Connection

February 16, 2018

Everyday we hear about yet another tragedy or some horrible event in the world.  Our current political climate is divided, hurtful, and oftentimes, cruel.  We separate ourselves in an effort to preserve what little hope we all cling to.  We've allowed our values to become currency and our beliefs negotiable.  We have forgotten each other.  We have left each other.  We are more social, and less of a society then at any other time in world history.  We are not connected. 

I watch how, in the past, our Nation would come together breathing a collective sigh of relief when something wonderful happened to our people, and shed a collective tear when tragedy struck.  There seemed to be brief moments when we as a community of people, where in sync with each other.  9/11.  The assassination of President Kennedy.  When we first stepped foot on the moon.  When the Challenger exploded.  We, as a Nation, for a brief moment, were experiencing the respective joy and sadness all at the same time.  We were connected.  For what ever reason, we have lost that connection.  We are no longer in sync.  Our common values and fundamental goals have been politicized and pimped out to the highest bidder.  Our love for our fellow man is clouded with racism, sexism, and passive consumption of low hanging moral fruit.  We are no longer connected.  There was a time when the fringe of society was relegated to holes in dank caves where they spewed their hatred in secret.  They lived in the shadows of shame and ignorance.  They were disconnected and that was "them."  Now, we have become them.  We have all, to some extent, been complicit with the idea of separation.  We are slow to help, but quick to record.  We are slow to lend a hand, but quick to push away.  We are silent when we should speak out, and we speak out when we should be silent.  We vote based on sound bites, and now we have been politically devoured.   We tolerate, instead of love.  We conform, instead of transform.  We accept what we should reject, and reject what we should accept.  We tout our love for the Constitution, but refuse to be guided by the tenets therein.  We protest when its convenient.  We fail to listen to each other.  We are pessimistic, argumentative, angry, and self-centered.  We are NOT connected.

When you are connected to your fellow man, you see the world in a new way.  You consider the voices of those who you may disagree with and realize that their voice is just as important as your own.  You realize that their lives matter.  You see them as person, not parts or property.  You understand that we are all spirit beings having a human experience.  You're moved by their passion because it often comes from fear or frustration, or hurt.  You connect heart to heart, mind to mind, soul to soul.  And even if ultimately you never see eye-to-eye, you connect. 

Listen and Learn, then Do!

Wild Orchids

June 28, 2017

The life of a birthmother isn't for the faint of heart.  This article is series of testimonials and thoughts offered by birth moms. 

http://www.americaadopts.com/10-birthmother-stories-guaranteed-change-way-look-birthmothers/

Yellow Narcissus

June 08, 2017

…when Narcissus died, the goddesses of the forest appeared and found the lake, which had been fresh water, transformed into a lake of salty tears.

“Why do you weep?” the goddesses asked.

“I weep for Narcissus,” the lake replied.

“Ah, it is no surprise that you weep for Narcissus,” they said, “for though we always pursued him in the forest, you alone could contemplate his beauty close at hand.”

“But . . . was Narcissus beautiful?” The lake asked.

“Who better than you to know that?” the goddesses said in wonder. “After all, it was by your banks that he knelt each day to contemplate himself!”

The lake was silent for some time. Finally, it said:

“I weep for Narcissus, but I never noticed that Narcissus was beautiful. I weep because, each time he knelt beside my banks, I could see, in the depths of his eyes, my own beauty reflected.”

“What a lovely story,” the alchemist thought.

When Paulo Coelho wrote that well-known prologue, he likely didn't intend it to land in a newsletter that celebrates the preservation of family data and examines the the intersection between nature and...

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