Wednesday, June 27, 2012


iWith no word of good-bye, you chose to die, my friend.  We shared simple joys of living, often without many words.  For you, having Parkinson's felt more like a curse to endure than a disease to somehow befriend, and be open to healing modalities outside Western medicine.  We rarely spoke of it, but as you felt your mind slippage away, your body so often in pain, and mounting frustration as you became more disconnected from your strengths, it must have been disheartening, leaving your home, being with strangers where you needed to adjust to the schedules of a new place.  I weep now, realizing I had no idea you had internally decided life was too much.  So we never said good-bye, even on the phone.

  I want you to know you were a real gentleman, always kind, grateful to have my company for plays, walks in a park, shared meals.  I shall not forget you, and hope you afre now at peace in a way that was not possible when so many shoulds, so many regrets from your past madae it hard for you to live with present realities.  I am grateful we had some fun together.  My life, too, is challenging every day, and I am sad for us, and glad to still be a part of this marvelous journey we call life, with all its joys, sorrows, and in-between  time

Friday, June 1, 2012

In the Early Morning of the New Dawn

In the early morning of the new Dawn, I hear you gentle voice, Ancient Mother
Calling us to come home, honor you in whatever ways we are called to do.
   For some it means walking the land, gathering strength, courage, tenacity to endure and embrace the changes to come.
   For some it means creating gardens that give joy to our vision, our tummies, our sense of working in harmony with you, our dear Mother.
   For some it means traveling far from our comfort zones, offering our services in other lands that need our helping hands and hearts at this time.
   For some it means climbing to the mountain and the hilltops, to have a clearer perspective on the direction we are to go, granting us courage for the journey.
   For some it means taking more time to tune into the stillness, letting go the busyness and the mind-chatter that detracts us from our deeper yearnings.
     You speak to us in the wind, the soaring eagles, the busy ants, the ocean waves, the old forests quietly holding hillsides in tact, protecting our watersheds.
You speak to us through voices and photos on the Internet that touch our souls, encouraging us to reach out to one another in love, not in fear.
      You speak to us in prayer, in song, in dance, in storms, earthquakes, eclipses, and tsunamis, reminding us to listen to your pain, listen to your need for us to protect, preserve, and honor you however, whenever we can.  May we have the good sense to listen, Ancient Mother before it is too late.  You have blessed us to be alive at this time when the Earth is changing.  May our lives help make this planet sustainable by our collective and individual choices.  Ho. Ho. Blessings!