LOVING TREATMENT MEDITATION, by Louise Hay

(From her book, “Heal Your Body – the Mental Causes for Physical Illness & the Metaphysical Way to Overcome Them”)

Deep at the center of my being there is an infinite well of love.  I now allow this love to flow to the surface.  It fills my heart, my body, my mind, my consciousness, my very being, and radiates out from me in all directions and returns to me multiplied.  The more love I use and give, the more I have to give; the supply is endless.   The use of love makes me feel good.  It is an expression of my joy.  I love myself, therefore, I provide a comfortable home for myself, one that fills all my needs and pleasure to be in.  I fill the rooms with the vibration of love so that all who enter, myself included, will feel this love and be nourished by it. 

I love myself, therefore, I work at a job that I truly enjoy doing, one that uses my creative talents and abilities, working with and for people whom I love and who love me, and earning a good income.  I love myself; therefore, I behave and think in a loving way to all people, for I know that which I give out returns to me multiplied.  I only attract loving people in my world, for they are a mirror of what I am.  I love myself, therefore, I forgive and totally release the past and all past experiences, and I am free.  I love myself; therefore, I live totally in the now, experiencing each moment as good, and knowing that my future is bright, joyous, and secure.  I am a beloved child of the universe, and the universe lovingly takes care of me now and forever more.

And so it is.

A KISS FROM A THOUSAND ANCESTORS, short story by Kim Schulz

A KISS FROM A THOUSAND ANCESTORS, short story by Kim Schulz

My Friend Swope

            Cathie (also known as Swope) was the kind of person who would give you the shirt off her back.  Literally.  One time we were drinking and cruising the country roads in Marion County, Ohio when I suddenly had to puke.  Cathie pulled over and actually gave me the shirt on her back to wipe my mouth on.   You know you have found a friend for life when someone gives you the shirt off their back. 

We use to do karaoke before there was karaoke.  The living room was our stage, when we weren’t singing to the steering wheel or a beer bottle. 

Oh, the stories I could tell.

One time Cathie put a Mexican Chicken Dish (full of cheddar cheese) down my garbage disposal and plugged it up good.  We had to go to the basement and snake the clog out; the pipe was above our heads and it was getting late in the night.  We must have been at it for two hours, when Swope decides to have a try at it.

Laugh out loud, Cathie got the clog loose and it all sprayed directly into her mouth.  It was so funny it blew all the tension away.  Even Cathie had to laugh.

More importantly, Cathie was there when I came out of the closet.  If you have never had to do that, then you most likely don’t understand how hard it can be.   Swope stepped up like a big sister, and she had been my best friend at times. 

When we were children she lived down the street from me.  Her dad and my mom worked together and even dated at one time.  Nothing serious though (unfortunately).  Still, we were sisters by heart.  Apparently, nothing could change that.

The last time I spoke to Cathie was when I went up North for my brother’s funeral.  I called, and even stopped by her house, with the hope that she might go to David’s funeral with me.  David and Cathie both lived with me at one time and were well acquainted with each other.  Cathie finally returned my call and said she wasn’t feeling well and didn’t want me to catch her crud, so I didn’t see her.  That was three weeks ago.

         My friend took her own life.  I do not know why.  I might not ever know.  All I know is the here and now, and at this moment I celebrate my friend’s life.  Cathie Swope brought smiles to my face and taught me that no matter what I choose to do in life, I will always be loved.  Only love can teach love, and it is the greatest gift of all.  Thank you Cathie Swope.

Cathie Swope & Julie Dawson

Pensacola Beach, FL

My Brother's Funeral

           Funerals are normally sad occasions, but as with everything else in life, there is a good side too. 

            Recently my brother, David, passed away.  By man’s law, David would have been considered my half brother.  David had other siblings as well; 2 brothers and 2 sisters (not including my brother and sister, who had met David, but never developed a relationship with him).  The younger of David’s siblings I had met, but I was not aquatinted with the older two.

            When I heard of my brother’s passing I found myself looking forward to the funeral; I wanted to meet his family so bad and be with the people he loved.    They were stories I had heard about, like the guy who David looked up to as a father, because his dad (my dad) wasn’t present in David’s life, and the sister who lived on an island in Florida; not to mention the older brother who was a steady anchor in David’s life.  I knew their names and I had seen their faces in photos, but I had never sat with them or spoke to them.

            On the day of David’s funeral the forecast called for rain.  As I left the house that day my mom forced an umbrella in my hand despite my declaration of a dry occasion.  And what a beautiful day it turned out to be.  The ride between Marion, Ohio and Bucyrus was so awesome!  There were flowering peas of golden yellow stretching across the fields, with low lying white fluffy clouds hovering above like a blanket of comfort.  The corn looked like it could touch the sky and the first day of fall was present in its leaves.  There were browns, shaded greens and yellows as the fields flew by.  Such a lovely ride as puppy dog faces formed in the sky.

            Then came that awkward moment when you arrive at a funeral and you realize you only really know two faces out of all the people who are there.  But it didn’t take long to find comfort in each other’s presence. We weren’t strangers for long.  And later in the day, when it came time for family pic’s, they invited me in the mix.  My brother’s funeral was everything I hoped it would be - a celebration of everlasting love. That is my brother’s legacy.   

In Memory of

David Joseph Plumley

July 19, 1974 - September 18, 2019

"Live On"

Forgiveness

               Often times when we speak of forgiveness our minds drift to those who have done us unrepeatable harm.  But to forgive is not only for those who have caused us the most wrong.  Forgiveness should also be practiced when it comes to the small things as well.  

            Yesterday a man intentionally pulled out in front of my path on the roadway.  To add further insult, the man who pulled out in front of me was in the passing lane and moving slower than the vehicles in the right lane.  I was angry.

            I pulled into the right lane to pass him.  As I did I noticed that his truck belonged to the city and had a vehicle registration number that I made my wife record as we passed.  “I’m going to call the city on him first thing Monday morning and report his ass!” I said. 

            The next morning I noticed the small piece of paper with the trucks I.D. sitting upon the kitchen table.  I found myself questioning the process of making a complaint.  “Do I really want to take the time to call the city and file a complaint?”

            “Yes, someone needs to teach that man a lesson!  Maybe next time he’ll think twice before he pulls out in front of traffic like that again.”

            But it’s the morning; a new day, and I begin everyday in prayer.  It’s that twenty minute meditation where I rediscover the art of forgiveness.

 

            Forgiveness is a release of resentment.  No matter how great or little the resentment, it still corrupts the spirit and that will eventually lead to physical ailments. 

 

            It’s not a question of right or wrong, it is only what it is.  “Oh, a man pulled out in front of me, and I slowed down.”  End of story.  Only when I allow my ego to become involved does anger become a part of the narrative.  Ego is choice; therefore I chose anger.  

            I don’t want to be anger.  I want to be love, so I choose again, and this time I choose to forgive.  That little piece of paper that was sitting on the kitchen table can be found in the trash can now.

For The Love of Water

            I love the water.  I don’t know of anyone or any other creature on this earth that does not love the water.  My cat has even jumped into my swimming pool before, so don’t give me any lip.  I love the water so much, that my love brought me here to Pensacola, Florida.

            I never imagined living along the Red Neck Rivera would provide such an education as I have obtained in the past seventeen years, but it has been a magical journey indeed.  

            In 2010, the Deepwater Horizon blew up and splashed my white crystal beach with black oil and tar.  I became so depressed and angry.  It still brings tears to my eyes when I think back upon that moment in time.

            But I was blessed beyond imagination, for I had met this lady who was so wise that she had the face of an eagle.  She shared with me the writings of Masaru Emoto, who basically proved that water has memory.   It just hasn’t found a human vase to hold it yet. 

            Different parts of the human body hold more water than other parts, but essentially the human body is roughly 90% water.  What Emoto’s experiments showed was that when good words such as love, forgiveness, and peace were introduced to the water, it would crystallize into these lovely clear shapes.  But when negative words such as hate, anger and even the name Hitler were introduced, the water became cloudy and distorted when it crystallized.  And if water in a container was affected in such a manner, imagine the cause and effect on a human being.

            And this ladies and gentlemen is how I learned to save my world.  In this photo you will see a container of water; they are the same; same container, same water.  On the left is, unfortunately, the water I collected on Good Friday; it doesn’t look well at all.  The surf was really kicking that day.  The picture on the right is what it looks like three months later, after I shook it up in an attempt to duplicate the water as the day I found it.   Except, I have been meditating and praying over the water for the past three months.  Notice the difference?

                      

           I can see quite a difference in the two photos.  And I didn’t spend any great amount of time on it.  I usually focus on the water for a minute after my morning prayers (for three months in this instance).   I taped positive words to the jar, as if the water is reading them.  Then I dress her up with some amethyst beads and a really pretty shell I came across on the west coast, and even a feather I found on the beach the day I collected the water.  And the day I return the water to the Gulf of Mexico, I will meditate upon it again.  I was taught to return the water on a full moon, which is usually when I collect my water as well.  The idea is that the water spreads the love you have given it.

            Just like people.  You can spread love (Jesus Seeds) or spread your anger (Demon Seeds).  But whichever you choose to sow your garden with know that that will be your return.   I spread the love to the Gulf of Mexico on that angry Good Friday when I collected the water I have today.

            I even go as far now as to speak to the water when I’m in the shower.  I greet it every morning with love.  It’s so easy to feel good when the water hits your body, yes?  I feel its healing impact my body as soon as it I step into it.  The water will take the stiffness right out of my shoulders and neck.  So I always thank the water before I step out.  I give it kisses and say, “Spread the love my friend.” 

            But really, I believe water is God.  And in that instance you could say we have really fucked God up bad.   Still, when you begin speaking to the water on the daily, you begin to notice just how special that morning shower is.  It’s like standing naked before the Creator every morning and allowing his/her light to shine down upon you!  It truly lifts the spirit.

When Jesus turned water into wine, he was glorifying God.   Glory to be to Water!

 

Video of the Water I was just telling you about