br />
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We talked a while into mid-afternoon. Then by some unspoken agreement it was time for me to go. I removed the shawl still around my shoulders, folded it, and handed it back to him. He said, "No, that shawl is now yours. I received it from a sage in India and now I give it to you. The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna is also yours to keep." He walked me to the door, bowed to me and we said goodbye.<br />
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Though my time with him was only several hours long, he turned out to be one of the greatest catalysts on my journey on the esoteric path. Though when we met I had no idea who he was or how he would later influence me. You see, Lex Hixon was a mystic who immersed himself in the major religions of the world which he called "parallel sacred worlds." He was a disciple of Swami Nikhilananda of the Ramakrishna-Vivekananda Center in NYC, a well known and respected Sufi master. As host of New York City's WBAI In The Spirit, he regularly interviewed the leading spiritual and religious teachers of the 20th century. This gentle unassuming man was also an artist, musician, scholar, and spiritual author.<br />
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;">His last words to me on that Saturday in New Jersey were, "Wherever you are, be at home!" Little did I know that I'd never see him again for Lex died at age 53. I still have the shawl he gave me, along with The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna and The Works of Vivekananda. I read The Way of Zen many times. Each time I fondly remembered that Saturday with Lex Hixon. </span></div>
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Though I never saw him again, I knew our connection was real when, 35 years later, on a spiritual retreat, my teacher wanted me to memorize The Heart Sutra. He handed me three different translations and told me to choose one. When I got to page two of the translation I'd chosen tears welled up. It had been translated by none other than Lex Hixon. Lex was right when he told me, "Wherever you are, be at home!" In the briefest moment in time, he was the guide who directed me on the path of Coming Home!</div>
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<span id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1501368955246_554327" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"> <em id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1501368955246_554325" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"> Jo Mooy - August 2017 </em></span></div>
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StarSoundingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14288373178246397253noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2250176656766333701.post-86838670665362116912017-07-01T13:18:00.000-07:002017-07-01T13:18:26.697-07:00The Log<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1498653727761_504089" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; background-color: #fff6c5; color: #403f42; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.3333px;">
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In the pantheon of US holidays, fourth of July was always my favorite. It was special because I spent twenty five summers in Provincetown at the very tip of Cape Cod. The holiday required no gifts, no family dynamics, no emotional drama. It was so simple. You watched a parade, went to the beach, had a BBQ with friends, then enjoyed the fireworks in the evening. It was a holiday that represented summer, sun, and fond friendships that for me lasted over thirty years.<br />
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<span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">The Log</span> was an old wooden beam about twelve feet long that washed up in Provincetown bay. It landed on the beach in front of the Crown & Anchor hotel where it remained for years. It was well-known as a landmark. To our group, <span id="yui_3_16_0_1_1498653727761_504097" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">The Log</span> represented stability, continuity, and our personally marked territory on July 4th. Because everyone on Cape Cod wanted to come to Provincetown to see the fireworks, <span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">The Log</span> was deemed our gathering place on July 4th.<br />
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To secure it, we had to claim <span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">The Log</span> and that section of beach by 7 a.m. the morning of the holiday. We took umbrellas, beach chairs, blankets and all the paraphernalia we would need during the celebration to mark this blackened beam as ours. One person was chosen to remain and hold <span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">The Log</span> until we all arrived with coolers later in the day. It wasn't hard duty because the Crown & Anchor played patriotic music all day long. And the people watching was superb.<br />
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Now, thirty years later, things have changed. The country still celebrates July 4th with parades, gatherings and fireworks. Those long ago summer days are sweet but distant memories. Those pals from the Cape got older. Most of us moved away. Like so many quaint places in Provincetown, the "old Crown & Anchor" is now an upscale hotel, too grand to host non-guests on its beach by the bay. You might wonder what happened to<span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;"> The Log</span>? It was dredged up and unceremoniously hauled away when the Crown & Anchor was remodeled.<br />
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Every July 4th holiday I think of those friends. I can still smell the beach and the gunpowder from the fireworks. And I always hear Kate Smith belting out <em style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">God Save America</em> from "The Crown's" speakers. Her voice and that song say July 4th for me. But <span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">The Log</span> is the grandest memory of all. For it was our touchstone no matter what was happening in the world.<br />
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You see, <span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">The Log</span> was our metaphor in time and space. Those summer days on <span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">The Log</span> sheltered us when AIDS was rampant and the world's financial markets were in disarray. <span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">The Log</span> gatherings allowed us to laugh, remember, forget, sing oldies, and eat lobsters. <span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">The Log</span> was where we said goodbye to friends lost to AIDS and where we welcomed new ones into our midst. Each summer when we returned to the Cape <span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">The Log</span> was still there on the beach, promising us that all was well in our little world.<br />
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<span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">The Log</span> is long gone but the message it left behind is easy to recall. To everything there is a season and a time to every purpose under heaven. Spiritual teachings say that everything is in a state of becoming, living, then dying and becoming again. <span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">The Log's</span> message is, everything is in transition. It reminds that rituals are necessary in the human experience and celebrations a tonic. Thirty years later I still love Kate Smith and fireworks and still hold those friends close. But, as things change so did my new favorite holiday which is Thanksgiving. I also know that one day, this too shall pass! That's the real message of <span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">The Log.</span> </div>
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StarSoundingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14288373178246397253noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2250176656766333701.post-54946661945735019332017-06-02T14:46:00.000-07:002017-06-02T14:46:21.768-07:00WU WEI - The Art of Doing Nothing<div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1495994587669_398666" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; background-color: #fff6c5; color: #403f42; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.3333px;">
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"<em id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1495994587669_398663" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">Sitting quietly. Doing nothing. Spring comes. And the grass grows by itself."</em> This Haiku poem<br />
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by Matsuo Basho (1600's) floated into my inbox one morning after the US election. Sitting quietly and doing nothing was definitely not part of my game-plan that day. But, I tucked it away thinking if things "settled down" I'd revisit it at a later date.<br />
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Things didn't settle down! After the inauguration the country was more divided than ever before. Visible agitation and personal anguish were expressed everywhere. Some felt we were on a runaway train back to the dark ages. Friendships became irretrievably broken. Sadly in other cases, long term marriages or relationships ended because of election results. The very active "group-mind" behind the right and the left were at polar opposites. Neither side could agree on any topic.<br />
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After a few months sitting in this symbolically stretched-thin rubber band, I was at a loss on how to move forward. Then I remembered two spiritual teachers and the practices they taught me for when things seemed most bleak. The first was to <em style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">be consciously aware of what you're doing</em> and the second, reflect on <em style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">what is actually transpiring behind the obvious appearances</em>. So I took stock of my daily life. Being tied to the computer (which supports our many projects and seminars) was partly to blame. Bombarded by constant news flashes I was swallowed up with<br />
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anxiety just like everyone else. I had to do something pro-active. I clicked a few buttons and disabled the News Briefs, Facebook, and Twitter posts. Instantly my knee-jerk reactions to every breaking headline or post stopped. Ease entered the work-day. I focused on creative work instead of the chaotic news cycles with their inane talking-head commentaries.<br />
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Then,<em style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"> "Spring came and the grass began to grow by itself."</em> I remembered the Haiku to <em style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">"sit quietly and do nothing.</em>" What an indulgence that seemed. I looked up the concept of sitting quietly and doing nothing and found <span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">Wu Wei.</span> It's one of the greatest principles in Taoism known as "<em style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">action in non-action</em>." That sounds like a contradiction but it's not. It's actually allowing our actions to happen effortlessly and finding that the actions are in fact, part of a greater flowing alignment. So I sat quietly, doing meditation practices, sending healing and blessing to governments around the world. A contented feeling washed over me that "<em style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">the grass would grow by itself</em>" or in other words, "<em style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">All is well."</em><br />
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While I wasn't immune to the daily news, the practice of Wu Wei allowed the second spiritual<br />
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practice to form. I started looking behind what was actually transpiring and saw a bigger picture emerge. Reasoned individuals who had long been silent were mobilizing in support of their views. People who didn't care what was happening in the outer world, began to care again. They were marching, writing Congress, completing polls, contacting friends, attending Town Hall meetings, and some even taking the dramatic first step of running for public office. They were organizing into waves of action in a flowing alignment.<br />
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I'm much older now than the days when I too marched on Washington for various causes. Those marches in the 60's and 70's set in motion civil rights, the US withdrawal from Viet Nam, women's rights, Roe v. Wade and gay rights. The ones marching and lobbying today, along with those content with the status quo, will also see the results of their efforts playing out in the years to come. If actions are in alignment with a common purpose, and intended for the good of all, we'll experience the results of all their efforts. It's happened before and it will again. In fact, it's much like experiencing an exquisite cup of tea.<br />
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Why tea? Consider what transpires unseen and unknown behind a cup of tea. Things are happening behind the scenes. It grows in the higher elevations of the earth. Tropical clouds<br />
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overhead create the rain that waters the tea bush. Human hands lovingly pick three or four perfect leaves from each stem, drying them for days before the crop goes to market. Auction houses buy the tea then ship it to the various countries to be purchased by brand or type by ordinary consumers.<br />
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Each cup of tea you enjoy contains an immense geological, geographical, political and social history. The visible and invisible efforts of the elements of earth, water, air, fire, and human hands create that exquisite cup. That's exactly what's happening in the external world. Our collective consciousness is affected by the activities of everyone who demonstrates for change. Some do it quietly on the internal world, seemingly doing nothing. Some do it fiercely in the outer world by marching, organizing, and lobbying. All put their desires into action, aligning with a purpose.<br />
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Wu Wei says there is "action in non-action." Whether we're active or not, the tea still grows. In time a delicious brew awaits us. Or as Julian of Norwich said, "All is well!"</div>
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StarSoundingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14288373178246397253noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2250176656766333701.post-17524263365677234422017-05-02T08:35:00.000-07:002017-05-02T08:35:28.136-07:00Life After Death<div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1491479175276_7049805" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; background-color: #fff6c5; color: #403f42; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.3333px;">
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After physical death there's an inherent part of the human psyche to believe that the soul, or its<br />
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equivalent, goes into another realm of being. From earliest childhood I saw beings from other worlds in dreams or with an inner sight. When I got old enough to attend school, the nuns and Jesuits replaced those visions with stories of heaven, hell and purgatory. Stories of spirits were drummed out of me. It took many years to unravel that indoctrination and resurrect the more real imagery of my childhood.<br />
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I was 25 when my grandmother "Bobo" died. Two weeks after her passing she appeared in what I thought was a dream. Except I'd opened my eyes and she was standing there in a long white gown next to my bed. She took an object out of her pocket and handed it to me. I said "It's the number 8. She said, "Turn it on its side." The message for "infinity" was clear. In April on her 88th birthday, her daughter, my Aunt Polly, died. As I wrote the numbers 88, the hair on my neck stood up with the coincidence of Bobo's infinity message.<br />
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Polly was my hero from the age of 12. She was an independent woman who did things her way. She drove a green convertible MG sports car before graduating to a big truck. She built things. She rode motorcycles. She loved fished and boating. She was All City and All State in softball and basketball. She traveled and camped in a van all over the country with her life partner. Diagnosed with breast cancer at the age of 40, she told the surgeon she'd survive. She did for 48 more years until she was felled by a stroke.<br />
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Our family gathered for her funeral in Jacksonville. Most of her contemporaries had already passed on so it was a small gathering. I wanted to be alone with her for a few minutes so<br />
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waited until all the visits, tributes and accolades were over before entering the little chapel. I was now alone with her in the now dim room. </div>
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I stood in front of the casket to thank her for the influences she had in my life; for the role model she represented to me as a strong, proud and independent woman; for teaching me to drive in her MG; and to water ski on my first try. (It helped that she told me alligators were in the river.)<br />
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I told her I didn't want to see her frail condition as she died, but would stand with Janet, her life partner, and the family in saying goodbye. Finally I said, "I love you Aunt Polly." The moment I said those words, I love you Aunt Polly, a white flower in the large flower arrangement that was on top of her casket fell. In slow motion, the flower hit the casket, bounced off, and came to rest on the floor in front of me. Intuitively I felt her, knew she'd heard me, and this was her message back to me. It was the only time I shed tears.<br />
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I went out to find the family and tell them what had just happened. They asked where was the<br />
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flower. I said on the floor. They insisted we go back and get it. As we walked into the chapel two men from the funeral home were wheeling the casket out a side door. The only thing left where the casket had been was the white flower. It now sits on our altar.<br />
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The following night I had a dream about Aunt Polly. She was dressed in a white summer dress. Her hair was curly and short. She was about 35 and looked radiant. She was "hosting" a memorial service for everyone at a swank white restaurant. Then she whispered to the family members, "<em style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">Let's get this thing over with so I can change into shorts and a T-shirt. I'm going fishing then we're going to eat at a real Fish Camp.</em>" With those words, I knew Aunt Polly was just fine and had survived <span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">Life After Death</span>!</div>
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<span id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1491479175276_7051043" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"> <em id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1491479175276_7051041" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"> Jo Mooy - May, 2017 </em></span></div>
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StarSoundingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14288373178246397253noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2250176656766333701.post-15345706130236124792017-04-02T10:28:00.001-07:002017-04-02T10:28:34.269-07:00The Mosquito and the Dove<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1490614431122_1839335" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; background-color: #fff6c5; color: #403f42; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.3333px;">
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<span id="yui_3_16_0_1_1490614431122_1839341" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-size: 13.3333px;">One is a tiny annoyance, buzzing around and biting the unsuspecting victim. The other is a gentle bird making cooing sounds and threatening no one. One is a menace to anyone enjoying an afternoon in the park. The other sings its songs in the enjoyment of the park. But can a mosquito or a dove change your life? Yes if you've killed one. Such is the story of the Mosquito and the The Dove. </span><br />
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<span id="yui_3_16_0_1_1490614431122_1839349" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-size: 13.3333px;">When I was six years old, my playmates were all boy cousins. We traveled as a "pack" playing games or trying to outdo one another in contests of strength or skill. One day we decided to make sling shots. It took hours to choose the right tree branch, cut it to size, and carve the V-shape just so. Finally, each of us had a perfect sling shot. Next we had to find our prey.</span><br />
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<span id="yui_3_16_0_1_1490614431122_1839352" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-size: 13.3333px;">We set up a target and fired small stones at it. Then growing bored, the boys began to aim at</span> <span id="yui_3_16_0_1_1490614431122_1839358" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-size: 13.3333px;">birds in the sky, missing each one. Taunts and wagers filled the air as each stone flew wide of its mark. Then I spotted a mourning dove on the ground near a distant hedgerow and announced I could hit it. My cousins jeered telling me there was no way I could hit anything that far away. I drew back the rubber sling, aimed at the mourning dove and hit it. I watched in horror as feathers flew and the bird disappeared in the undergrowth.</span><br />
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<span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-size: 13.3333px;">Though I survived the cheers and back slaps of my cousins my eyes filled with tears. When the boys went off to other pursuits I went to the place I'd last seen the mourning dove. On hands and knees I searched for her. Reaching into the dead leaves at the bottom of the shrubs I looked for feathers. There were none. Sobbing, I looked for blood. There was none. I pulled all the low branches of the shrubs aside, examining each one. I knew I'd hit the dove with a stone but there was no evidence of the bird. I went home bereft. </span><br />
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<span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-size: 13.3333px;">That night in bed I imagined the injured bird had hidden itself from me. I saw her nest with the<table align="right" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="yiv6754016859OneColumnMobile" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; margin: 0px 0px 0px 5px; padding: 0px; width: 200px; word-break: break-word;"><tbody style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; width: 210px;">
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</span><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-size: 13.3333px;">eggs now untended. I knew she was dying alone somewhere, all because of me. In the silly moment of showing off to my cousins that I was as good a shot, or better than them, I'd killed an innocent creature. The pain wracked me with guilt and grief. I knew, even at the age of six, that it was wrong and I had not only hurt it, but something precious inside of me also died. I cried myself to sleep that night and many nights after. Decades later I still live with the sadness of taking the life of this most gentle of innocent creatures. To compensate I declared the mourning dove my totem, treasuring them and their sounds ever since.</span><br />
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<span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-size: 13.3333px;">Years later a spiritual master told me his story of killing a mosquito. He was playing with his grandchildren and heard a mosquito buzzing them. The kids began to cry because the mosquito had bitten them. So with determination he stalked the mosquito, killing it. He said he knew better but felt no guilt about it. He didn't question whether he should have or shouldn't have killed it. But suddenly everything froze. He went into twelve seconds of silence realizing he had killed something that he was intricately connected to. He was the food of this insect. And in that realization he was the instrument that killed that which he was part of.</span><br />
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<span id="yui_3_16_0_1_1490614431122_1840889" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-size: 13.3333px;">We talked about the killing of the dove and the mosquito. It didn't matter whether the dove was not deserving of death or the mosquito deserving of death for biting humans. Both were<table align="right" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="yiv6754016859OneColumnMobile" id="yui_3_16_0_1_1490614431122_1840888" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; margin: 0px 0px 0px 5px; padding: 0px; width: 164px; word-break: break-word;"><tbody id="yui_3_16_0_1_1490614431122_1840887" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; width: 174px;">
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</span><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-size: 13.3333px;"> entwined in this vast network of life, each dependent on the other. He told me that when humans begin to function with the realization that all of life is sacred and inter-connected, we will become like prophets. He said the secret of the prophets is that they know love is the foundation of life and that all things are one connection through the magnetism of love. </span><br />
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<span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-size: 13.3333px;">The story of The Mosquito and the Dove are apt metaphors for the love we can hope to have for each other. It's easiest with family. It's kind of easy with friends. It's not as easy with the birds and insects that also inhabit our spheres of influence. That is, until you have the experience of killing one. Then you'll experience their loving essence pouring out and enveloping you. At that moment you'll know at the core of your being the loving interconnected relationship we have with all things.</span></div>
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StarSoundingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14288373178246397253noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2250176656766333701.post-21412442268594892662017-03-20T06:16:00.000-07:002017-03-20T06:16:16.617-07:00Less is More<div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1490015518308_9768" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; background-color: #fff6c5; color: #403f42; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.3333px;">
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I learned the phrase, "less is more" while in art school in the 60's. It described simple and<br />
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minimalist forms of expression in art and architecture. It felt like Zen art, though no one called it that. Long after studying the artists and architects who adhered to that style the phrase stayed with me like a mantra. When reading wordy literature or wandering around the Baroque cathedrals of Europe "less is more" would float to mind as the ornate sculptures and paintings dazzled or begged the question, why so fussy? The same phrase often surfaced when I found myself in the tediousness of never-ending corporate meetings that numbed the senses.<br />
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Too much clutter in life can summon a "less is more" approach, so it was easy to assess the subtle influences in the outer world. I noticed that businesses changed their models of how they provide service to the customer. Strangely, they put the customers to work for the business, defining less is more in a whole new way. It was not done for aesthetics but clearly for profit. If<br />
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you needed gas for the car, you pumped it yourself. If you went to retail stores to buy anything you scanned, paid and bagged your own items. When that model claimed the restaurant industry I began to wonder. For the first time I thought that ordering food through an Ipad instead of through a waiter might reverse the phrase and prove that less was not really more.<br />
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All was not as it seemed for something else was changing the business model. Factories that once employed thousands were now doing the same work with dozens of robots and a couple of guys. The consumer-oriented society that had been propelling industry began to shift. Somewhere along the way, consumers realized they didn't really need or want all those things they were buying. Instead, they began to divest themselves of their big houses, and all the stuff that went into them. Aging demographics pushed people into downsized condos even as tiny houses or small mobile homes became the rage. At the same time, recycling programs were established in every state, allowing plastics, papers, and other products to be deconstructed and used for or made into something else.<br />
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The less is more phenomenon wasn't restricted to business. And yes, there are countless examples of it in digitized music, entertainment on the go, and the changes from computers to smartphones. Other systems like science, medicine and religion were affected. Quantum Physics, in a tribute to "less," stripped away everything and reduced the observed world to particles or waves. Homeopathy was another that clearly showed less is more. This alternative health practice treats diseases by rigorously diluting the medicine. In another case, pain management used to be controlled with toxic medicines. Now, the pain is mitigated with acupuncture needles, using less destructive treatment options. And finally religion lost its allure when polls showed more people identifying themselves as spiritual instead of belonging to a religion. Spirituality stripped off the pomp and rhetoric and instead focused on the essence of the teachings. It recognized the common truth in all religions that God, (or an Eternal Spirit,) was inherent in them and they abiding in IT.<br />
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It became obvious that spiritual studies were not immune to the new habits of less is more. The inner work also needed simplification and uncluttering. Daily meditations were restructured. The elaborate rituals were discarded and replaced with focused breath-work practices and simple intentions. Generic "prayers for peace" were peeled back revealing that the real prayer was for<br />
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personal peace within. Within that realization the real work had begun in earnest.<br />
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Less is more can be applied to every facet of our lives. It begs strict observation and a surgical assessment of the value of everything. <span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-size: 13.3333px;"> It refocuses us from consumers to conservers, and destroyers to caretakers. </span>It's not easy nor does it call to everyone to do. But, when everything is stripped down to its "Zen factor," only then can we develop an awareness of our excesses and experience the insights that will propel us to a new level of consciousness. That's the ultimate value in developing the less is more new habit. It's when we learn that everything we really need is already provided.</div>
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StarSoundingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14288373178246397253noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2250176656766333701.post-63624314529849931022017-02-01T09:21:00.000-08:002017-02-01T09:21:45.296-08:00Unleashing the Lioness<div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1485516776843_1838934" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; background-color: #fff6c5; color: #403f42; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.3333px;">
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<span id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1485516776843_1838941" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">Unleashing the Lioness</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: #fff6c5; color: #403f42; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 13.3333px;">In a dream on the new moon I saw her. In the blackness of the night sky, the moon suspended like a pale sliver, she ambled slowly across the heavens. The stars dimmed to make way for her immense shadow. I watched in awe as she took each deliberate step. Then she turned her golden head towards me. A moment passed between us. But in that moment, I knew she'd been awakened and her power was palpable. The Lioness had been unleashed! </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: #fff6c5; color: #403f42; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 13.3333px;">Out of the dream state I could still feel the presence of the Lioness. But what was the dream about? I began a day of research to investigate the outer interpretations of the dream symbolism. The image of the new moon holding the old moon in its arms was prophetic. The darkness upon the earth was actually illumined by a phenomenon called "Earthshine" where the earth's light is reflected back onto the dark side of the moon. The new moon was opening an energetic doorway for new ideas to emerge in consciousness. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: #fff6c5; color: #403f42; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 13.3333px;">The Numerology of the dream was also an indication of its significance. It occurred on January 23, 2017. January is a "1" month. It signifies a strong assertive leader, a pioneer. The fact that the number 1 occurred twice, in the month and the year was doubly significant. The date was a "5" number - the number associated with the Goddess through the pentagram, and relates to freedom for all people. When all the numbers are added together they equal 7 or Spiritual Wisdom. These were huge messages.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: #fff6c5; color: #403f42; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 13.3333px;">I thought about the Inauguration Meditation where we opened the door for the values of the Divine Feminine to flood the earth. Women and men spoke eloquently of unity, of wisdom, of justice, of fairness, of right action, and of hope, love, peace and laughter. The altar was set with a tall white statue of Lady Liberty holding her torch aloft, reminding us in Emma Lazarus' words, that she is </span><span style="background-color: #fff6c5; color: #403f42; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 13.3333px; font-weight: 700;"><em style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">"A mighty woman with a torch whose flame is the imprisoned lightning ... and from her beacon-hand glows world-wide welcome.</em></span><span style="background-color: #fff6c5; color: #403f42; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 13.3333px;">" </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: #fff6c5; color: #403f42; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 13.3333px;">With these symbols in mind, I needed to better understand the world of the Lioness. She is the feminine aspect of solar power. She is the mother who provides for and protects the pride. She is fierce, righteous, benevolent and courageous. She is Sekmet the great hunter goddess of Egypt whose very breath created the deserts. She is the Goddess of war and retribution, one who could ignite epidemics as well as cure them. Her myths say </span><em style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; background-color: #fff6c5; color: #403f42; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.3333px;">"she would slay the</em><br />
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<em style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; background-color: #fff6c5; color: #403f42; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.3333px;"> disagreeable men on earth.</em><span style="background-color: #fff6c5; color: #403f42; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 13.3333px;">" This was potent imagery! But it was not the whole story.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: #fff6c5; color: #403f42; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 13.3333px;">Behind every external presentation is the esoteric or inner meaning. The Lioness also had one. Stalking across the cosmos she kindled a movement of women across the globe. It began small enough then swelled to the millions in what has been called "the largest movement in history." Women emerged from their comfort zones to make themselves visible. They marched with their mothers, daughters and grand-daughters. Women in their 90's marched alongside toddlers on their father's shoulders. They came from all across the country traveling by buses, trains, planes and cars. Those who could not go to Washington, went to marches in their home-towns. Husbands joined in as one said, to "</span><em style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; background-color: #fff6c5; color: #403f42; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.3333px;">stop talking and listen to what the women had to say.</em><span style="background-color: #fff6c5; color: #403f42; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 13.3333px;">" The march was peaceful and filled with hope, calling out the same values we did locally on Inauguration night.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: #fff6c5; color: #403f42; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 13.3333px;">The Lioness unleashed a new pattern of behavior. Her power is now awakened in every woman whether they acknowledge it or not. It is a subtle power though it burns intensely when needed. The Lioness is the symbol of the Divine Feminine rising up and summoning others of like mind to right action. For when each woman rises, all women rise. When each woman lights a torch all women see and embrace the flame. Hope is ignited with Wisdom. When equality and justice is called out, all women benefit. That is the immense power of the </span><span style="background-color: #fff6c5; color: #403f42; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 13.3333px; font-weight: 700;">Unleashed Lioness</span><span style="background-color: #fff6c5; color: #403f42; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 13.3333px;"> in all of us.</span><br />
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StarSoundingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14288373178246397253noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2250176656766333701.post-49503265904783220542017-01-02T12:10:00.000-08:002017-01-02T12:10:52.952-08:00Children of Light<div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1483387555382_15049" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; background-color: #fff6c5; color: #403f42; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.3333px;">
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At an equinox ceremony many years ago I watched a little girl sitting on the edge of the stage<br />
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playing a drum bigger than her. She poured herself into the rhythms set by the adults behind her. Suddenly, everything around her dissolved. She was the only one on the stage. Transfixed in wonder I heard a voice say these words: <em style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">She is your great-great-grandmother.</em><br />
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In the years gone by I've met other children just like her. They're regular kids, but there's a serene quality about them. Most children are afraid to stand up in front of an audience of adults, but not these kids. They exude a confidence about the world. I've tried to include these children in our sacred ceremonies and events. They step up without a moment's hesitation. This is the story of two of them and how their journeys began.<br />
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<span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; color: blue;"><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">Raffaele</span></span> is a normal ten year old who plays tennis and soccer, and teases his sister. The normalcy stops there. He doesn't like video games, abhors violence and stays away from kids who swear or are disrespectful. His typical day begins with meditation at the family altar. Then he studies Latin, Greek, English Literature, Rhetoric and math. He's a gifted musician and on his way to becoming a classical Flamenco dancer. His instructors call him an angel.<br />
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<span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">Raffaele & Sister Chong</span></div>
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Raffaele was ten when he first stepped into our circle on the Winter Solstice of 2014. Though a bit shy he fearlessly told a story. He wrote his own personal prayer for peace in the world, spending hours before the ceremony to make it right. As he read it to the large audience the only sound was his clear voice against the waves and the wind. His sincerity and devotion were evident in his wishes for war and hatred to be dissolved. He truly wanted people to live in harmony with each other. From his voice, that future was possible.<br />
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Two years later Raffaele and his family moved to Spain. His mother told me he continued to be dedicated to his peace work. While in Valencia, Raffaele met <a href="http://r20.rs6.net/tn.jsp?t=nm8fukyab.0.0.zpiriacab.0&id=preview&r=3&p=http%3A%2F%2Fplumvillage.org%2Fabout%2Fsister-chan-khong%2F" rel="nofollow" shape="rect" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; background: transparent; color: blue; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px;" target="_blank">Sister Chan Khong</a>, the first disciple of Thich Nhat Hanh and currently in charge of the Plum Village community. Raffael asked her how he could live his life for peace. Realizing the influence this young boy would have on the world, she told him, <em style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-size: 10pt;">"Raffaele, call upon the Buddha. Disassociate with anger. Go back to your in-breath and on the out-breath be calm. The bucket of water that is your mind was agitated. Now it will be calm."</em><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-size: 10pt;"> Then she named him "</span><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-size: 10pt; font-weight: 700;">The Master of Peace</span><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-size: 10pt;">." </span></div>
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The second boy's name is <span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; color: blue;"><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">Lincol</span></span><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; color: blue;"><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">n</span></span>. At age 7 he too is not a normal kid in the usual sense. He is already a healer of some worth. When his mother learned techniques in Sound Toning and Healing, Lincoln wanted to be taught. Every day, he practiced toning with his mom, wearing her prayer shawl and sitting at her altar. He was a natural.<br />
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Most kids ask their parents for toys. Not Lincoln. He was given $20 to spend at a festival the family attended. The money was for rides, candy, or whatever he wanted to buy. Lincoln asked his mom to return to the Crystal Booth where he'd seen a bamboo wand with amber and quartz.<br />
He held it in awe, tracing the chakras. The owner of the booth remarked how "unique" this young boy was. But there was a problem. The wand was $45. Promising his father he'd forgo any treats for a month, he got the wand. He placed it on the altar where he uses it daily.<br />
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When Lincoln learned that two dogs belonging to friends were desperately ill he wanted to make them well. One of the dogs was not expected to live out the night. Using the Sound Healing techniques he was taught, Lincoln began to systematically tone for each of the dogs, using the wand over their imaginary bodies. Over the course of several weeks, both dogs fully recovered and are back to their old lives. The vet of the dog who was not expected to live calls her "the miracle dog."<br />
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These are but two stories of the <span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; color: blue;"><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">Children of Light</span></span>. Today, I can still see the image of the little girl and easily hear the message on that equinox full moon. She was a drummer in the vanguard of The Children of Light. These children are everywhere. They are beyond special. They've chosen wise parents who encourage them by including them in spiritual ceremonies. These children to whom we've had the privilege of teaching spiritual practices will take humanity forward in consciousness. They are the ones we summoned in our prayers so very long ago. They are indeed the light-bearers for the future generations coming to earth. When we return to earth, we'll remember. For they were our great-great-grandmothers and grandfathers.</div>
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<span id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1483387555382_15092" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"> <em id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1483387555382_15098" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"> Jo Mooy - January 2017 </em></span></div>
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StarSoundingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14288373178246397253noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2250176656766333701.post-5568243643327345312017-01-02T12:08:00.003-08:002017-01-02T12:12:08.220-08:00Esoteric Heart of the Year<div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1483387555382_12562" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; background-color: #fff6c5; color: #403f42; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.3333px;">
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<span id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1483387555382_12563" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">The Esoteric Heart of the Year</span></div>
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The Winter Solstice! Christmas! New Years! The Epiphany! They're all well known holidays. But few know the mysteries that surround the twelve days between the Winter Solstice, (or December 25th) and January 6th. Esoteric teachings say this period of time is significant. It's known as the "spiritual heart" of the year or the time when the Sun is reborn bringing its light to<br />
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the world. And the twelve days are ruled by the twelve signs of the Zodiac.<br />
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Before Christianity arrived, ancient cultures celebrated the New Year on the Winter Solstice, the darkest and longest night of the year. On that morning people gathered to watch the sun rise and light the long chambers of their places of worship. That gathering was a festival to call back the sun, knowing it was the giver of harvest and without it, life would cease. In 5,000 BC Persian historical records describe the gatherings. Tribal fires burned all night, feasts were laid out, and prayers offered for the sun to be reborn. Its return symbolized the victory of light over darkness and is still celebrated today.<br />
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But what about the "twelve holy days" mentioned in the ancient texts? Some calendars were unable to account for twelve days every year, so they left them unmarked. The twelve days coinciding with their ancient "New Year" were set aside as days out of time, and therefore must be sacred and holy. The Magi, astrologists, and shamans knew the sun was at its lowest point relative to the earth. For three days it appeared to "stand still" increasing the effect of darkness. They watched, waited and measured, realizing the sun didn't begin to move until the morning of the fourth day. Day by day, unobserved by the populace, the few minutes of additional sunlight<br />
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were recorded. Not until the 12th day did the people begin to notice the change. By January 6th the ordinary person could detect there was more light in the sky. On that day, light had truly overcome darkness, the growing season could begin, there would be a harvest and so they celebrated it as the Festival of Light or the Epiphany<br />
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There's an esoteric practice associated with the 12 Days which can be a period of reflection or purification. But it requires a commitment to its purpose. It begins after the "Stand-Still period" of the Winter Solstice. So, starting either on Christmas Eve or on Christmas morning, light a candle. Ask this question: "<em style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">What does this day (first, second, third, day etc) have to teach me to further my soul's purpose? I await this guidance through dreams, insights or messengers during the day.</em>" Because this is a journey of 12 days, engage it in any way you wish - by journaling, meditation, prayer, or walks in nature and be aware of where messages may be sent.<br />
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Observe and be mindful throughout the day, then journal each evening. Each day represents the<br />
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12 months of the calendar year and 12 astrological signs. For example, Day 1 is January named for the God Janus, master of beginnings and endings. Reflect on Janus or new beginnings or endings. Or consider the astrological sign Capricorn's self-discipline and responsibility.<br />
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When I did this practice in December 2015, I had a dream the first night about "reconstruction." In it I was told I had the tools, skills and talent to make or remake anything. Later in the day, while discarding some old flowers in a vase and changing out towels, I made a connection with the dream. The insight was, discard the old and replace with new. Insights, dreams or messages continued every day of this practice.<br />
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Done with intent and dedication, this is a deep practice to take you from the longest night to the festival of lights. The symbols received and the interpretations that come day by day are remarkable. Especially when you go back and look at them a year later. Some messages predicted an outcome. Some offered insightful guidance on a specific issue. All the messages, whether dreams, insights, even a phone call, or something read on the internet, related to the day and month. It is a worthwhile endeavor in your spiritual life. If you put your personal heart into the<span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;"> Esoteric Heart of the Year</span> these twelve days will serve as a brilliant guide for the upcoming year.<span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-size: 10pt;"> </span></div>
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StarSoundingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14288373178246397253noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2250176656766333701.post-82314846848449840322016-11-17T11:47:00.000-08:002016-11-17T11:47:40.089-08:00Sarah, Susan & Alice<div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1479400211431_94251" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; background-color: #fff6c5; color: #403f42; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.3333px;">
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<span id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1479400211431_94254" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">Sarah, Susan & Alice</span><br />
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No, you can't go to school! It's not a place for girls. I'm sorry, your husband is the only one who can own that property. Yes, Mr. Smith makes more money than you because he has a family to provide for. You don't. Lady, if you want that credit card you'll need your husband's signature. Don't worry your pretty head about politics, I'll take care of it. You can't be a manager, you're a woman! The military is for men only. Women have lived with statements like these for centuries.<br />
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Then there was a revolution in the 1700's that created a nation. But along the way, the founders forgot about women. Volumes have been written about the new nation. It's essential truth was "<em id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1479400211431_94260" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">all men are created equal and endowed by their creator with certain unalienable rights</em>." It went on that, "<em id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1479400211431_94261" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">to secure these rights, Governments are instituted by men who get their powers from those governed.</em>" What did that really mean? Only men were created equal? If men were the Government did their powers only come from other men? Did freedom and liberty and justice for all apply only to them? My questions weren't so unusual. Others long before me had asked them.<span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;"> Especially Sarah, Susan and Alice!</span><br />
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In South Carolina, <span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">Sarah Grimke</span> and her sister <span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">Angelina</span>(1792-1879) were the first American female advocates for abolition and women's rights. Sarah's father, Chief Judge of the Supreme Court, refused to send her to law school deeming it only fit for his son Tom. Nonetheless she studied every book in her father's library excelling in the law. Judge Grimke, later said she would have been the greatest lawyer in South Carolina if she were not a woman. In violation of that law, Sarah taught her personal slave to read. And later freed her. Then the sisters went on another improper activity for women - a national speaking tour against slavery and for the rights of women. Angelina wrote "<em style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">Women were not created for the possession of men. But rather as unique, intelligent, capable creatures deserving equal regard, rights and responsibilities with men.</em>" It was inflammatory and incited riots. (Read their remarkable story in Sue Monk Kidd's book, The Invention of Wings.)<br />
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<span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">Susan B. Anthony</span> (1820-1906) is the most famous reformer of the suffragette movement in America. She too was an abolitionist but later was more focused on women's rights. As headmistress of a female academy she was enraged to learn she was paid much less than a male headmaster. It caused her to ease into the role of voting rights for women, saying "I didn't want to vote but I did want equal pay for equal work." That changed when she met the women of Senaca Falls who were lobbying for a woman's right to vote. For over fifty years she and her closest collaborator, Elizabeth Cady Stanton, worked tirelessly. They marched, petitioned congress and endured public humiliations. She and many of her friends were imprisoned in horrible conditions for illegally voting in an election. Not until August, 1920 did women get the right to vote in the 19th amendment to the US Constitution. It changed things.<br />
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Then there was Alice. No, not Roosevelt. This was <span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">Alice Paul</span> from Mt. Laurel NJ. She was the architect, activist, strategist and leader of the campaign for the 19th Amendment. She dedicated her life to securing a woman's right to vote. She mobilized women as "Silent Sentinels" to stand outside the White House during WWI incurring the wrath of angry mobs and the disdain of the President. They were imprisoned in filthy rat-infested cells. They were beaten<br />
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and left out in the cold with no coats. They went on hunger strikes and were force fed. Government officials removed Alice to a sanitarium in hopes she'd be declared insane. The doctor said no she wasn't. When the press found out about their treatment the public responded in favor of the women. It went to Congress with the deciding vote in the hands of a 24 year old from Tennessee who intended to vote "no." Until his mother sent him a telegram saying "support the women." Ninety-seven years later, a statue honoring his mother and the Tennessee Suffragettes was just installed in Nashville's Centennial Park.<br />
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Thank you <span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">Sarah, Susan and Alice</span>. You were vilified and humiliated. You were imprisoned and tortured. You were spat upon and urinated on. You were chained and beaten. Yet you persevered and endured. You struggled for hundreds of years, finally getting women the right to vote. In November, at Thanksgiving, in an election year where the first woman in history is running for office, we thank you for your valiant courage in the face of unimaginable discrimination and horror. Because of you we can vote without facing those horrors. Thank you <span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">Sarah, Susan and Alice!</span></div>
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StarSoundingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14288373178246397253noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2250176656766333701.post-34167633439190470912016-10-02T08:40:00.000-07:002016-10-02T08:40:38.565-07:00THE CALLING<div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1474973224406_1865575" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; background-color: #fff6c5; color: #403f42; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.3333px;">
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She was a Rosicrucian and my first spiritual mentor. Her name was Gloria. She introduced<br />
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me to meditation, numerology, color and frequency, psychic experiences, rituals and sacred ceremonies. She taught me the importance of remembering and interpreting dreams and how to consciously walk shamanic pathways into alternate realities. And she guided me well in the early days of my spiritual journey.<br />
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I remember many of her pronouncements regarding the direction my life would take. She'd lean back in her chair, her eyes would glaze, her voice deepened with a husky edge, and she'd tell me what she saw. Gloria said I would never be rich, but would always be comfortable. She said my job would take me far and support me well. She predicted three extraordinary experiences that would propel me into alternate-realities. One of those experiences where I consciously observed myself entering an immense fluid energy field while driving my car is as vivid today as when it occurred in the 1970's.<br />
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However, the most compelling prediction she made and one that stuck in my mind was the major directional change my life would take when I entered my 60's. She saw me teaching the spiritual path to others accompanied by an "equally dedicated spiritual partner." At the time of the prediction I felt she'd made her first mistake. I had no "dedicated spiritual partner" in my life,<br />
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and I couldn't conceive of a scenario where I'd be teaching others about the spiritual path, being new to it myself. What I failed to realize was that <span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">"The Calling"</span> to do just that had been planted in my being long before she told me when it would flower.<br />
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What I've come to know is that <span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">The Calling</span> is a journey of spiritual awakening that can come like a bolt out of the heavens or it creeps into your consciousness like a feather falling softly from a pillow. It can arrive at any time in your life as it did when I met Gloria. When you become conscious of it, you know on a deep inner level that your life is going to change in dramatic ways. It's a subtle spiritual force that permeates your being and all you can do is respond to its direction. It influences the books you read, the music you listen to, the TV you watch, and the places you visit. It causes you to seek out teachers who can identify and explain it in ways that soothe your spirit.<br />
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It's not an easy path to follow. It doesn't have to, but many times it shatters your old life patterns, leaving it in tatters. Because you're changing, old friends and even family members will often fall away from your sphere of contacts. They tell you they don't know who you are, or worse, they don't like the person you've become. When you try to explain your new interests or behavior, they want no part of it. Or you. It can be a painful and lonely time. Yet you persevere.<br />
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<img border="0" height="132" hspace="0" src="https://i248.photobucket.com/albums/gg168/jostarsoundings/MISC%202%20-%206-11/Spiritual%20Teacher_zpssm8droj4.jpg" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; border: 0px;" vspace="0" width="200" /></div>
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That's when you realize that the "new you" no longer has the same interests that were prevalent in your old life. Everything about you has changed and you want to follow that singular path though you have no idea where it will lead. It's then that the spiritual teacher becomes your best guide. And if the teacher is good, they will direct you to your own inner guide.<br />
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Gloria's prediction of "teaching the spiritual path in your sixties" has happened. You said that the material we teach at the women's meditations or retreats had a profound effect on your lives. You said, the practices and exercises caused seismic changes to happen. While old relationships came unglued new ones emerged and ignited. These changes are <span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">The Calling</span>sounding from the depths of your being. When you hear it then cross that threshold, only you can pick up the light offered and carry it on. You will do this with a lightness in your heart, and a smile on your face. The awakening of spiritual knowing is the soul's essential quest in living a human incarnation. What a symphony it creates!</div>
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<span id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1474973224406_1865624" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-size: 10pt;"><span id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1474973224406_1865623" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;"> Jo Mooy - October 2016 </span></span></div>
StarSoundingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14288373178246397253noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2250176656766333701.post-65044149304602787122016-09-01T08:55:00.000-07:002016-09-01T08:55:45.769-07:00The Mermaid Altar at the Wall<div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1472732881332_47222" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; background-color: #fff6c5; color: #403f42; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.3333px;">
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<span id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1472732881332_47284" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">The Mermaid Altar at The Wall</span></div>
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The Wall juts out into the Gulf at the north end of the beach. It's the end point of a mile or more<br />
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<tr id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1472732881332_47210" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"><td align="center" class="yiv5140384734SpacerImageContainer yiv5140384734mobile-hidden" colspan="1" height="1" rowspan="1" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; border-spacing: 2px; color: #403f42; line-height: 1px; min-height: 1px; padding-left: 5px;" valign="top" width="5"><img border="0" class="yiv5140384734SpacerImage" height="1" hspace="0" src="https://imgssl.constantcontact.com/letters/images/sys/S.gif" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; border: 0px;" vspace="0" width="5" /></td><td class="yiv5140384734 yiv5140384734imgCaptionImg" colspan="1" id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1472732881332_47209" rowspan="1" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; border-spacing: 2px; color: #403f42; padding-right: 5px; padding-top: 5px;" width="100%"><div align="center" id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1472732881332_47283" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">
<img border="0" height="123" hspace="0" id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1472732881332_47282" src="https://i248.photobucket.com/albums/gg168/jostarsoundings/LIDO%20BEACH/The%20Wall%201206150831d%20Large_zpsogiqoeav.jpg" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; border: 0px;" vspace="0" width="220" /></div>
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<tr id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1472732881332_47281" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"><td align="center" class="yiv5140384734SpacerImageContainer yiv5140384734mobile-hidden" colspan="1" height="1" rowspan="1" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; border-spacing: 2px; color: #403f42; line-height: 1px; min-height: 1px; padding-left: 5px;" valign="top" width="5"><img border="0" class="yiv5140384734SpacerImage" height="1" hspace="0" src="https://imgssl.constantcontact.com/letters/images/sys/S.gif" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; border: 0px;" vspace="0" width="5" /></td><td class="yiv5140384734imgCaptionText" colspan="1" id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1472732881332_47280" rowspan="1" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; border-spacing: 2px; color: #403f42; font-size: 9pt; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-right: 5px;"><div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1472732881332_47279" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">
<span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">The Wall</span></div>
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beach walk. There's no way around it other than to swim at high tide, or wade through the criss-crossing currents at low tide. It's six feet high and about two feet thick. It's a concrete bulkhead to hold the tides back from swallowing the expensive home that sits hidden on the ridge away from the water. It's also a barrier to the beach walkers who might infringe on the property rights of the owners.<br />
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The Wall is plain. The concrete is dun-colored. It's been there for many years with nothing to distinguish it other than two sets of large black stenciled <span id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1472732881332_47318" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">"Private Property No Trespassing</span>" letters prominent on the beach side. But no matter the intentions of the owners, time has taken its measure. With the rising of the sea level, the higher tides have brought in sand raising the beach and reducing the height of the wall to just under five feet.<br />
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Reducing it from six feet made it more approachable to the walkers who considered The Wall, the end of their beach walk before they had to turn around and walk back. But one day something happened. The walkers began to see The Wall, not as an obstacle to overcome, but<br />
<table align="right" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="yiv5140384734imgCaptionTable yiv5140384734OneColumnMobile" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; margin: 0px 0px 0px 5px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; width: 200px; word-break: break-word;"><tbody style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; width: 215px;">
<tr style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"><td align="center" class="yiv5140384734SpacerImageContainer yiv5140384734mobile-hidden" colspan="1" height="1" rowspan="1" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; border-spacing: 2px; color: #403f42; line-height: 1px; min-height: 1px; padding-left: 5px;" valign="top" width="5"><img border="0" class="yiv5140384734SpacerImage" height="1" hspace="0" src="https://imgssl.constantcontact.com/letters/images/sys/S.gif" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; border: 0px;" vspace="0" width="5" /></td><td class="yiv5140384734 yiv5140384734imgCaptionImg" colspan="1" rowspan="1" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; border-spacing: 2px; color: #403f42; padding-right: 5px; padding-top: 5px;" width="100%"><div align="center" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">
<img border="0" height="150" hspace="0" src="https://i248.photobucket.com/albums/gg168/jostarsoundings/LIDO%20BEACH/Blue%20Mermaid%20P1010300%20Large_zpsml86wa6z.jpg" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; border: 0px;" vspace="0" width="200" /></div>
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<tr style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"><td align="center" class="yiv5140384734SpacerImageContainer yiv5140384734mobile-hidden" colspan="1" height="1" rowspan="1" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; border-spacing: 2px; color: #403f42; line-height: 1px; min-height: 1px; padding-left: 5px;" valign="top" width="5"><img border="0" class="yiv5140384734SpacerImage" height="1" hspace="0" src="https://imgssl.constantcontact.com/letters/images/sys/S.gif" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; border: 0px;" vspace="0" width="5" /></td><td class="yiv5140384734imgCaptionText" colspan="1" rowspan="1" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; border-spacing: 2px; color: #403f42; font-size: 9pt; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-right: 5px;"><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">The Blue Mermaid</span></td></tr>
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one to embrace. The changes started spontaneously. Now that the top was reachable, one or two walkers brought a shell, (or several) leaving them on the top of the wall. Other walkers, seeing the shells, began to add their own.<br />
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Then the biggest change came. No one knew who did it, or when it was done, but one day an artist decided to paint The Wall. She began by painting two wild-hair mermaids. The blue one with big eyes waved to the walkers. The lime green one was positioned swimming towards the sea. The mermaids were accompanied by eight blue fish swimming in different directions. A thin green palm tree, and a couple of pink jelly fish floating off behind the swimming mermaid completed the mural.<br />
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As soon as The Mermaids arrived the intention of The Wall as a barrier dissolved. While the Mermaids didn't obscure the "<span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">Private Property No Trespassing</span>" signs, their appearance made it less in your face. The Mermaids were whimsical and invited interaction with the walkers. Soon the walkers responded in kind and The Wall became known as The Mermaid Altar. Beautiful shell offerings were left on top of the wall. Then came the symbols, reflecting the different religions, Hinduism, Judaism, Christianity and Buddhism, of the walkers. It was not unusual to see the OM symbol made out of seaweed on top of the wall next to a shell shaped peace<br />
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<img border="0" height="123" hspace="0" src="https://i248.photobucket.com/albums/gg168/jostarsoundings/LIDO%20BEACH/Woman%20joins%20us%201206150825c%20Small_zpsqz6eprsk.jpg" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; border: 0px;" vspace="0" width="220" /></div>
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<tr style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"><td align="center" class="yiv5140384734SpacerImageContainer yiv5140384734mobile-hidden" colspan="1" height="1" rowspan="1" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; border-spacing: 2px; color: #403f42; line-height: 1px; min-height: 1px; padding-left: 5px;" valign="top" width="5"><img border="0" class="yiv5140384734SpacerImage" height="1" hspace="0" src="https://imgssl.constantcontact.com/letters/images/sys/S.gif" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; border: 0px;" vspace="0" width="5" /></td><td class="yiv5140384734imgCaptionText" colspan="1" rowspan="1" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; border-spacing: 2px; color: #403f42; font-size: 9pt; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-right: 5px;"><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">Sunday Morning Offering</span></td></tr>
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symbol, or a Christian cross made out of sea beans.<br />
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Many religions have houses of worship where the faithful can go on a Sunday morning. The original teachers of those religions taught about the majesty of nature and suggested there was much to learn about life by being in nature. The beach calls to many and in this area, it can be its own place of worship. That's evidenced by the many walkers who head out early on a Sunday morning to commune with nature. They walk north on the beach towards The Wall. They stop en-route, picking up shells, or beach-glass that will become an offering at The Mermaid Altar. When they reach The Wall, they place the offering on top. Sometimes they stop, bow their heads, and offer a prayer. Occasionally they bring a child, telling them about the altar and lifting the child to place a shell on the top.<br />
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It's suggested when given a lemon, make lemonade. So it was, when an owner put up a wall hoping to detract others from their expensive beach property. The beach walkers and the artist took that lemon and made lemonade! The <span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">"Private Property - No Trespassing"</span> concrete bulkhead was transformed with a lovely mural. It's now a destination for Sunday morning walkers that they call <span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">The Wall or The Mermaid Altar!</span></div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1472732881332_47334" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; background-color: #fff6c5; color: #403f42; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.3333px;">
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<span id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1472732881332_47341" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"> <em id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1472732881332_47339" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"> Jo Mooy - September 2016 </em></span></div>
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StarSoundingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14288373178246397253noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2250176656766333701.post-75555304328775686412016-08-02T08:48:00.000-07:002016-08-02T08:48:15.027-07:00HEAT!<div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1470152675389_7042" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; background-color: #fff6c5; color: #403f42; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.3333px;">
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<span id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1470152675389_7043" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">Heat!</span></div>
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<span id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1470152675389_7030" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">Heat! It conjures up images of fire, rising temperatures, passion, even a movie. But it's much<table align="right" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="yiv5716635779imgCaptionTable yiv5716635779OneColumnMobile" id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1470152675389_7029" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; margin: 0px 0px 0px 5px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; width: 180px; word-break: break-word;"><tbody id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1470152675389_7028" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; width: 195px;">
<tr id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1470152675389_7027" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"><td align="center" class="yiv5716635779SpacerImageContainer yiv5716635779mobile-hidden" colspan="1" height="1" id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1470152675389_7040" rowspan="1" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; border-spacing: 2px; color: #403f42; line-height: 1px; min-height: 1px; padding-left: 5px;" valign="top" width="5"><img border="0" class="yiv5716635779SpacerImage" height="1" hspace="0" src="https://imgssl.constantcontact.com/letters/images/sys/S.gif" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; border: 0px;" vspace="0" width="5" /></td><td class="yiv5716635779 yiv5716635779imgCaptionImg" colspan="1" id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1470152675389_7026" rowspan="1" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; border-spacing: 2px; color: #403f42; padding-right: 5px; padding-top: 5px;" width="100%"><div align="center" id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1470152675389_7025" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">
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<tr style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"><td align="center" class="yiv5716635779SpacerImageContainer yiv5716635779mobile-hidden" colspan="1" height="1" rowspan="1" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; border-spacing: 2px; color: #403f42; line-height: 1px; min-height: 1px; padding-left: 5px;" valign="top" width="5"><img border="0" class="yiv5716635779SpacerImage" height="1" hspace="0" src="https://imgssl.constantcontact.com/letters/images/sys/S.gif" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; border: 0px;" vspace="0" width="5" /></td><td class="yiv5716635779imgCaptionText" colspan="1" rowspan="1" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; border-spacing: 2px; color: #403f42; font-size: 9pt; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-right: 5px;"><div style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">
<span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">Solar Eruptions</span></div>
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more influential in our lives and is something we often take for granted. Earth is in the "sweet spot" in its distance from the inferno of the sun. Without the sun's heat, the temperatures on earth would reach hundreds of degrees below zero and pretty soon life on earth would end. And should the sun itself vanish, the gravity that held things together would instead allow all comets, asteroids and planets to fly off into space or each other.</span></div>
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<span id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1470152675389_7050" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">While science defines heat as "the energy stored inside something" (like the core of the earth) temperature is a measurement of how hot or cold something is. Heat travels and moves around and through objects. Things that are hot cool down (</span><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">like </span><span id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1470152675389_7052" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">a cup of coffee) and things that are cold get warmer (</span><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">like </span><span id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1470152675389_7053" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">a cup of ice-cream.) Then there's weather which is an atmospheric condition defined as temperatures of hot or cold, and atmospheres that are sunny or rainy. Weather is driven by </span><span id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1470152675389_7054" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">air pressure, temperatures interacting with moisture, and the sun's angle relative to the axis of the earth.</span></div>
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<span id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1470152675389_7056" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">That's heat in a nutshell. But why is it so important? Because weather shapes the earth. And</span><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">also </span><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">because weather, </span><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">with</span><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"> its temperature extremes </span><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">of hot and cold, </span><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">has </span><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">an extraordinary impact on human health and well-being. </span><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">In the northern hemisphere </span><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">August is </span><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">a month<table align="right" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="yiv5716635779imgCaptionTable yiv5716635779OneColumnMobile" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; margin: 0px 0px 0px 5px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; width: 162px; word-break: break-word;"><tbody style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; width: 177px;">
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<span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">Frying egg on sidewalk</span></div>
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</span><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">synonymous with heat. The temperature is so </span><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">hot w</span><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">ildfires abound and often s</span><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">idewalks buckle in the heat. Some daring souls have fried eggs on their car bumpers during the month. August is also the "high season" for catastrophic hurricanes. Hurricane Katrina caused one million people to leave the Gulf Coast and move to other parts of the country, becoming the largest diaspora in the history of the United States.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">The heat of August, </span><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">coupled with high humidity, </span><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">also contributes to exploding </span><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">tempers </span><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">and</span><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"> emotional outbursts. Like the weather, pressures in humans builds up. P</span><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">olice reports show </span><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">violent crimes soar</span><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"> in the hot months </span><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">but</span><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"> less so in the cold months.</span><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">Archaeologists and psychologists say there's a link between the environment and human behavior. Evidence exists that extreme weather caused crop failures that led to unrest, uprising and the downfall of civilizations from Babylon to the Mayan Cultures to the dynasties of China.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">But consider this. Research scientists at UCLA Berkeley have been seeking a "grand unified theory of the environment and human behavior" that crosses location and time with the only constant being us. The research concludes that <em style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">a degree of fluctuation from average temperatures or rainfall results in a predictable change in human conflict.</span></em> They said this conflict is played out on NY subways, as well as influencing the regional and national levels. When heat is added it escalates. For instance when policemen were placed in a "heated simulator room" they were more likely to fire their guns when assaulted. The environment</span><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">appears to be affecting how small scale conflicts can escalate into larger ones.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">Searing passions</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">You're probably wondering what this has to do with you personally. Sufi mystic Pir Vilayat suggests one should always "<em style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">look for that which transpires </em></span><em style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"><b style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">behind</b></em><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"><em style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"> that which appears</em>" to get a better understanding of events. What if there's a correlation not just with the weather affecting humans but rather with humans affecting the weather? I don't mean humans causing climate change, </span><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">though that's an aspect of it</span><span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">. Rather, what if the emotional state of humans is the actual cause of the weather we experience? What if the angry and fearful behavior of humans creates the volcanic disturbances in the weather?</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">We're living in a violent period of earth history. Civil discourse and respect for one another has taken a back seat. It's evident in how we treat each other, the litter we leave on beaches and parks, and the value we place on the self and personal gain. If an argument in a heated moment can poison the atmosphere between friends so powerfully that it's felt when others come into contact with them, then it seems logical that contaminated atmosphere will also radiate out as<table align="right" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="yiv5716635779imgCaptionTable yiv5716635779OneColumnMobile" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; margin: 0px 0px 0px 5px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; width: 230px; word-break: break-word;"><tbody style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; width: 245px;">
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<tr style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"><td align="center" class="yiv5716635779SpacerImageContainer yiv5716635779mobile-hidden" colspan="1" height="1" rowspan="1" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; border-spacing: 2px; color: #403f42; line-height: 1px; min-height: 1px; padding-left: 5px;" valign="top" width="5"><img border="0" class="yiv5716635779SpacerImage" height="1" hspace="0" src="https://imgssl.constantcontact.com/letters/images/sys/S.gif" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; border: 0px;" vspace="0" width="5" /></td><td class="yiv5716635779imgCaptionText" colspan="1" rowspan="1" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; border-spacing: 2px; color: #403f42; font-size: 9pt; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-right: 5px;"><div style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">
<span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">Us and the weather</span></div>
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part of the weather? Enough heated arguments (wars, election campaigns) will create disastrous storms because our personal "atmosphere" is affected and so too is the overall global weather atmosphere.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">When Pir Vilayat said "<em style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">look for that which transpires behind that which appears</em>" that phrase becomes a directive for each of us to carefully observe our actions and make a determination on how we're influencing others. We are not alone in this! We are inter-connected as one being. What happens to one of us happens to the whole. That includes our affect on the environment and weather.</span></div>
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<span id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1470152675389_7083" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"> <em id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1470152675389_7081" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"> Jo Mooy - August 2016 </em></span></div>
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StarSoundingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14288373178246397253noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2250176656766333701.post-43741209698021177022016-07-06T11:33:00.000-07:002016-07-06T11:33:17.132-07:00Ten Years Shredded<div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1467299789622_678949" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; background-color: #fff6c5; color: #403f42; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.3333px;">
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<span id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1467299789622_678951" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">Ten Years Shredded</span><br />
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"<span id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1467299789622_678935" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"><em id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1467299789622_678946" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">How long do I have to keep these tax records?</em>" I asked my tax guy. "<em style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">Three years but ideally</em><table align="right" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="yiv1897967428OneColumnMobile" id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1467299789622_678934" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; margin: 0px 0px 0px 5px; padding: 0px; width: 220px; word-break: break-word;"><tbody id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1467299789622_678933" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; width: 235px;">
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<em style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">seven.</em>" he replied. I dug deep into a five-drawer file cabinet, and found tax returns going back ten years beyond the ideal seven. So, I made a cup of tea, plugged in the shredder, and sat on my office floor with a pile of folders intending to make short work of shredding ten years of my life. But I learned there's a huge chasm between intention and execution.</span></div>
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<span id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1467299789622_678959" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">The project was not what I expected it to be. As each folder was opened and the contents spilled out, my business and personal life from decades ago captured my attention. Taxes paid to the different cities and states I'd lived in brought up memories of not of what I had to pay (outrageous) but of the relationships and long-term friendships forged in each place. I recalled my first boss Tom who taught me an adage that I used throughout my career. Tom said "<em style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">Twenty percent of the people do eighty percent of the work so feed the eagles and starve the turkeys.</em>" I wondered about him and those long gone friends. Where were they today? Did they remember me as I now remembered them?</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">The contents also spoke to both sad and happy life events. A lawyer's letter notified me of an investment that passed to my sisters and me upon the death of our mother. It was a loving reminder of her and how many years she'd been gone. Savings bonds receipts, purchased for each grandson when he was born, required an accounting with the IRS. I remembered leaving<table align="right" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="yiv1897967428OneColumnMobile" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; margin: 0px 0px 0px 5px; padding: 0px; width: 220px; word-break: break-word;"><tbody style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; width: 235px;">
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an important executive meeting when the phone call came in that the first one was born, and my hair-raising drive from Connecticut to New Jersey to see grandson Deegan.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">Charitable donations were made in honor of events that touched the world. There was one to the NYC Firemen's Fund after 9/11 which brought up long ago memories of a day engraved in the hearts of all - especially New Yorkers. Three file folders later there was a different donation to the efforts in Indonesia after the 2004 tsunami killed 230,000 people and devastated that region.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">It took several hours to go through all the files. As I did my old life came into focus and was remembered well. I recognized it as a life well lived, filled with joys and professional rewards. W-2s showed a career with many promotions and much promise; while expense accounts recalled travel all over the country and to foreign ports. As I thumbed through the receipts I smiled remembering the events, banquets, guests and friends made along the way.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">Recalling the memories I realized it was a life I had to leave behind in order to live the life I really wanted to live. It was impossible to do the work that consumes me today while continuing to live the old life in the Corporate world. Rewarding as it was, I had to leave it behind in order to pursue that which has since become a life purpose.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">When a life purpose emerges you realize it's not a hobby you're pursuing but a powerful and meaningful path. It's a path that family or friends might not understand and they might actively try to thwart it. I experienced that for several years before making the final break. When it occurred the dominant feeling that overpowered all the others was "Freedom." I had the freedom to pursue that which brought me overwhelming happiness and purpose.</span></div>
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<span id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1467299789622_678965" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">Those folders were a reminder that the path to meaningful happiness can take a 90 degree turn at any moment. It comes unbidden but is merciless in its demands for notice! If one is strong enough to do it, willing to ignore well-meaning guidance from family and friends, and courageous in resolve, the rewards to pursuing a new path are remarkable. Shredding tax documents reminded me of the strength and courage it took to close the door on the old life and open the door to something new.</span></div>
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<span id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1467299789622_678962" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">All the skills learned in the old corporate life enhance the new one. I teethed on computers, perfected presentations, developed marketing plans and writing proposals - all still in use today. That life was ideal for the time I was in it. It afforded me happiness, and a good living to raise a family. As Ten Years were Shredded it reminded me there were no regrets. My past life brought me brilliantly to this new one here! At the end of the shredding I realized happiness is wherever one is planted.</span></div>
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StarSoundingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14288373178246397253noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2250176656766333701.post-11823170263840663322016-06-27T05:11:00.003-07:002016-06-27T05:11:47.171-07:00THE BLUE RAY<div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1467029256251_6909" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; background-color: #fff6c5; color: #403f42; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.3333px;">
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<span id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1467029256251_6910" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-weight: 700;">The Blue Ray</span></div>
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I first learned about the Medicine Buddha when a Buddhist friend from California did a prayer meditation for my mother who was very ill. She said the Medicine Buddha is an enlightened<br />
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being known as the healer of physical and mental illness. He is depicted seated, wearing the three robes of a Buddhist monk, holding a blue-colored jar of medicine nectar in his left hand with the right hand resting on his right knee. He holds the stem of the Myrobalan plant which is considered an exceptional universal healing plant. A lapis lazuli blue aura surrounds him.<br />
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In the years that followed, my knowledge of the Medicine Buddha remained subtle and uninformed. But apparently that prayer she invoked for my mother was destined to sow seeds that would begin to emerge a few years later when my brother-in-law went to Nepal and brought me a beautiful Life of Buddha Thangka. It had all the aspects of Buddha, including the Medicine Buddha, painted on it. Soon after the painting was hung over our altar the Medicine Buddha began to make its presence known.<br />
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One morning in meditation two figures appeared on either side of the Medicine Buddha. The one on the left identified herself as the Bodhisattva Chandra, Goddess of the Moon. The one on the right identified herself as the Bodhisattva Surya, Goddess of the Sun. Both of them appeared in a sea of blue color. In the scene were shades of the most extraordinary clear blues with streams and pure rays of blue everywhere. I wrote down the meditation with plans to share it with our local women's circle, which I did in 2014.<br />
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Fast forward two years later. The local Buddhist Center invited the community to a Medicine Buddha Empowerment. An empowerment is like an initiation. It's a ceremonial ritual handed down in an unbroken lineage for thousands of years. It consists of prayers, blessings, a guided meditation, and an initiation into practices associated with a specific aspect of the Buddha.<br />
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Walking into the center my eyes fixed on a poster of the Medicine Buddha. Normally the Medicine Buddha, portrayed in blue, sits serenely alone. But this one was different. What caught my attention were the two deities on either side of the Buddha - the Goddess of the Moon and the Goddess of the Sun. I recalled the meditation from several years earlier as the bell rang for the ceremony.<br />
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An empowerment is a very singular and purposeful experience. No two are alike. After a series of teachings and chants the meditation guiding the empowerment began. In the stillness, the visuals that were called in took over my being. I became immersed inside a Blue Ray of light. Blue filled every cell in my body. I had no consciousness of anything but The Blue Ray. I felt blue, saw blue, and experienced blue. There was a notable collapsing of the physical entity into this absorption by The Blue Ray. It was like experiencing blocks slowly falling away until nothing but a Blue Ray remained. In that state, I was submerged into a vast healing space that was timelessly held by the being known as the Medicine Buddha. I had become the Blue Ray.<br />
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Since the empowerment the effects of the Blue Ray continue. When needed for healing, it's<br />
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summoned as though it never left. A cold, accompanied by 2 weeks of coughing, caused the muscles around my ribs to become painfully inflamed so I decided to visit my local physician. On a scale of 1-10, the pain was a 10. Before going to the doctor I summoned the Medicine Buddha in meditation. An hour after meditation I went to the doctor. When asked the level of pain, I said a 6. The doctor prescribed muscle relaxants and an anti-inflammatory medication. By the time I got home the pain was a 2. I filled NO prescriptions. Over the course of 6 hours, a severe pain in the ribs that had been with me for two weeks, disappeared completely in the Blue Ray of healing.<br />
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Lama Tashi Namgyal said, "<em id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1467029256251_6945" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">If one meditates on the Medicine Buddha, one will eventually attain enlightenment, but in the meantime one will experience an increase in healing powers both for oneself and others and a decrease in physical and mental illness and suffering.</em>" That is the force of the Medicine Buddha and the power of The Blue Ray!</div>
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StarSoundingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14288373178246397253noreply@blogger.com0