Skip to content

Hello world!

January 13, 2011

Welcome to WordPress.com. This is your first post. Edit or delete it and start blogging!

just some chat

October 23, 2010
 
 
 

looks like I missed out on somebody; hope all are having a warm sweet evening as we are leaning into Autumn…my favorite time of the year when the winds blow through with the first "norther" from the North, the sounds of rustling falling leaves caught your senses on an untended channel. Being in the band, I’d usually be out on the football field practicing several times a week at night and after the sweat of a hot summery day, that cool north wind felt just invigorating! LIFE is just remarkable for being LIFE.
It does seem to me that as I grow older (and living in a state that doesn’t experience seasonaL changes), a kind of twilight zone falls down about all things, a calming of the busy summer combining with new classes and challenges. Why we miss out on the events of living the good, simple life then (well, to be honest with ourselves those teenage years could be so depressing) can bring me to tears until I understand that’s just the way it is. Best to start where you are now and create a reality that is yours and yours to fashion as you will, and not until everyone else agrees that it is ok that you do that. Personally I think being "different", not ‘thinking’ like everyone else because we want so much to fit in – is infinitely better. Thus do we come to know who we are, what serves us best, helps us fulffill our unique quest. We’re just here for such a short time, that by the time we realize that this scenery is all props, the characters in our lives seem to dominate our every resonate. When we do (IF we do) see (as Thoreau put it: he wanted to go to the woods and live life while he could and not wait until he was leaving breath behind, and find that he had not lived LIFE at all) Of course their life spans were not what ours are today; and the dizzy thing about that is, how much more value are we creating for ourselves, showing by example how happiness radiates from within and not found on some great, far-away vacation fling (not that there’s anything wrong with wanting to see the world – I’ve always wanted to) — But to believe that you had to go somewhere else in order to experience the Inner Contentment that day by day, illudes us, leaves us ripe for rot, in a world all about getting not.
 
 
ANN~

Maintaining Connection with Our Inner Self

September 28, 2010
 
 

To "maintain contact, or regain that contact with our  inner self" is a mighty and imperiled

resolve.

  LIFE is ever "at us" with multi-mischievous rants until we think what is the use to constantly remain vigilant at the core of our interior spaces; yet how can we not?  I, too, am uplifted by those whose achievements transcend earthly stores, and even that now has become  all chore.  It is the damned and the victorious, the vile and glorious, the ever pulsating ‘Jack in the Box’ when we’d just as soon hide.  We perpetuate our prison/or Shangri-La, with such lame excuses as we have bought off our time on earth thus far. When we lay aside  the confusion of our divide, we do find at last, we have come once more to where we left off…our past.

Relentless devastation lies in the public view and about that I’m not sure we can always know what to do; or who to listen to. The temptation to render less than due promptly allows our envy to peek through; and like a brush fire whose flames have become by sight a rolling smoke in a darker night, we are the frightened argument, defending why we can’t just BE.   Where or what then is our Destiny?

 

~rumors~

 

 

To "maintain contact, or regain that contact with ~ruour  inner self" is a mighty and imperiled

resolve.  LIFE is ever "at us" with multi-mischievous rants until we think what is the use to constantly remain vigilant at the core of our interior spaces; yet how can we not?  I, too, am uplifted by those whose achievements transcend earthly stores, and even that now has become  all chore.  It is the damned and the victorious, the vile and glorious, the ever pulsating ‘Jack in the Box’ when we’d just as soon hide.  We perpetuate our prison/or Shangri-La, with such lame excuses as we have bought off our time on earth thus far. When we lay aside  the confusion of our divide, we do find at last, we have come once more to the beginning shore that set our footsteps on the doorway of our past.  Relentless devastation lies in the public view and about that I’m not sure we can always know what to do; or who to listen to. The temptation to render less than due promptly allows our envy to peek through; and like a brush fire whose flames have become by sight a rolling smoke in a darker night, we are the frightened argument, defending why we can’t just BE.   Where then is our Destiny?

To "maintain contact, or regain that contact with our  inner self" is a mighty and imperiled

resolve.  LIFE is ever "at us" with multi-mischievous rants until we think what is the use to constantly remain vigilant at the core of our interior spaces; yet how can we not?  I, too, am uplifted by those whose achievements transcend earthly stores, and even that now has become  all chore.  It is the damned and the victorious, the vile and glorious, the ever pulsating ‘Jack in the Box’ when we’d just as soon hide.  We perpetuate our prison/or Shangri-La, with such lame excuses as we have bought off our time on earth thus far. When we lay aside  the confusion of our divide, we do find at last, we have come once more to the beginning shore that set our footsteps on the doorway of our past.  Relentless devastation lies in the public view and about that I’m not sure we can always know what to do; or who to listen to. The temptation to render less than due promptly allows our envy to peek through; and like a brush fire whose flames have become by sight a rolling smoke in a darker night, we are the frightened argument, defending why we can’t just BE.   Where then is our Destiny?

To "maintain contact, or regain that contact with our  inner self" is a mighty and imperiled

resolve.  LIFE is ever "at us" with multi-mischievous rants until we think what is the use to constantly remain vigilant at the core of our interior spaces; yet how can we not?  I, too, am uplifted by those whose achievements transcend earthly stores, and even that now has become  all chore.  It is the damned and the victorious, the vile and glorious, the ever pulsating ‘Jack in the Box’ when we’d just as soon hide.  We perpetuate our prison/or Shangri-La, with such lame excuses as we have bought off our time on earth thus far. When we lay aside  the confusion of our divide, we do find at last, we have come once more to the beginning shore that set our footsteps on the doorway of our past.  Relentless devastation lies in the public view and about that I’m not sure we can always know what to do; or who to listen to. The temptation to render less than due promptly allows our envy to peek through; and like a brush fire whose flames have become by sight a rolling smoke in a darker night, we are the frightened argument, defending why we can’t just BE.   Where then is our Destiny?

To "maintain contact, or regain that contact with our  inner self" is a mighty and imperiled

resolve.  LIFE is ever "at us" with multi-mischievous rants until we think what is the use to constantly remain vigilant at the core of our interior spaces; yet how can we not?  I, too, am uplifted by those whose achievements transcend earthly stores, and even that now has become  all chore.  It is the damned and the victorious, the vile and glorious, the ever pulsating ‘Jack in the Box’ when we’d just as soon hide.  We perpetuate our prison/or Shangri-La, with such lame excuses as we have bought off our time on earth thus far. When we lay aside  the confusion of our divide, we do find at last, we have come once more to the beginning shore that set our footsteps on the doorway of our past.  Relentless devastation lies in the public view and about that I’m not sure we can always know what to do; or who to listen to. The temptation to render less than due promptly allows our envy to peek through; and like a brush fire whose flames have become by sight a rolling smoke in a darker night, we are the frightened argument, defending why we can’t just BE.   Where then is our Destiny?

 
 

To "maintain contact, or regain that contact with our  inner self" is a mighty and imperiled

resolve.  LIFE is ever "at us" with multi-mischievous rants until we think what is the use to constantly remain vigilant at the core of our interior spaces; yet how can we not?  I, too, am uplifted by those whose achievements transcend earthly stores, and even that now has become  all chore.  It is the damned and the victorious, the vile and glorious, the ever pulsating ‘Jack in the Box’ when we’d just as soon hide.  We perpetuate our prison/or Shangri-La, with such lame excuses as we have bought off our time on earth thus far. When we lay aside  the confusion of our divide, we do find at last, we have come once more to the beginning shore that set our footsteps on the doorway of our past.  Relentless devastation lies in the public view and about that I’m not sure we can always know what to do; or who to listen to. The temptation to render less than due promptly allows our envy to peek through; and like a brush fire whose flames have become by sight a rolling smoke in a darker night, we are the frightened argument, defending why we can’t just BE.   Where then is our Destiny?

To "maintain contact, or regain that contact with our  inner self" is a mighty and imperiled

resolve.  LIFE is ever "at us" with multi-mischievous rants until we think what is the use to constantly remain vigilant at the core of our interior spaces; yet how can we not?  I, too, am uplifted by those whose achievements transcend earthly stores, and even that now has become  all chore.  It is the damned and the victorious, the vile and glorious, the ever pulsating ‘Jack in the Box’ when we’d just as soon hide.  We perpetuate our prison/or Shangri-La, with such lame excuses as we have bought off our time on earth thus far. When we lay aside  the confusion of our divide, we do find at last, we have come once more to the beginning shore that set our footsteps on the doorway of our past.  Relentless devastation lies in the public view and about that I’m not sure we can always know what to do; or who to listen to. The temptation to render less than due promptly allows our envy to peek through; and like a brush fire whose flames have become by sight a rolling smoke in a darker night, we are the frightened argument, defending why we can’t just BE.   Where then is our Destiny?

To "maintain contact, or regain that contact with our  inner self" is a mighty and imperiled

resolve.  LIFE is ever "at us" with multi-mischievous rants until we think what is the use to constantly remain vigilant at the core of our interior spaces; yet how can we not?  I, too, am uplifted by those whose achievements transcend earthly stores, and even that now has become  all chore.  It is the damned and the victorious, the vile and glorious, the ever pulsating ‘Jack in the Box’ when we’d just as soon hide.  We perpetuate our prison/or Shangri-La, with such lame excuses as we have bought off our time on earth thus far. When we lay aside  the confusion of our divide, we do find at last, we have come once more to the beginning shore that set our footsteps on the doorway of our past.  Relentless devastation lies in the public view and about that I’m not sure we can always know what to do; or who to listen to. The temptation to render less than due promptly allows our envy to peek through; and like a brush fire whose flames have become by sight a rolling smoke in a darker night, we are the frightened argument, defending why we can’t just BE.   Where then is our Destiny?

To "maintain contact, or regain that contact with our  inner self" is a mighty and imperiled

resolve.  LIFE is ever "at us" with multi-mischievous rants until we think what is the use to constantly remain vigilant at the core of our interior spaces; yet how can we not?  I, too, am uplifted by those whose achievements transcend earthly stores, and even that now has become  all chore.  It is the damned and the victorious, the vile and glorious, the ever pulsating ‘Jack in the Box’ when we’d just as soon hide.  We perpetuate our prison/or Shangri-La, with such lame excuses as we have bought off our time on earth thus far. When we lay aside  the confusion of our divide, we do find at last, we have come once more to the beginning shore that set our footsteps on the doorway of our past.  Relentless devastation lies in the public view and about that I’m not sure we can always know what to do; or who to listen to. The temptation to render less than due promptly allows our envy to peek through; and like a brush fire whose flames have become by sight a rolling smoke in a darker night, we are the frightened argument, defending why we can’t just BE.   Where then is our Destiny?

To "maintain contact, or regain that contact with our  inner self" is a mighty and imperiled

resolve.  LIFE is ever "at us" with multi-mischievous rants until we think what is the use to constantly remain vigilant at the core of our interior spaces; yet how can we not?  I, too, am uplifted by those whose achievements transcend earthly stores, and even that now has become  all chore.  It is the damned and the victorious, the vile and glorious, the ever pulsating ‘Jack in the Box’ when we’d just as soon hide.  We perpetuate our prison/or Shangri-La, with such lame excuses as we have bought off our time on earth thus far. When we lay aside  the confusion of our divide, we do find at last, we have come once more to the beginning shore that set our footsteps on the doorway of our past.  Relentless devastation lies in the public view and about that I’m not sure we can always know what to do; or who to listen to. The temptation to render less than due promptly allows our envy to peek through; and like a brush fire whose flames have become by sight a rolling smoke in a darker night, we are the frightened argument, defending why we can’t just BE.   Where then is our Destiny?

more thoughts on letting go our own bondage

September 5, 2010

 

 

 

"For something in you dies when you bear the unbearable.   And it is only i n that dark night of the soul that you are prepared to see God

and to love as God loves.  But your hearts, if you can keep them open to God, will find their own intuitive way."

 

                                                                                                                                                               WHO DIES by Stephen Levine

 

 

 

 

missed…

September 5, 2010

 

Towards the ending of any Journey, Vacation Tour, I think that my mind begins to sift through the baggage I’ve added while on the  trip to far flung destinations as well what I missed while so close — yet mindful of unerring time barricades — yet felt I had not the time nor energy left to go to every site I had at first envisioned.   Oh yes, you know what I mean.  My life has been one with little room for slipping into slim excursions or additional canals, leading to what I will always wonder about.

To this end of inventory taking, I find that I am less embattled about what was missed.  I had so much that I find scant linkage to complain about.

When I see ITALY on the Travel channel, I do feel a slight squeemish squeeze.   Of course, AFRICA will lead the hoped for destination, for reasons all my own.   As for ITALY, there seems to be some mystique of home calling there.    We cannot explain our personal sought itineries – and thankfully, have no need to.   This EARTH  holds realms of wonders known and unknown and the adventurer in me longs to set foot on these soils, these ports of call.  Indeed if I had been handed sacksfull of money I would have been there.  (and good, strong, fit health that would allow me to climb mountains, swim beautiful lakes, dance the nights away to divine melodies; and, a whole host of other encounters in the ARTS  and the scopes of those disciplines I wanted to study.  All culminating in the devotion to Humanitarian endeavors.   And being the romantic I am, I would have wished a lifelong companion whose steady, incisive wisdom and common interests bestowed a complementary and fulfilling lifestyle for us both.

Yet, that was not my WAY.  I no longer chew over reguritated unlived hoped fors.  I have come to live more and more in the NOW moment — it is only in retrospect that I was allowed to see how much living I’ve missed…missed knowing my sons at some age or other, reveling in humor, cringing in sorrow at their growing, wailing walls.   It is just   LIFE   calling; and you miss it all if you are not present — not only in physical presence, but moreover, alive in the moment, capable of responding and thus the hope that I could have made their way a bit less alarming.   I seem to be in a land of living wherein I am all "feeling".   Now as I find this roller  coaster racing around corners, certain to take flight at the next turn, great sobs break through to all I never knew through my experience of them.

Then come GRAND-CHILDREN and with them comes the possibility of living in their moments of wide-eyed  WOWS!    There comes my deepest joys and most lovingly connected delights.   Sometimes, one must just be more patient — even though you’ve declared you’ve been patient enough!    Indeed these last few years have been like living "on borrowed  time."     Every stage of growth, wherein I could be a part, I’ve taken that gift and like a kite, lift off the plodding methods of earth bound mortals.  T ransiting journeys too far today, will  not be an anchor to leaden and deaden your WAY, tomorrow…and tomorrow…and tomorrow.

Just now, those tomorrows are TODAY.  Assess your Self and gather your Joys while you are still in wonder.   The memories we make continue to feed our periods of disconnection and we are warmed to Life by the subtlies that too often go unrecognized  or  just missed.  So what, you say?   It is in such diversely meted out provisional trials that we are continuing to continually learn — about our Selves, our role in humanity’s prilgrimmage through a History rife with such obvious barbaric notions that would see millions of us rounded up and packed like sardines (so tightly as to make months-plus sea voyages beyond comprehension in today’s currency of Beliefs), or others cramped in spaces while their chambers of death were still in the final stages of completion, to the success of gas injected shower heads rained down Death upon them, their crying children and elderly alike).   We must KNOW such did happen so that we may go forward with the brand of such heinous actions ever burned into our minds; and, with a fervor that it never may happen again.

Life is wrought with all manner of disease, distress and duality;  yet we are bearers of such crimes against other human beings and promise to our Selves and others (whom we will never meet) that we cherish the trust of Life, the living of it, knowing where and when to let go the broken shards and hop on a wagon filled with the music  of Hope, the Spirit of Illumination, the certainity of our commitment  and  unfailing LOVE to all who seek it.

 

-rumorsofme-

 

 

 

 

 

 

freedom

July 31, 2010
 
 
 
 
"Freedom is the ability to have or not to have what you want without it closing your heart."
 
The truth will present itself to the heart that is prepared for any possibility.
 
When Life was full there was no history.
 
                                                                          Stephen Levine, "WHO DIES?"
 
 
                    Are we just making this up as we go?   The Mind is relentless in its NEED TO KNOW.   And not all can be known – even unto the end. 
                   When we fall into ourselves like a black hole they say exists in deep Space.   Torn and weary, our heart restricts with the impunity of
                   what is right, as we have so judged.  Who is to judge for our SELF?   Are we just simply shining up our prison bars for fear of being set
                   free (God invoked Divinity)?   How can we know another when we cannot know our SELF?   Imagined Fear is even more confusion as it
                   carries what IS , with the reflection of our worsening tensions, ill prepared for the fray.  To let loose my Heart’s crying way, I cater
                   to the uncertainties of the day.  What price is there to pay?   For such is carpeted with land mines all along this lingering delay.  I 
                   cannot let such prized vineyards pass when I thirst for the respite lying there.  Who is to say?  Who or What can make it okay?   
 
                   ~rumorsofme~
      
 

emptiness

May 18, 2010

 

 

 

Wherever there is emptiness, some thing will come to fill it.  Therefore be diligently aware the vacant wanderings of your mind, the complaints of your hollow heart, for it is through such passages that we all become more of who and what we are, our awareness spirals up and out, the Interiors of our Ego are swept free of deteriorting hubris; and, we realize the consequences of our seemingly singular unrelated deeds upon this imperiled, beautiful world…this blessed Earth.

 

~rumorsofme~

 

 

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.