tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26602220461882019292024-03-13T05:18:27.651-07:00 JoyZAChoiceMeanderings of a Blossoming BeingJoyZAChoicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03720848507861075166noreply@blogger.comBlogger620125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660222046188201929.post-65018275074980869072019-04-26T11:03:00.002-07:002023-02-08T08:16:23.902-08:00Six Years With An Angel<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It was six years ago today that Sophie and I met. It had been four days since Bruzer's passing and I was a complete mess. I couldn't stop sobbing. I couldn't eat or sleep or think. A "mess" is a vast understatement. But then, on the morning of the 26th of April, I got up and decided that I would <i>not </i>torture myself a moment longer. After a bit of research (Humane Society) I took off for the coast.<br />
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The moment I saw her I thought, "Ohhhhh! I hope she picks <i>me</i>!" Because in my heart I KNOW that it is they who choose us. NOT the other way around. She was in her very large kennel with her "roommate" and a woman who was sitting on the floor giving them cookies. I didn't think I stood a chance. When given the choice between a cookie and a stranger, what would YOU choose?<br />
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I watched for a few minutes, just taking it all in. The woman finally saw me standing there and asked would I like to meet one of them. I told her yes I would but after they got their treats. She said that they'd had enough; then she said "which pup would you like to meet?"<br />
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I pointed to Sophie (who, by the way, had been named "Silver Lining". What the hell??? What kind of name is THAT for a Dog?!). She put Sophie on a leash and walked her out of the kennel, gave me a handful of treats and handed her over. We then walked to an enclosure that had artificial turf and a bench on either end. She told me to spend as much time as I liked and when I'd made up my mind, to walk her into the lobby.<br />
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Being the smart puppy she is, she'd seen me put those little treats in my pocket and knew they were for her. She didn't make one bit of fuss as we walked into the enclosure. I sat down on one of the benches and asked her to "SIT". She looked at me with a blank stare, wagging her tail, waiting for a treat. I had to giggle. Cutest face EVER!<br />
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I spent about half an hour with her and then asked if she wanted to come home with me. By that time all the cookies were gone and still she followed me from one end to the other. I asked again. She wagged her tail and walked to the gate. I had my answer.<br />
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It's about an hour's drive from that shelter to our home. She rode the whole way with one paw on my leg. I was laughing and crying simultaneously. Mostly because I just KNEW that my Bruzer had a hand in the whole affair. Also because I could feel my heart healing as we drove.<br />
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From the moment she walked through the door, she was home. I knew it. She knew it. And I like to think Bruzer knew it too. She did not erase the pain of losing him, she merely made it more bearable for me. Hers was a sketchy past. Someone had found her living on the streets of El Centro, pregnant and filthy and starving. How she ended up on the coast is a mystery. One thing is certain: she was on her way to ME.<br />
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There isn't a day that passes that I don't thank her for coming to live with me. Each morning I sing her a song that says so. And she wags her tail and gives me kisses and I know she's grateful too.<br />
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Living with an Angel is about as good as it gets.<br />
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Sophie chose Joy.<br />
Me too. </div>
JoyZAChoicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03720848507861075166noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660222046188201929.post-52537291423846528522019-04-25T14:58:00.001-07:002019-04-25T14:58:07.099-07:00Pavo Art<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
This is Il Paveno (The Peacock).<br />
<span id="goog_1413664544"></span><span id="goog_1413664545"></span><br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eKD4mdC4fdo/XMInRLZznrI/AAAAAAAAEBQ/a4WbEs9o1B8FIiuw0zCAhmD_PFupNYKLgCLcBGAs/s1600/pavo%2B4.25.19.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1399" data-original-width="1278" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eKD4mdC4fdo/XMInRLZznrI/AAAAAAAAEBQ/a4WbEs9o1B8FIiuw0zCAhmD_PFupNYKLgCLcBGAs/s400/pavo%2B4.25.19.jpg" width="365" /></a></div>
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Pavo graces us with his magnificent presence here on our Path. He enjoys lounging right outside my back door, near to the house for extra attention. He gets it any time he wants.<br />
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He loves to come to our door and open up that spectacular plumage and do this little twirly dance. He does it so I'll go out there and just BE with him. He is quite the entertainer.<br />
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{I tried to load one of those videos....to no avail. Still got some learnin' to do!}<br />
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His gifts are plentiful. Each year, at the end of mating season, he drops all those gorgeous feathers for me (and others) to find strewn all 'round the property. It usually happens near Summer's end. For me, it's like Christmas in August. I never tire of finding them. I still clap my hands and do my Happy Dance.<br />
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And thank him profusely.<br />
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You could say that I'm his biggest fan.<br />
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In addition to his beauty, he also serves as Protector to me and Sophie. He sleeps on our roof and will scream bloody murder should he hear something that's "not right". Each evening, before I turn in, I walk outside to wish him Good Night and thank him for his service.<br />
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Every single night.<br />
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For the past seven years.<br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZTFsj6jnRAk/XMIoQ7OMj0I/AAAAAAAAEBk/OZIg4xhzogcIYgFyqPuPmlb_fA08IrIRQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_3190.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZTFsj6jnRAk/XMIoQ7OMj0I/AAAAAAAAEBk/OZIg4xhzogcIYgFyqPuPmlb_fA08IrIRQCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_3190.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Yes. I'm serious.<br />
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Peacocks are as noisy as they are beautiful. But ONLY during mating season. For about six months, the racket is loud enough to be heard from miles away. NOT exaggerating here. I'm sure it's so that all the Peahens can hear him. Alas, none has come to answer his calls. Poor guy. As for me...well, I love the "noise". Even at three in the morning. It wakes me up...and then the giggles ensue. It just tickles me.<br />
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What can I say? I AM his biggest fan.<br />
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Along with the beauty and the noise, Peacocks can also be quite messy. If you walk 'round here barefoot you're bound to wind up with Peacock Poop on yer feet. Sophie LOVES to roll in it. NOT something that amuses me. It stinks (and so does she) to the high heavens; if she comes in with it on her she is IMMEDIATELY dragged to the sink where she is rinsed off in cold water. It's my passive/aggressive way of scolding her. She is well aware that I hate it when she does it, but she does it anyway.<br />
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Stubborn little Scamp!<br />
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And then there's the Peacock Pee. It shows up as white blotches on the pavers or the deck. It's not as stinky as the Poop, but messy all the same. You can see the mess it makes on the roof tiles (in the photo above). And when it cakes up enough, it falls off the roof onto the deck where Sophie will snatch it up like some yummy little Peacock Pee Snack. Disgusting! I usually take a broom to the deck to thwart her snacking but sometimes she's too quick for me.<br />
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Anywayzzzz...<br />
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Yesterday afternoon, on a mission to clean up some of the mess, I opened the front door to find this:<br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7bWYWAXPiw0/XMIQWroiLqI/AAAAAAAAEA8/lnX-sE60dZUVs17f6-5RzEvYHMR835TrwCLcBGAs/s1600/pavo%2Bart%2B1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7bWYWAXPiw0/XMIQWroiLqI/AAAAAAAAEA8/lnX-sE60dZUVs17f6-5RzEvYHMR835TrwCLcBGAs/s400/pavo%2Bart%2B1.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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(don't confuse the dark shade spots with the white pee splotches)</div>
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I stood there for a moment, staring at it and wondering why it bugs me so much. I mean...it's NOT Poop. It doesn't stink. So what if it's a big splotch on the brick?</div>
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And then it hit me.</div>
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PEACOCK ART!!! </div>
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He's a <i>Master</i> of all things beautiful, isn't he? Why shouldn't his droppings be artful too?</div>
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I grabbed my box of sidewalk chalk and went to work. I giggled my ass off the whole time. I kept thinking about how there are SOOOOO many people who pay ridiculous amounts of money for "art" that I see as <i>NOT </i>art. I marvel at what some folks see. I wonder why they spend their money on "art" that often looks like a two-year-old made it. It's such a mystery to me. I thought all these things as I played with the shapes of his droppings. And then...I stepped back to look at his "work".</div>
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If there's anything to be had here it is that even Peacock Pee can turn into JOY. </div>
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Because...</div>
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it's ALWAYS a CHOICE.</div>
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JoyZAChoicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03720848507861075166noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660222046188201929.post-73537382018384210672019-03-28T12:10:00.000-07:002019-03-28T12:10:37.481-07:00...this, too, shall pass<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Hello My People ~<br />
<br />
Today seems a good day to speak a bit about <i><b>endurance</b></i>.<br />
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By definition, the word "endurance" means:<br />
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1. <i>The fact or power of enduring an unpleasant or difficult process or situation without giving way.</i><br />
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I speak of this now because if you are a Human you will, no doubt, have moments (or days or weeks...) when you think you simply aren't going to make it. Something of such great force is going to test you to your very limits. You may experience these moments in the form of heartbreak or grief or intense and unyielding pain, in doses so huge that it will shake you to your very core.<br />
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I know this because I have.<br />
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Yesterday was one such day.<br />
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When I woke up from a not-so-restful slumber, my entire body was at DefCon TEN. That is to say, I could NOT move. Literally. It was so intense that all I could do was lie there and try my very best to BREATHE until I was able to move. I called to my puppy so she'd come lie next to me. I find great comfort in her close to me. Also, she always knows when I'm in distress. She lies there next to me, giving me the occasional kisses, and simply BE with me.<br />
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It helps.<br />
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It took nearly an hour before I could get out of bed and make my way to the bathroom. The only word that can describe what it may have looked like is "frozen". As if my entire body was made of shards of ice. And trying to walk was like having those shards cut me into a million pieces with each step.<br />
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NOT fun.<br />
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As I made my way to the bathroom, I asked any and every Entity that might be lookin' out for me to PLEASE stay close. PLEASE don't let me fall or crash to the floor. PLEASE, for ALLTHATISGOOD, HELP ME.<br />
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They must've been listening. I made it to the bathroom, and back to my bed where I spent the ENTIRE day. The only time I got up was to let the Puppy out/in, feed her, and pour myself more water. Eating was out of the question. So was our daily walk.<br />
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Like I said: <i>NOT </i>fun.<br />
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Strangely enough, though, I didn't panic. Somewhere inside me I knew that this, too, would pass. I would be able to resume some semblance of normalcy if I could just stay calm and let my body do whatever it was trying to do. I have no idea what that was. But I trusted it and kept breathing deeply all through the day, into the evening, right into sleep again.<br />
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I slept much better last night and when I awoke this morning I knew the moment had passed. I knew I'd be able to get up and not have to endure that ungodly pain. I knew I had "made it".<br />
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Now, just to clarify here, I'm not sharing these unhappy moments with you so that you'll feel badly for me or about any of this. Rather, I'm sharing because I know I'm not the only one who deals with such things. I KNOW there are millions of people on this Planet who must also endure their own kinds of pain. And I know that many of those people may not be equipped to deal.<br />
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So it is for YOU, my Fellow Humans, I share this story so that you might remember that, no matter WHAT you're going through...no matter how horrible or excruciating or utterly defeated you may be feeling,<br />
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<i><b>THIS, TOO, SHALL PASS.</b></i><br />
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You <i>will </i>rise up again, like the proverbial Phoenix, and get to start anew.<br />
You <i>will </i>find Joy again.<br />
You <i>will </i>find Ease again.<br />
You <i>will</i> get on with your beautiful Life again, all the stronger for having endured your challenges.<br />
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You can count on it.<br />
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And yes, I still believe...<br />
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<i><b>Joy is a CHOICE.</b></i><br />
<i><b><br /></b></i>
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{"In the Arms of Love", Mixed media art by C.Olivia Strate}</div>
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JoyZAChoicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03720848507861075166noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660222046188201929.post-83991368033732721762019-03-23T13:42:00.000-07:002019-03-23T13:42:50.000-07:00...NOW I Get It!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Hello My People ~<br />
<br />
I have returned at long last because I FINALLY figured out that Google is NOT doing away with my Blog but rather the "Google+" feature. I kept trying to figure out how in the world they could do such a thing (about the Blog, I mean) and then, after allllll these months I realized what the hell they were talking about.<br />
<br />
Sometimes, I'm not such a quick study.<br />
<br />
Anywayz....<br />
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I had stopped posting because I figured it was futile. Hence my absence. Now that I know...I shall commence with the JOYful meanderings and hope that I haven't lost all my readers. Otherwise...I'm just beginning anew...and the Universe will bring more Peoples from new places.<br />
<br />
So...on that note...just a quick update:<br />
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I have FINALLY taken that next step to selling my art work. It's taken me a very long time and a host of conversations with some of my closest Tribe to realize that I AM good enough.<br />
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Bet you didn't know I had my own doubts, did ya?<br />
(grin)<br />
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I've had prints made of FIVE of my favorite pieces, along with blank cards (of same pieces) and am now in the process of loading all that stuff to my Etsy shop where folks can purchase one (or FIVE!) for themselves. This is a slow and tedious process...but one that I will embrace fully as I navigate these very new waters. If you happen to be curious, interested, or simply in the market for some fabulous original works of art, you can find the {blank} cards already in my shop here:<br />
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<a href="https://www.etsy.com/shop/woodwitch" target="_blank">Olivia Art by Woodwitch</a><br />
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{Just to be clear: the Woodwitch name is one I've had for too many years to let go of now. So, don't be confused by that. "Olivia Art" is the moniker for my original art works. They are my own...and ME would be "C. Olivia Strate" OR Camille Olivia OR Camille Olivia Strate. Did I just make matters more confusing????}<br />
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And...lastly...here is just one of the five for your enJOYment. It is called "Red Boots". It happens to be my favorite.<br />
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Big hugs to ALL of you. And thanks for sticking with me!</div>
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C. Olivia ~~~</div>
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JoyZAChoicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03720848507861075166noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660222046188201929.post-51969870232610197412018-09-17T14:09:00.003-07:002018-09-17T14:09:49.786-07:00...outside the box...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
You will not find your answers inside the box.<br />
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Just ask Pandora.<br />
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JoyZAChoicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03720848507861075166noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660222046188201929.post-640548024364939092018-09-05T10:49:00.001-07:002018-09-05T10:49:07.405-07:00...REAL Courage...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<br />
Today, as I stand to face the unyielding pain that seems to wish me undone, I am again reminded that one must dig deep to find REAL courage. Because no matter what "they" may say or how "they" insist that there is "nothing we can do", in my own heart I know that none of this is my Truth. I do not believe, for one second, that I was made this way so that I would succumb to such nonsense. Being stubborn and tenacious and utterly immovable in my belief, I will not abide their hopeless predictions. I will stand and face this Thing, whatever it may be, and hear Its message. I will hold fast to my Courage and trust that there is a <i>reason</i>. For all of it. And so, as much for myself as for those who may need it, here is a reminder of what REAL Courage IS:<br />
<br />
"You risked your life, but what else have you ever risked?<br />
Have you ever risked disapproval?<br />
Have you ever risked a belief?<br />
There is nothing particularly courageous in risking one's life.<br />
So you lose it...you go to your hero's heaven and everything is milk and honey til the end of time, right?<br />
You get your reward and suffer no earthly consequences.<br />
That's not courage.<br />
Real courage is risking something you have to keep on living with.<br />
Real courage s risking something that might force you to rethink your thoughts<br />
and suffer change<br />
and stretch consciousness.<br />
Real courage is risking one's<br />
Cliches."<br />
<br />
{from the novel "Another Roadside Attraction" by Tom Robbins}<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
JoyZAChoicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03720848507861075166noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660222046188201929.post-25070650891318352442018-08-30T11:13:00.000-07:002018-08-31T09:20:10.659-07:00My Lottery Dream Home<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
A few lifetimes ago, I did a research paper for a Psychology class. I was curious to know what people want...and why. So, for about a month, I stood outside various campus buildings and waited for students to pass by, asking them.<br />
<br />
What do you want?<br />
Why do you want it?<br />
How do you think the having of it is going to make you feel?<br />
<br />
Without exception every single student began with what they <i>didn't </i>want. <i><b>Without exception</b></i>. Once they'd given that answer I would ask, "Okay. So now I know what you <i>don't</i> want. But the question here is, 'What DO you want?'"<br />
<br />
After all these years, I can still recall how the majority of them had to think for more than a few moments to come up with an answer. Many of them couldn't answer at all. They simply didn't <i>know </i>what they wanted. But they were quite passionate about what they didn't.<br />
<br />
To this day, I do occasionally ask people the same question. Mostly because I am still curious. Not surprisingly, their answers are the same.<br />
Every.<br />
Single.<br />
Time.<br />
They tell me what they don't want, which leads me to the next question (which is a bit different from the one I asked back then):<br />
" Yes but... do you <i>know </i>what you <i>want</i>?"<br />
<br />
It's almost scary to hear their responses. Really. Scary. Because the majority of them tell me what they don't want, and why, and this always, always leads to my (now) next question which is, "Why does that scare you so much?"<br />
<br />
I have learned, over the course of my own experiences, that Fear is a major force in the lives of many. We are constantly fed stories, on the news, and on social media, and in the countless ads we see on television that lead us to more FEAR. It's small wonder that so many people walk around in a constant state of anxiety, given the massive doses we're fed on a daily basis.<br />
<br />
A sad and sorry testament to our "modern" lives.<br />
<br />
So...the other day, whilst watching a tennis match, a commercial for an HGTV show came on. The name of this show is: "My Lottery Dream Home". In this commercial, the host goes on and on about how he's going to show you how to live the lavish life of a millionaire..."because you CAN!". I watched this 60 second spot with an ever-growing queasiness in my stomach. The whole of the ad was as over-the-top as you might expect for such a show. It was, quite literally, sickening.<br />
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<br />
And it got me to thinking about what people really want. Again. Why do people think that living in a garish mansion with gold toilets and massive circular stairways and foyers big enough to land a plane and 10 bathrooms and gated driveways and (fill in the rest. I know you can do it!) is going to make them feel any better than they do living in a 3-bedroom house with porcelain toilets in their 2 bathrooms? What makes people hunger for such things? Do they really think that having all that fit-for-a-king stuff is going to make them feel "more than"? Is living a millionaire lifestyle what it's going to take to make any of us feel better about ourselves? Do we think that these things are going to fill up the gaping holes in our souls?<br />
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Call me crazy (or maybe you'll call me other things. No matter. There's a point to all this. If you'll just hear me out.) but I find the whole gamut of such TV shows as distasteful as rotten fish on a bed of maggots. I'm not saying that wanting "more" is a bad thing. In fact, I believe we're wired that way. It's how we progress. As a species. We achieve whatever it is we strive for and then we set higher goals for ourselves in order to achieve more. I believe it is as innate a characteristic as wanting our children to live better lives than we did. HOWEVER...<br />
<br />
{Oh you just KNEW that was coming, didn't you?}<br />
<br />
It seems to me that this constant supply of fear-driven information has somehow warped our sense of reality. We see the women on "Real Housewives of....(whatever city you want) and we want to live <i>those</i> lives. Forget the fact that all that crap is staged and most of them don't actually live/talk/dress that way. It's TELEVISION, for Pete's sake! And then there are the Victoria's Secret models strutting across the screen with their "perfect" breasts and teeny waists and pouty lips, all dolled up to perfection and starving for a burger and fries. We see them and want to look like them and drive ourselves crazy when we can't reach such impossible standards. We spend hundreds of millions of dollars on cosmetic surgery to avoid the signs of aging. We buy things we can't really afford on credit cards that are so maxed out we're drowning in debt, all because we want what we don't have so we can feel better about ourselves.<br />
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<br />
Where does it end?<br />
How can we expect our world to evolve into a better, kinder, more humane place when we're all so consumed by...<br />
CONSUMPTION?<br />
<br />
I wrote that paper when I was a mere 20-something. And still, the questions eat at me.<br />
<br />
What do you want?<br />
Why do you want it?<br />
How do you think the having of it is going to make you feel?<br />
<br />
Do you suppose that all this madness is driving us to extinction OR to the realization that our lives don't need to be lavish to be GOOD? Do you think that by seeing the hatred and injustice and utter waste, we can clear our heads and be inspired to ignore the Fear long enough to right the wrongs that seem so horribly abundant in our world today?<br />
<br />
Do you THINK...that we can find our way again and decide, once and for all, that "things" do not the Human make?<br />
<br />
If JOY is our reason for Being, (as I believe it is), and we get to <i>choose</i>, why, then, do we choose to suffer instead? Why do we ache for things that, in all likelihood, will never make us feel the Joy that comes from hearing a child laugh or watching a litter of puppies frolic or feeling the kiss of the Sun on our faces?<br />
<br />
If living in a mansion with gold toilets and enormous foyers is your version of Joy, my only question then is:<br />
<br />
Are you living the Joy while you try to get there?<br />
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JoyZAChoicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03720848507861075166noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660222046188201929.post-26027727153896697312018-08-25T12:32:00.000-07:002018-08-25T12:32:14.363-07:00Insights From Robin Rice<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The following was posted on FaceBook by my pal, Robin Rice. Robin is a marvelous Being who spends her life in the service of others. She offers a variety of courses that are intended to help you along your chosen path, regardless of what that path may be. I have taken several of her courses and can attest to the impact they've had on my life. She really <i>is </i>a marvelous Being!<br />
<br />
With that said, here is her response to a question that has been posed to her frequently in the past months. I hope you will read it through. And then, read it again. Let her words soak into your psyche. Because...for PETE'S SAKE!...there's enough crap getting in there that isn't doing you a bit of good!<br />
<br />
So then...<br />
<br />
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{photo credits to Craig Whitehead}<br />
<br />
"Recently I was asked about what I thought of the future. Would 2018 be the hard year that ends, or was it going further into 2019? I've been asked this question by a lot of people in a lot of different circumstances, and each time I try to answer it from my greater worldview at the moment.<br />
<br />
Keep in mind that in many ways, I have an insider view. I work with leaders who are creating 2019. They don't know the future wins and losses any more than anyone else, but they know who and what is lining up to take a swing. I listen carefully to everything I hear, read all I can, and synthesize it into a worldview that is ever evolving but not entirely uneducated.<br />
<br />
Despite all that, here is my answer:<br />
<br />
I think we are exhausted. We have used up all our mental energy on the news and the stress that brings. Our entertainment is violent and depressing and - worst of all - insignificant. We empathize with our new "friends" (Isn't everyone in the world a friend, now that we can see their house on fire or neighborhood under siege?), some of whom are always in some kind of trouble somewhere. We have run out of a sense of psychic safety in our food and water and at the same time we are utterly unhinged over the cost and effort to get the "healthy body" we think we need to be "good enough" to win the human game.<br />
<br />
We actually believe we see everything so we believe everything is falling apart and since we know we cannot fix everything we are undeniably screwed. (We don't see everything, we see the negative cultural narrative. Last night a beautiful baby was laughing and a kid helped another kid with his homework and a lovely new couple made love on a beach - did you hear about that? No?)<br />
<br />
We have so much world fear that we have moved out of the safety zone where the cultural narrative includes that we will all be okay, if not this year then next, and into the narrative where a very real $400 parking ticket could mean that the driver's kids don't eat this week. That latter narrative erodes our strength even when it is not our personal story. But we care, so we do not turn away from those stories.<br />
<br />
We follow these narratives, again and again, caught up in the stories of US ALL which are added to our own stories. These stories are not always true, and yet we are primed to click on and tune into the scary/bad/horrible/tragic ones because that might be what saves our neck some day (thank you cocktail of inherent biology and fear-based conditioning).<br />
<br />
When we have had enough of all this (sorry if I have tired you just reading this, but I am going somewhere with it), which is often before 9 a.m. in the day, and we have nothing in place to counter this battering of the psyche, we crumble when the bad stuff happens. And the bad stuff always happens right alongside the good stuff because it's a good/bad world.<br />
<br />
So, will 2019 be another "bad" year? Well, it will be another year of bad things and good things, like every other year. But if we do not awaken to our limits and capacities to handle a world of negative narrative, if we do not adult ourselves and turn off that narrative when we have had enough, we will be too exhausted to enjoy the good. Our metaphorical $400 parking ticket will sink our inner bank of resources and we will not be able to feed our children any kind of hope and goodness.<br />
<br />
If, on the other hand, we stop working harder, playing the games that defeat us from the outset, become self-aware of our limits and stick to them (which could mean putting ourselves to be on time, no longer eating all that damned sugar, or making time to make love more often, whatever), we might actually experience a very good bad/good year.<br />
<br />
So anyway, that's what I said (and then some). Something to think about, anyway."<br />
<br />
<br />
It may not surprise you that this very missive leads us right back to what this very blog is all about:<br />
<br />
CHOICES.<br />
<br />
We get to choose the narratives we turn on...and turn off. Either choice isn't going to affect what we can't change in the first place. But one choice will affect our well-being, our capacity to actually do something when we are compelled to take action, and keep us from withering away under the crushing pressure of this madness.<br />
<br />
As always, the choice is YOURS.<br />
<br />
P.S. One last thing: should you choose to find out more about Robin and her wealth of fabulous stuff, you can find her at the following sites:<br />
<br />
<a href="http://robinrice.com/">RobinRice.com</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://bewhoyouare.com/">BeWhoYouAre.com</a><br />
<br />
Choose well, my friends.<br />
{And please do include some JOY, yes?}<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
JoyZAChoicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03720848507861075166noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660222046188201929.post-89118713239499480162018-02-10T11:35:00.001-08:002018-02-10T11:35:20.981-08:00CELEBRATE WHAT’S RIGHT WITH THE WORLD! Take the 18 minutes to watch this. I PROMISE you won't be sorry.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
Cheers to you on this fine and fabulous Saturday.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
<br /><br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/gD_1Eh6rqf8" width="480"></iframe>JoyZAChoicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03720848507861075166noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660222046188201929.post-74486505376991738622018-01-29T12:39:00.000-08:002018-01-29T12:39:19.960-08:00when we were kids<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Nothin' says 'happy' like kids playing. Romping about with nary a care in the world. In pajamas.<br />
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<br />
Big kids too. When we're wearing pajamas, something inside us kicks in and the child we are seems to bubble up and help us relax. As if just by wearing those cozy garments, we can shed the masks we wear by day...and just BE.<br />
<br />
{Aside: I tried to find a video for "big kids pajama party" and was hit with a barrage of clips just this side of porn. So sad.}<br />
<br />
But this isn't about pajamas. Or goats. Or the lack of big kids' pajama parties on YouTube.<br />
<br />
{Aside #2: If you're somebody who's looking for YouTube fame, here's your chance.}<br />
<br />
What it <i><b>is </b></i>about is how Big Kids have forgotten how easily they can engage their imaginations to ease themselves out of stress and back into Flow. Because if I've learned anything in the last ten years, it's this:<br />
<br />
One can NOT find Flow when one is wrought with Stress.<br />
It just ain't gonna happen.<br />
It is an actual impossibility.<br />
Your brain won't let you, no matter how hard you try.<br />
This I know for sure.<br />
<br />
Short of getting into some long-winded missive on all this, knowing what I know about attention spans these days, I'm simply going to leave you with this:<br />
<br />
What IF, rather than wallowing in whatever it is that's troubling you, you go put on your coziest pajamas and have a pillow fight. Or make some S'mores. Or erect a make-shift tent from sheets and blankets right there in your living room and read something fun by the light of a candle.<br />
<br />
{Aside #3: just PLEASE don't burn the house down!}<br />
<br />
Engage your imagination and PLAY. Play yourself into a giggle-fit. Laugh until the tears roll down your face and you're snortin' through your nose. Have some hot chocolate with gobs of whipped cream. Dunk some Oreos.<br />
And for Pete's sake...turn off your phone, computer, and any semblance of "news"!<br />
<br />
Play.<br />
Laugh.<br />
Engage your IMAGINATION.<br />
<br />
{Last Aside: Let me know how you sleep tonight.}<br />
<br />
<br />
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JoyZAChoicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03720848507861075166noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660222046188201929.post-51488121026419617712018-01-25T12:42:00.001-08:002018-01-25T12:42:10.072-08:00If it ain't broke...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Says it all, don't you think?</span></div>
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JoyZAChoicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03720848507861075166noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660222046188201929.post-3758348150989723622018-01-22T15:40:00.002-08:002018-01-22T16:06:41.891-08:00Raven's Song<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Raven is the bearer of Magick. A
harbinger of messages from the Cosmos, Raven holds these messages in
its midnight wings, understood only by those who are worthy. Because
of its ability to shape-shift, Raven is often considered a Trickster.
And a healer. And the Keeper of Secrets. When a Human seeks to
understand its own hidden thoughts, areas of its life it is unwilling
to face, Raven will unveil those secrets. But only when Human is
willing to hear.</div>
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This illustration is my homage to
Raven. I have always been drawn to these Black Winged Ones, from my
earliest memories up to this day. I once had a Raven friend that
played with us; me and my cherished Raja Dog. I remember watching
them play for hours, the Raven toying with her as she tried her best
to catch him. It was, and always will be, one of my most treasured
memories of our time together.
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The Tree is Raven's resting place. The
place where its young are kept safe until they, too, can take to the
skies. The guitar, buried in the Tree, waits for the worthy Human to
bring music to the world. Raven sings the Tree's song, calling to
that one who is made to hear it. This is the message of this drawing.
That we might sit quietly, honoring Tree and Raven and the Song that
is our own.</div>
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Actual size: 11" x 14". Graphite on 80# Acid Free Strathmore paper. Unframed.</div>
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$125</div>
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If you would like to purchase this piece, please use the Contact link (over on the right side of this page, just below the Profile)</div>
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JoyZAChoicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03720848507861075166noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660222046188201929.post-84033800515791157202018-01-19T14:10:00.000-08:002018-01-19T14:10:24.289-08:00...and on the seventh day...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
She rested.<br />
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JoyZAChoicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03720848507861075166noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660222046188201929.post-10336026030597199582018-01-17T15:09:00.002-08:002018-01-17T15:09:10.968-08:00even on your worst day...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7vJV8A_FXsI/Wl_XNn9rdTI/AAAAAAAADw4/l68VjJFGZQkiL1QEUkXtphQ-aYxMHW2MgCLcBGAs/s1600/2015-10-21%2B027.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="765" data-original-width="1024" height="298" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7vJV8A_FXsI/Wl_XNn9rdTI/AAAAAAAADw4/l68VjJFGZQkiL1QEUkXtphQ-aYxMHW2MgCLcBGAs/s400/2015-10-21%2B027.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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#joyzachoice #livinglivee #choosejoy #possibilities</div>
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JoyZAChoicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03720848507861075166noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660222046188201929.post-32195312681404129632018-01-16T13:49:00.001-08:002018-01-16T13:49:31.643-08:00Living Livee<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
And here we go!<br />
<br />
After more than a decade here at JoyZAChoice, this Blossoming Being has decided it's time to S-T-R-E-T-C-H. I will continue to post here too, and take on the challenge of TWO blogs with optimistic enthusiasm. If you will click on the link below, you'll find my first post. And Introduction of sorts. Rather than repeat what's already there, I'll just say this:<br />
<br />
Welcome to my other world.<br />
<br />
{For my die-hard fans: please do not dismay. LivingLivee will be just as mindful as JoyZAChoice, with the added bonus of no limitations. I promise not to post any Ickiness or otherwise unpleasant stuff. It just ain't my nature to do any of that nonsense. Grins and giggles and a little snortin' through me nose...{<br />
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Carry on, my friends ~~~<br />
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<a href="http://livinglivee.com/">LivingLivee.com</a><br />
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#LivingLivee #CamilleOlivia #CamilleOliviaStrate #JoyZAChoice</div>
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JoyZAChoicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03720848507861075166noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660222046188201929.post-46594974354099644672018-01-15T15:27:00.000-08:002018-01-15T15:27:42.444-08:00mustering faith<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Have you ever noticed that when you're in a spot and you're looking for answers, people love to throw around the phrase, "have a little faith". They speak of this "thing" as if everyone knows what it is or how to have it. As if we all learned the secret to Faith and can call on it whenever we need to.<br />
<br />
The trouble with Faith is that the more you need it, the less available it seems to be. Perhaps it is my aversion to all things religious. Or maybe it's because the only time I question this <i>thing </i>is, well, when I need it most. More often than not, when I hear someone utter those words, I roll my eyes and use every ounce of willpower I have to not punch them in the face.<br />
<br />
{YIKES!}<br />
<br />
So what is it, exactly? This thing called Faith?<br />
<br />
I once heard Maya Angelou's son tell Oprah that his mother had "faith like a rock"; he added that he wanted to have that kind of faith but hadn't the first clue about how to get it.<br />
<br />
I nodded my head in agreement.<br />
<br />
I have friends who are deeply religious. Although I don't share their beliefs, it has never kept us from being and <i><b>staying </b></i>friends. We don't hold it against each other that our belief systems are different. There is no judgment or ill-will. It's the old, "to each his own" kind of attitude. A rare and lovely kind of bond.<br />
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I also have friends who claim atheism. I stand on that edge...ever mindful of my own meanderings when things get tough. How is it that I don't believe in the "God of Abraham", or any god for that matter, but when the shit hits the fan, my first thought is, "sweet mother of Jesus, HELP ME!"? I find this both odd and disturbing. Because when I scan my soul for those "core" beliefs, god is not among them. I find the whole idea a bit ridiculous. And a whole lot of other not-so-nice things too. Mostly, though, I feel like there's just too much horrible history about how "people of faith" and/or "God-fearing Christians" use(d) their <i>interpretations </i>to terrorize and kill anyone who didn't buy what they were selling. From the Crusades to the Ku Klux Klan, and all the rest in between, these people have used "the word of god" to enslave and decimate entire populations.<br />
<br />
{See what I mean about "aversion"?}<br />
<br />
So what is it about Faith that eludes those of us without religion? Is Faith <i><b>exclusive </b></i>to religious belief? Do you have to believe in some kind of god in order to have it? And what about the other gods? Like Odin and Zeus and Brahma and Pan {my personal favorite} and Gaia (did you know she was Thor's mother?), and Kokopelli (same dude as Pan but of Native American origins)? If I believe in <i>those </i>gods, does Faith still carry weight?<br />
<br />
At this point, I think it would be a good time to quote one of my favorite Humans {in the whole Universe!}. Because...he kinda says it all with this Vanity Card (May 2013). His name is Chuck Lorre. He is <i><b>my </b></i>Genius. When I first read this one, I laughed a rip-snortin' laugh, got up to write it down, and made a note to write him a letter asking him to marry me. {Which I <i>did</i>. The very next day. And several times since. He has yet to respond despite dozens of proposals.}<br />
<br />
"<i>I've been thinking about becoming a polytheist. No, this has nothing to do with missing Battlestar Galactica. And yes, I realize my blasphemous notion flies in the face of a few thousand years of "Ye shall have no other gods before me." (To be honest, even when I was a kid that commandment troubled me. It sounded like a jealous girlfriend saying, If I catch you looking at other girls, you're in big trouble, Mister?" And don't get me started on how "no other gods before me" kinda implies that there might actually <b>be </b>some other gods loitering about.) But my main reason for considering becoming a Pagan (Pagish? Jewgan?), is that it neatly answers the age-old question, "Why does god allow so much suffering in the world?" When tragedy strikes, the monotheistic approach can only offer the tired old, "It is not for us to question god's will." Really? Why not us? Who else is in the questioning business? But look what happens when we ask the same question from a pantheistic perspective. Why do gods allow so much suffering in the world? Because outside of their particular area of expertise: farming, war, fertility, what-have-you, they are not even remotely in control. The buck stops nowhere. (In this scenario both the Old Testament and New Testament deities are off the hook as far as your general suffering is concerned.) But here's the really good news: with a polytheistic approach to prayer we can micro-target our beseeching. Trouble with love? Take it to Aphrodite. Not catching enough fish? Poseidon. Are you regularly waking up from alcohol-induced blackouts in the sleeping compartment of long-haul trucks that carry circus equipment and little people? That sounds like a job for Dionysus. Need your sitcom pilot to get picked up for the Fall season? Les Moonves. In other words, whatever the crisis might be, there's a god ready to take your call. What are you waiting for? Call now and receive a free goat-sacrificing kit! (Goat sold separately</i>)"<br />
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<span style="text-align: justify;">And THAT, my friend, pretty much says what I think about the whole god thang. </span><br />
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But it still doesn't answer my question: </div>
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If you don't <i><b>have </b></i>Faith, where do you <i><b>get </b></i>it?</div>
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#joyzachoice #chucklorre #livinglivee #faith</div>
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JoyZAChoicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03720848507861075166noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660222046188201929.post-18304366692145963502018-01-02T16:06:00.000-08:002018-01-02T16:06:17.493-08:00Highly Sensitive Beings Part II<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Today is the second day of the new year. By all accounts, it would seem that there are many who have boarded the Optimism Train, doing what they do each time a new year rolls 'round. Resolutions are made. Hopes are renewed. Energies rise. Everyone telling everyone else..<br />
<br />
"YOU CAN DO IT!"<br />
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"THIS is YOUR year!"<br />
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"YES YOU CAN!"<br />
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All lovely and encouraging and sweet. Also naive and even a little condescending. Not because you <i>can't</i>. Simply because the people posting or texting or speaking these encouragements don't believe you <i>can </i>any more than you do. It's a clear cut case of RAH, RAH, SISSKOOOMBAH from all the mamas in the stands of a blow-out game.<br />
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Sound pessimistic?<br />
<br />
I suppose, at this point, you might think so. It may even sound a bit cynical. <i>But </i>since this is a space where <i><b>choosing Joy</b></i> is the entire reason for my being here, and since I am fully committed to that mission, I would ask you to have a little trust here. I have promised to offer thoughts/ideas/meanderings on the matter of Joy. I shan't recant on that promise.<br />
<br />
To that end, I want to offer a more <i>honest </i>bit of encouragement so that, on day nineteen (or thereabouts) of your New Year's Resolutions, when your excuses begin to outweigh your resolve, you will, perhaps, hear this little voice and stick to your guns. Because even though I don't know you personally, I do know that it is possible to become more YOU. It's part of the reason why choosing Joy is so important to me. In my experience, the more you <i>choose </i>Joy and <i>deny </i>suffering, the more authentically you can (and will!) live the Life you came here to live.<br />
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Back in September of last year, I wrote a bit about <a href="https://joyizzachoice.blogspot.com/2017/09/highly-sensitive-beings.html" target="_blank">Highly Sensitive Beings</a>. The piece was intended to encourage those who bear what is often an overwhelming onus. HSBs are aware of the subtle shifts in energy, whether it is planet-wide or in the neighbors down the street. A curse and a gift rolled into one giant ball of nerve endings. The beginning of a new year, along with all these resolutions and promises and individual resolve can be even more overwhelming than the ordinary goings-on for HSBs. There is so much focus by the "general population" that it can feel like rather than having a so-called new beginning, it is, instead, the not-so-yummy icing on an already over-iced cake.<br />
<br />
NOT fun.<br />
<br />
{Stay with me! I promise I won't let you down!}<br />
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And so...<br />
<br />
The whole reason for a "Part II" here is to remind all you HSBs that you don't have to bear that weight. It's not your job to encourage, coddle, or otherwise fake your way through the onslaught of New Year's Resolutions your friends and family and coworkers are tossing around like glittery confetti on New Year's Eve.<br />
<br />
Let me say that again:<br />
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<i><b>IT IS NOT YOUR JOB.</b></i><br />
<br />
<i>Your </i>job is to moderate the energies you choose to share with those who matter to you. <i>Especially </i>your own beautiful Self. <i>Your </i>job is to maintain some semblance of balance while the rest of the world goes on a free-for-all with their short-lived optimism and convictions and mostly foolish promises that may or may not be kept. <i>Your </i>job is to keep that Highly Sensitive Heart wrapped in the arms of Love so that you, too, can continue on whatever journey you have chosen to take, no matter how important it may seem to anyone else.<br />
<br />
I said it before and I'll say it again:<br />
<br />
The world NEEDS you.<br />
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The world is a better place for having you in it.<br />
<br />
You are a rare and beautiful Flower whose beauty can heal and nourish and scatter Joy like no other.<br />
<br />
And so...<br />
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It is utterly and absolutely essential that you keep your Highly Sensitive Being-ness well and hale and<br />
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FULL OF JOY.<br />
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Here's to MORE ... of whatever you choose.<br />
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JoyZAChoicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03720848507861075166noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660222046188201929.post-24393238196164164442018-01-01T15:33:00.000-08:002018-01-01T15:33:28.228-08:00here we go...AGAIN!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I suppose the first order of business would be to wish you a MARVELOUS New Year. I, for one, am greatly relieved that 2017 is over. I don't suppose I have to get into all <i>that </i>again, right? So then....<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>HAPPY NEW YEAR! </i></span><br />
<br />
Now that we got that out of the way, I want to share something with you. You see, every year on the first day of the new year, I do a full-blown desk cleaning. That is to say, I go through my three-tiered file drawers and toss what needs tossing, wipe everything on the desk down, dust and rearrange, and finish with that oh-so satisfying sigh of accomplishment. Not sure when this little tradition began but don't much care. It makes me happy to do it, and more often than not I find a few forgotten treasures along the way.<br />
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DELICIOUS!<br />
<br />
The following is the result of said cleaning. I can't remember who sent it to me, but I'm pretty sure it was mailed inside a card because it has those folds that would occur if a legal sized piece of paper was put inside a greeting card. So, to whomever sent it to me, I thank you (again!). It's so lovely to be reminded that there are people in my world who care enough to send me stuff like this.<br />
<br />
Lest I digress any further...<br />
<br />
The piece is titled "Sunscreen Speech"; it was written by the Chicago Tribune's Mary Schmich and then the director/writer/producer, Baz Luhrmann did a take-off. It is also important to note that even though many credit Mr. Luhrmann with authoring the piece, he properly credited Ms. Schmich as the original author. (Gee! Imagine that! A man of integrity!)<br />
<br />
Anywayz....it goes like this:<br />
<br />
"Ladies and Gentlemen of the class of '97...Wear sunscreen.<br />
<br />
If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience. I will dispense this advice now.<br />
<br />
Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth; oh nevermind; you will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they have faded. But trust me...in 20 years you'll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked.You're not as fat as you imagine.<br />
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Don't worry about the future; or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubblegum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind; the kind that blindside you at 4PM on some idle Tuesday.<br />
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Do one thing every day that scares you.<br />
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Sing.<br />
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Don't be reckless with other people's hearts; don't put up with people who are reckless with yours.<br />
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Floss.<br />
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Don't waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind...the race is long and in the end it's only with yourself.<br />
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Remember the compliments you receive, forget the insults; if you succeed in doing this, tell me how.<br />
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Keep your old love letters, throw away your old bank statements.<br />
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Stretch.<br />
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Don't feel guilty if you don't know what to do with your life...the most interesting people I know didn't know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives; some of the most interesting 40 year olds I know still don't.<br />
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Get plenty of calcium.<br />
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Be kind to your knees. You'll miss them when they're gone.<br />
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Maybe you'll marry, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll have children, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll divorce at 40, maybe you'll dance the Funky Chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary. Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much or berate yourself either. Your choices are half chance. So are everybody else's.<br />
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Enjoy your body, use it every way you can. Don't be afraid of it or what other people think of it. It's the greatest instrument you'll ever own.<br />
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Dance...even if you have nowhere to do it but in your own living room.<br />
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Read the directions, even if you don't follow them.<br />
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Do NOT read beauty magazines; they will only make you feel ugly.<br />
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Get to know your parents; you'll never know when they'll be gone for good. Be nice to your siblings; they are the best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.<br />
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Understand that friends come and go, but for the precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography in lifestyle because the older you get, the more you need the people you knew when you were young.<br />
<br />
Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard; live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.<br />
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Travel.<br />
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Accept certain inalienable truths; prices will rise, politicians will philander, you too will get old, and when you do you'll fantasize that when you were young prices were reasonable, politicians were noble and children respected their elders.<br />
<br />
Respect your elders.<br />
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Don't expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund, maybe you have a wealthy spouse; but you never know when either one might run out.<br />
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Don't mess too much with your hair or by the time it's 40, it will look 85.<br />
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Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia; dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts, and recycling it for more than it's worth.<br />
<br />
But...trust me on the sunscreen."<br />
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<img src="https://bellafloria.files.wordpress.com/2010/06/istock_sunscreen-small1.jpg" /><br />
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JoyZAChoicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03720848507861075166noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660222046188201929.post-5235677689398936882017-12-28T14:36:00.001-08:002017-12-28T14:36:17.181-08:00My Stroke of Insight<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
One of the MOST fascinating and uplifting TEDTalks I've ever watched. I hope you will take the time too. It's a mere 18 minutes (and a few seconds) but it may just be the best 18 minutes you'll ever spend. Or...if nothing else, it may change your idea of what and how and who you are. But PLEASE, don't take my word for it. Just WATCH.<br />
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<a href="https://www.ted.com/talks/jill_bolte_taylor_s_powerful_stroke_of_insight?utm_campaign=tedspread--a&utm_medium=referral&utm_source=tedcomshare" target="_blank">"My Stroke Of Insight"</a><br />
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by Jill Bolte Taylor<br />
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<div style="max-width:854px"><div style="position:relative;height:0;padding-bottom:56.25%"><iframe src="https://embed.ted.com/talks/jill_bolte_taylor_s_powerful_stroke_of_insight" width="854" height="480" style="position:absolute;left:0;top:0;width:100%;height:100%" frameborder="0" scrolling="no" allowfullscreen></iframe></div></div>JoyZAChoicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03720848507861075166noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660222046188201929.post-38554585074478968522017-12-27T15:05:00.001-08:002017-12-27T15:05:25.329-08:00{PHEW!}<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Here, on this the twenty-seventh day of the year, as we wind down to yet another year ending, I can't help but feel...relieved. Oh, how happy I shall be when this horrid year is over. Me thinks it has been tough for many on our Planet. Not just here in the United States, but all 'round the world. There have been so many dreadful happenings. AND rather than go through that "list", let us simply say,<br />
<br />
"THANK THE GODS IT'S OVER!" and move on to the business of BETTER.<br />
<br />
Many of you make your lists of New Year's Resolutions, with, I am sure, great hope of accomplishing those things. For those of you who've been here for any length of time, you know I am not one who does ("resolutions"). I've never found them to be anything more than lies I told myself. For every one I didn't accomplish, I always felt badly for my lack of willpower or consistency or determination.<br />
<br />
UNTIL...<br />
<br />
I realized that I'm just not a person who fares well under such rigid rules. I am, instead, the kind who envisions whatever it is I would like to modify/add/remove from my world. One step at a time. One day at a time. Works for me. Without all the guilt!<br />
<br />
To that end, I thought it might be a good time to pose a few seeds for your new year too.<br />
<br />
<b>WHAT IF...</b><br />
<br />
You were to focus on what makes you <b>happy </b>and leave misery for those who seem to enjoy it.<br />
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You were to begin each and every day with a simple prayer of <b>gratitude </b>for all the many JOYS that are your world.<br />
<br />
You were just not so damned hard on yourself. <b>YOU are a GIFT</b>. Treat yourSELF as one.<br />
<br />
<b>WHAT IF...</b><br />
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You simply apply LOVE to all your days.<br />
<br />
How grand a year it will be then, yes?<br />
<br />
Wishing each of you a <b>splendid, joyful, merry, loving, satisfying, creative, MARVELOUS</b><br />
<br />
NEW YEAR!<br />
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JoyZAChoicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03720848507861075166noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660222046188201929.post-72912271028936736312017-12-18T09:45:00.000-08:002017-12-18T09:45:08.031-08:00Chuck Lorre Productions<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Thank you, Mr. Lorre.<br />
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{I'm still waiting for your answer to my marriage proposal.}<br />
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CHUCK LORRE PRODUCTIONS, #575</h2>
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Back in the sixties when <em>Star Trek</em> debuted, you couldn't help but notice that the bridge of the Starship Enterprise was a multi-cultural, multi-national, multi-intelligent species sort of arrangement. It portrayed, to my impressionable young mind, an inevitable kumbaya, pluralistic future. It's only lately that I've come to understand how naive that world view was. I now see that human nature, particularly during times of stress, becomes tribalistic, not pluralistic. Which is neither good nor bad. It's probably just how we're wired, a survival mechanism baked into our DNA. Under pressure, the prime directive is to protect the tribe. Genetically, that makes perfect sense. Human beings without a tribe tend to starve or get eaten. Now I don't want to cast aspersions, or "throw shade" as the kids like to say, but I would like to point out one thing I find painfully obvious: He's not in your tribe. He's not in my tribe. In fact, if you look closely, you'll see he belongs to no tribe. And he never really has. Make of that what you will.</div>
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JoyZAChoicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03720848507861075166noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660222046188201929.post-70106962185248292752017-12-07T13:37:00.002-08:002017-12-07T13:37:35.113-08:00The Howl<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
In the Howl<br />
there is a Whisper.<br />
The Whisper is your Truth.<br />
Listen.<br />
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~C.O. Strate<br />
12.7.17<br />
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JoyZAChoicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03720848507861075166noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660222046188201929.post-2665611966917811072017-09-18T13:57:00.000-07:002017-09-18T13:57:56.424-07:00Serenity Path<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I must have hit a nerve. Or, rather, a BUNCH of nerves. Because my readership skyrocketed after I posted "<a href="https://joyizzachoice.blogspot.com/2017/09/highly-sensitive-beings.html" target="_blank">Highly Sensitive Beings</a>". While it's a bit surprising, it isn't. I'm guessing, though, that it has as much to do with the many HSBs on this Planet as it does the need for some semblance of <i>ease</i>. I suppose people are trying not to freak out, what with all the tragic loss of life and the "natural disasters" of late, not to mention the ever-increasing division that has come to the front and center of a nation under duress. But I don't believe this is just a "national" thang. The whole <i>world </i>seems to be in flux, and, for anyone who has such keen sensitivities, it makes for one whopper of a pill to swallow.<br />
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I'm not going to repeat what's already been said. You may, if you wish, click on the link (above) and read that before going further. OR, you may just read on here and forgo the previous meandering. Either way, today is about TODAY. In my world, that means another opportunity to find the Joy that abounds. So...<br />
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Right now, as I sit before this laptop and listen to the sounds around me, I am hearing the soft rush of water from the pool's waterfall. There is a bird that is singing a song of three notes, the exact same three notes, over and over again. I think it's the Mockingbird that makes its home in the tree right in front of my office window. The "tune" is the whistle call my neighbors make when calling their little dogs to come inside. Over and over and over again, those same three notes.<br />
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The wind chimes are intermittent, the sound of church bells in Florence. They bring me right back to that first morning I woke there, just a block from Il Duomo di Firenze, all those years ago. I swore I'd bring that sound home with me. I didn't stop looking until I found the chimes that now hang right outside my back door, large and long and a near-perfect replica of those church bells.<br />
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Sophie is snoozing under the bed, safe in her Puppy Cave. All I can see are her fluffy little feet, poking out from 'neath the bed skirt. Her snoring is soft, but adorably audible.<br />
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Right now, at this very moment, all is right with the world. Serenity Path is a place. A <i>real</i> place. The place I have made my home. In a world gone mad, and loud, and tragic, here is where I do my part to bring just a little calm.<br />
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And Joy.<br />
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And Love.<br />
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Me thinks the world could use more of all those things.<br />
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You're welcome.<br />
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{giggles...and a mischievous grin}<br />
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JoyZAChoicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03720848507861075166noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660222046188201929.post-86370298091934392592017-09-15T16:13:00.001-07:002017-09-15T16:13:25.885-07:00Lessons From The Critters<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Some prefer a Tarot deck. Others look to their bible. Still others prefer to consult tea leaves or astrological charts or colorfully clad gypsy women. All perfectly beautiful ways to seek meaning and clarity in one's daily adventures.<br />
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I lean to Animals. I have always found their company more akin to my own energy. Since I was a small child, I had an enormous capacity for <i>feeling </i>them. I remember, quite vividly, screaming at my cousins when they would torture snakes and birds and other creatures they'd captured in our yard. I would run to my mother and "tattle" on them, pleading with her to make them stop. I'm sure they hated me for it. I didn't care.<br />
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To this day, I have a strong connection to The Creatures {Critters, in my lingo}. <i>All </i>of them. Although I have my "favorites" there isn't a single genus I find even remotely distasteful. Unless we're talking about parasites. But then, I don't put them in the same category as "Critters".<br />
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But I digress.<br />
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One of my favorite finds is a book by Jamie Sams, a Native American woman who shares the teachings of various Tribes throughout the world. The book is called, simply, "Medicine Cards". It came with a set of cards, much like a Tarot deck. Each card has a beautiful illustration of an Animal, and in the book, a correlating description/story of this Animal and its meaning. Most of the stories begin with the teachings of The Elders, as they relate to the Animal's gifts. A fascinating and illuminating way to see each Creature. Each one has something to teach us. <i><b>If </b></i>we will listen. Some would call it "divination". I see it as a way to learn more about my Self by way of my connection to The Critters.<br />
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Besides all that...it's <i><b>FUN</b></i>!<br />
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Anyhooooo....<br />
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Any time I come across a Critter that is a bit out of my "norm", like that beautiful snake a few weeks back or, more recently, the tarantula that made itself comfy on my bathroom vanity the other night, I go to my Medicine Cards book and look up that Critters' lessons. It's a way for me to spread my wings. And prevent stale thinking. And stretch consciousness. AND have some fun!<br />
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{The snake who came to visit... a non-venomous California King who does a fine job of catching the rodents who make a mess in my tool shed.}<br />
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{The tarantula that parked itself on my bathroom vanity, apparently to find a bit of water. Or maybe it liked my soap. Another quite harmless Critter, although a bit of a startler when one is not expecting it. He was quite cooperative when I trapped him under a bowl and walked him outside. Praise Pan!}</div>
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Now....I'm guessing that there may be a few of you who think I'm out of my mind. The fact that I would get close enough to photograph that snake or capture a tarantula to walk it outside to safety may be a little more than you might be able to brave. But here's the thing: I LOVE them. ALL of them. And unless a Critter is going to do harm to my dog, or myself, I will do everything in my power to bring it to safety and let it BE. Why shouldn't I? They deserve to live as much as any of us do. AND...they were here first.</div>
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The reason I began this whole missive was twofold. I wanted to share with you Jamie's book AND a little about the way that Critters affect my world. BECAUSE if we are to spread our wings, and stretch consciousness, and BE who we are, we must first identify what works for us. And then...DO THAT. </div>
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Wishing you MORE of all that you ARE.</div>
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Cheers!</div>
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P.S. Jamie has a wonderful website, as well as several other books available for your learning pleasure. You can find her books on Amazon, as well as various other used books sites. She also has quite a selection of gatherings, workshops, etc., should you be so inclined.</div>
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JoyZAChoicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03720848507861075166noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660222046188201929.post-73351104200795993772017-09-13T10:29:00.004-07:002017-09-13T10:29:53.039-07:00Love Keeps Them Alive<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It seems true, what "they" say: that LOVE is what keeps those we've lost alive. In our hearts, they're still here. In our minds, they're as alive as they were when they were walking the Planet. In memories and stories and photographs and dreams, they remain with us, no matter the time or distance or circumstance.<br />
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Because "alive" isn't just about being not dead.<br />
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I know plenty of people who are walking around this Planet, going through the motions, sucking oxygen and gulping food and taking up space, who are anything but "alive". Those sorry Souls who have forgotten, or, perhaps, never realized that there's more to Life than a paycheck and a fancy car. These people are not <i>living</i>. They're merely trudging through, waiting for whatever it is they think will make their lives worth living.<br />
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No. These people are not "alive".<br />
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And then there are those who, even after they exit this plane, are as alive as they were when they walked the Earth. Their Hearts were (are) so full of Love that even after they leave, they're still present. You know that ones. The ones who we can't seem to forget, no matter how long ago it was that we last saw them. No matter how many years pass, they are still HERE.<br />
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My sister, Cricket, is one of <i>those</i>.<br />
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Today is her birthday. And, regardless of her having moved on from this place, she is still <i><b>here</b></i>. It's been more than two years, but still I feel her. I hear her voice. I see her around me, almost every day. Her presence was (is) so large that even in her mortal absence, she is not absent.<br />
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So, for this day, I will sing her the birthday song (in Italian, of course) and celebrate her Life. The one that affected so many people. The one that left such a deep mark on this world that it seems impossible that she'll ever really "die". She won't. Not Cricket. Cricket will live for as long as there are people who were touched by her enormous Love.<br />
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Maybe even longer.<br />
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Buon Compleano, Sorella Mia.<br />
I love you to the Stars and Beyond ~~~<br />
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{still my favorite picture of her}<br />
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JoyZAChoicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03720848507861075166noreply@blogger.com0