A Prayer To Remember

Saturday, on an impulsive whim, I packed up my Airstream and escaped into the National Forest for a 2-week reprieve from my reality.  Faced with various business issues and some difficult impending decisions that must be made, I craved the peace and quiet of nature, where I could become more grounded and perhaps gain some clarity regarding my path, missing any maps I could hold in my hand from which I could chart my course much more easily.

 On my arrival here, I discovered I had not properly winterized my home away from home, and the toilet plumbing had sprung a nasty leak, which flooded my humble abode while I was outside primping and pruning, pulling out all the awnings and breathing deep the forest pine-scented air.  So, my trip essentially started with emergency water valve location identification education and soaking up all the toilet water that was seeping into every nook and cranny.  Plumber’s putty didn’t stop the gusher, so off the valve went on the toilet, which is now being flushed with a bowl of water from the kitchen sink as the faucet in the bathroom is also leaking.  Ugh.  Not the kind of energy I was hoping to experience here.  But I am camping, so okay.

One of the reasons I thought to get away from it all is to find quiet meditative inspiration, or at least a clue to what my life should become.  My professional life is at a crossroads, as is my personal life and love life.  In fact, I think I am on the brink of total destruction and chaos and possible annihilation.

On my third day, unable to find any form of peace, I knew a storm was rolling in.  There were sever thunderstorm and wind warnings all over the region, and I new it would be coming straight through the forest where I was managing to flush my toilet manually.

Sure enough, just after dark, I saw flashes of light in the distance and the wind picked up, swaying the trees quite strongly, back and forth. As the flashes became brighter, I could hear the thunder following them in their requisite number of seconds later, giving me a general idea how long it would be until I would be right under it in my steel plated camper with the antennae fully extended.  I cranked it down, just in case, even though I kinda’ wanted to leave it up.

I decided to turn off the TV and all the lights and experience the storm fully from my fairly well protected bed, my dog, Angel, lying at my feet.  I closed my eyes and felt the storm coming closer and closer, and could now feel the rumbling of the thunder and the sway of the trailer from the heavy winds.  I could also see the flashes of light through my closed eyes and tingled with anticipation of the bang that followed, not knowing if one of them might be from a tree falling on me, or the possibility of a direct lightening strike.  I was hoping that in this unusually intense but meditative state, I would here an inner voice speak to me, have some brilliant insight as to how to get myself out of the mess I find myself in or at least find the hidden answer to one of my thousand questions.  All I found was myself waking up at 8:30 the next morning, not the least bit refreshed.

Jesus, day 4, and I am worse off then when I started on my peace mission.  Depression, cold weather, Angel looking at me with his big chocolate pudding colored eyes longing for me to be happy enough to take him out for a walk.  I mustered the energy to take him out for a walk with my first cup of coffee, and crossed paths with a distinguished looking gentleman walking his very fat and fluffy dog, wearing a suit coat and also carrying a cup of coffee.  We exchanged a few colorful words about the weather and continued on in our opposite directions.

I returned to the trailer as lost as I could be when I received a txt message from a quasi friend who announced that his cancer had returned with a vengeance and his doctor gave him no more than two years to live.  I should have felt bad for him.  Any normal person would have.  But I didn’t.  I felt jealous and envious.  I knew I was in trouble.  

Just then, when putting my purse in the overhead storage, I saw a CD that a friend mailed to me last year.  My friend, Fran McKendree.  I met him many years ago when I first moved to Asheville, and we recently re-connected via Facebook and have had some very beautiful exchanges.  He had emailed me a song he wrote, and I told him how beautiful I thought it was.  The soon after mailed me his CD, and I put it in my trailer last year and didn’t get around to listening to it at that time.  But now it caught my eye and my full attention.  The title of the CD is “Awake”.  I put it in my disc player and laid on the sofa with a blanket over me.  The music was beautiful, filled with songs about God and Jesus.  It was a little bit like being in Church as some of the songs I recognized from going to Mass years back.

As I laid there, I was hoping maybe from Fran’s beautiful music I could connected with something outside or inside myself that would lend itself to feelings of peace and tranquility, but despite the beauty of the melodies and spiritual nature of the lyrics, I was not connect to any of it.  Even as I gazed out the windows up into the swaying trees and the blue sky and white clouds passing by, which was by all accounts as beautiful as the music I was listening to, nothing.  Not until the end of the disc.  There was a song that was not sung, but spoken by Fran about fire, and how there has to be empty space between the wood for the fire to burn, and that all we need to do is put an occasional piece of wood on the fire for it to continue to burn.

That was it! That was the answer and guidance I was looking for.  An old lesson that I had somehow forgotten.  It is not up to me to get me out of this mess.  It is up to God.

All I have to do is to do the next right thing…put an occasional log on the fire.  I have lived this experience profoundly so many times in the past, I can hardly believe that I forgot the many lessons I have already learned about it. My life is none of my business. I had forgotten.  No wonder I felt so utterly powerless.  That is because I am.  And to fight against that is like not only exhausting, but terrifying to the point of paralysis.

As I draw a deep breath of relief into my lungs and listen to my fingers type my words automatically as I think them (so amazing and magical when you think about it), my thoughts go to one place…God.  Okay, two places: God and my stomach, which is hungry.  It is close to 7pm now, and I will do my best to re-member who and what I am, and let go of it.  All of it.  It is when I let go of all things that magic starts to happen. Providence takes place of self-will, and I am able to experience serenity and tranquility in the midst of chaos and uncertainty. And that is a place I wish to live.  Peace lives there.

God’s will, not mine, be done.

Amen

PS: Thank you, Fran, for your ongoing inspiration.

If I Were President

I hadn't even finished my first cup of coffee while scanning through some recent FaceBook posts, and one caught my attention.  I found myself responding to the posed question with a vehemence that I made myself stop, lest I anger my 3400 friends and found myself walking on eggshells as I left my office to retrieve my second cup of coffee knowing that a powerful blog was coming on.

The question was posed by a radio talk-show host named Matt Mittan, who broadcasts from Asheville, NC, and he often posts questions to his FB friends about current topics for their thoughts.  This morning he posted this question:  The Gov. of PA said that we are becoming a nation of wusses after the NFL suspended the game there this weekend, due to the major snow storm. Thoughts?


My response was instant and without need for thought.  My reply:  We're becoming a nation of wusses in so many ways...this is only a microcosm of the overall mentality of much of the American population. A bunch of babies wanting their bottles and blankies. I say get off your asses and get to work, whether it is playing a game in the snow for a gazillion dollars, or flipping burgers for minimum wage...which I have done and would do again if I needed to. I see 'help wanted' signs all over the place, but because they are not good enough...ugh. People need to change if we are to regain any self respect and return to the great nation we used to be...one of pride and hard work and individual responsibility. We never sucked our thumbs because of snow before. Maybe the NFL should end and take those burger-flipping jobs. Yes, a nation of wusses. I couldn't say it better myself.  


I wanted to go on and on, but realized I would be going off topic, ever so slightly, and knew I'd catch hell from my own primarily Liberal base, who get angry if I post that I ate a lamb chop rather than some disgusting tofu blob.  I can't even talk about the weather on FB without causing some 'global warming' fight to break out on my own page, when I never even brought up "that" subject.  From "Wow, it's really cold outside", you can't believe the war that breaks out!  Sometimes ridiculous and generally entertaining, these threads are extremely educational to read as it clearly indicates the mindsets of the people who surround me, every single day.


A nation of wusses.  Ugh.  What happened to us?  When I was a teenager just out of high-school, I did not go on to college for many reasons.  I moved out of my parents house and worked three minimum wage jobs to pay rent, and the bills that I had.  I never once complained about the work I did, or the fact that I had to do it to survive except for the occasional "my feet really hurt", and my Granny would rub them for me.  I was brought up to be self-reliant, responsible, hard-working and proud.  I have never paid a bill late...not one single time.  I have never lived beyond my means and have worked hard for every dime I have ever made.  


I moved to Asheville, NC 16 years ago without a nickel in my pocket, virtually zero possessions (except my cat and my car) and knew nobody.  I pounded the pavement and built a business out of blood, sweat and tears that now earns over $1,000,000.00 a year and employes some 40-50 people, and I have not had to lay a single one off or cut a dollar from their wages through this incredibly stressed economy.  I had to use my entire savings to keep it afloat, but I did it, and am proud that my business survived.  I did what I had to do, rather than cut and run, even though it left me broke.  That is pride.  And if God sees fit, I will rebound through continued hard work and determination.  Many words describe me, but "wuss" is not one of them.


A nation of wusses. (side note: A friend of mine just told me that the Gov. of PA "went off" for about 45 minutes talking about all of this...I am excited to read the transcripts of his speech.  I have a feeling I will be in complete agreement).


A nation of wusses.  This profound truth has been bothering me so much.  I returned from Florida the day after Christmas after visiting with my Papa, who was a WWII POW, and a man who I consider a hero.  Brave, honorable, hard-working until he could work no more, and never a complaint.  He is 92 and reaching the end of his days.  I am glad he does not watch the news as he would be deeply ashamed of the decedents of the people he defended and sacrificed for in 1944.


My trip back was without radio or any music so that I could have the opportunity to meditate, think, ponder and fantasize about a world that is better than the one I now find myself in.  This free-flowing thought brought me to a self-imposed question "What would I do if I were President of the United States?  What would I change, how would I change it, and how would I express myself to the American public my philosophy and plans to restore our great nation?"  


Before I knew it, I was making a speech to the entire country.  It was obviously not written, but spoken from my mind, my heart and my soul.  It all made perfect sense to me and covered all the important topics that are plaguing our country and its people.  I will recount it here.  Perhaps it will reach the eyes and ears of someone who will be able to hear it.


TO THE PEOPLE OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA


First, please turn off these TelePrompTers.  I do not have any desire to speak words that have been written for me.  I believe a man or woman is only as good as their own word, and mine will come from me only, not from a speech-writer.  I may fumble a few words here or there, but what you see is what you'll get.  Whenever I speak with you, it will be words of integrity, first and foremost.  I will not sugar-coat the issues, nor will I worry about being 'politically correct'.  If your feelings get hurt along the way, so be it.  Get over it.  


What I do care about is the truth and finding solutions to the myriad problems that has turned a country that I am so lucky to have been born in, and so proud to represent into a country of wimps and babies and people who think they are entitled to anything and everything.  This is the wrong path, and it will lead to the demise of our country and to your own demise, not to mention the destruction of any self-respect you may have left.


I wish to share with you my thoughts on each important issue that continues to eat away at our country and how I would correct them.  Some of you will agree, and some will not.  But those who don't are probably part of the problem, and serious self-reflection is strongly recommended if we are to get anywhere.


THE ECONOMY:  I own a small business.  I did not go to college to figure out how to start it, run it or have it be successful.  The rules are elementary...make more than you spend.  It is simple math.  I learned it in First or Second grade.  Addition and subtraction.  If you made it through elementary school, you have these skills.  We all do.  These simple skills must be applied to our National economy.  The current administration would love to run their business by figuring out how much they want to spend, and then charge you for it accordingly.  As far as businesses go, it is my own experience that this is completely backwards.  One must find out what income to reasonably expect, then set one's budget accordingly.  Here the question is what is a reasonable income (tax) expectation. 


It has been proven over and over again that the lower taxes are, the stronger the economy becomes.  If I have lots of money, I spend lots of money.  If I don't, I stop spending.  More simple math.  Obama surely wanted to end Bush tax cuts effective in a few days, but fortunately the Republicans put the breaks on that move.  I find it interesting that now Obama is now taking some kind of 'credit' for this move when he had nothing to do with it.  But I digress.


First, what we need to do is cut taxes across the board.  And even more so for the wealthiest Americans and small businesses.  They are the ones that spend the most, create the most private sector jobs and produce the most tax revenue for the government, even with significant cuts.


Second, we need to cut spending severely.  No more free rides for able-bodied citizens.  Period.  No more pork-barrel spending.  No more big government, lavish trips for heads of state to far off places on the people's dime, no more Czars to control entities that are none of their business.  No more government bail-outs or stimulus packages...basically no more spending outside the absolute necessities that are required to make our country safely function.  This includes keeping our military strong, our elderly and disabled cared for and our constitutional laws enforced.  All other government programs would go by the way-side and become privatized if we want them to continue.


It is not the government's job to educate you, to feed you, to control you or to coddle you.  This is your responsibility.  It is our responsibility as individuals.  What we have, we work for.  When one of our neighbors are in need, we help where we can.  But our neighbors must also learn to be responsible for themselves, and take whatever steps are necessary to become so.


HEALTHCARE:  First, take responsibility for your health and well-being.  Quit smoking, quit eating junk food, exercise and eat as healthily as you possibly can.  Supplement your diet with multi-vitamins and minerals, essential fatty acids, digestive enzymes and pro-biotics. Just these steps will probably prevent you from becoming sick in the first place.


Regarding health insurance coverage, it is unconstitutional to force individuals to purchase it.  But there are measures that must be taken to make it affordable to those who want it and need it.  TORT reform.  Elimination of medical malpractice suits is mandatory if we are to make insurance companies lower their premiums.  Additionally, insurance companies are 'for profit' businesses.  This is fine.  But not from denial of coverage to people with pre-existing conditions.  I would encourage that new non-profit insurance companies form to compete with the 'for-profit' companies.  This competition would bring rates down even further the way healthy competition always does.


IMMIGRATION:  It is clear that millions of people from around the world want to be citizens of this great country.  I would want to be too.  But there are laws and processes that need to be enforced and reenforced.  I would start by making immigration requirements more specific to our country.  Before one could even apply to become a legal resident of the U.S., they should be required to speak fluent English.  The business I own is a school, and we are approved to accept foreign students with a Student Visa provided they pass an English language proficiency exam first.  The same should apply to anyone wanting to live in this country.  These individuals should uphold the laws and values of the United States, and live our way of life, and not expect special treatment, entitlements, multi-lingual signage, etc.  If you want to be an American, you must become one.  


For the illegal immigrants that are already here because we failed to enforce our own laws, we should provide immigration process offices across the country and give these people the opportunity to apply for American citizenship.  The rules should include sufficient language skills, absolutely no criminal record, and proof that they can take care of themselves financially in every respect, or be sponsored by an American family or business.  They should be required to pay taxes like everyone else and will receive the same protections and benefits that all American citizens receive.  But nothing more.  If these simple requirements are not met, they should be sent back to their homeland until they can meet them.


For anyone outside the United States that wish to become American Citizens, the same rules apply before one can enter this country.  And our own laws should be strictly enforced from this point forward on all U.S. borders.


MILITARY:  I love our men and women in service.  I thank them every day.  My father and grandfather were both in the service and I have nothing but respect for them.  Their sacrifices are great and ongoing, even decades after their service for our country.  I know many veterans who have scars so deep, they will never recover, and are treated by the VA like societal rejects rather than the heros they truly are.  Our government should spare no expense in caring for members of our military, past and present, and they should receive nothing but honor and high-quality care for their service.


As far as our military policing the world, I'd like to see an appropriate percentage of them return to our homeland and secure our borders.  And in areas that present danger to our country, our military should remain deployed and active so long as the treat exists.  But it must be a real threat, not a smoke-screen for an oil cache or some other ulterior motive.  Our Generals and foot soldiers should be held equally to the highest standards as should our Commander in Chief.  Our president should always live up to this honored title.  And if he or she cannot do so with the utmost integrity, he or she should be immediately replaced by someone who can.  I am fully aware that there are powers that are far greater than that of our President, but there will be no more 'wink-wink, knod-knod, Bob's your Uncle" shenanigans anymore.  Behind closed doors deals will be a thing of the past, and government contracts will be granted based on quality and bid pricing, and nothing more.  And it will all be transparent provided it does not compromise national security.


Our military will receive everything they need to do their job in the safest and most effective manner, using the most progressive technologies available.


EDUCATION:  This government social program should be made private again.  Our government program continues to degrade and costs tax-payers a fortune.  You may think that public schools are free, but you are incorrect.  You and I pay for them every day.  To bring quality back into our schools, they should become private entities once again.  Much higher quality will naturally return as each school vies for as many students as possible, and tuition will remain low with the level of competition they will have to contend with.  And with the tax cuts everyone will receive from not having to pay for this government program anymore, families will be able to pay for their children to go to the school of their choosing.  School curriculums will no longer be mandated and they can choose to include specialty curriculums for students who show strengths in various areas, be it sciences, the arts, mathematics, etc.  While teaching the basics, students will have the opportunity and support to excel within their natural strengths from the start, and remain much more interested in education than being forced to study outside their natural interests.  They will be much more likely to continue with higher education later on, and become experts in their chosen fields with a foundation that started with Kindergarden rather than in college.


PRISON SYSTEM:  This system is broken in so many ways.  First, it costs a fortune to provide room and board to people who have broken the law.  And we pay for this.  Second, it does not address the reasons these people have broken the law to begin with.  It is a fact that the majority of inmates are there because the laws they broke were directly or indirectly a result of substance abuse, whether it be drugs or alcohol.  While may prisons offer AA and/or NA meetings within their walls, many do not participate or understand how these substances played a role in their actions.


There needs to be effective rehabilitative services within our prison system so that individuals who have served their time have the ability to function as productive, healthy individuals when they re-enter society.  Without such programs and support, these individuals will come out angry and bitter and become repeat offenders in no time, ultimately ending up back in the prison system.  Some make a life of it knowing they will have food, shelter and medical care inside.  For them, it is the easier way of life as they have no other options or support.


I suggest that these program can be administered through a fully voluntary program.  There are many retirees that have much time and wisdom to share, and while I know plenty of them who take substance abuse meetings into the prisons, there are so many more who would likely volunteer mentoring/sponsoring programs if they were available.  It would cost tax-payers nothing, and provide a much needed resource that would reduce the number of re-offenders and give these individuals a leg to stand on once they are released.


There are many more issues that need to be addressed and corrected if we are to find our way back to being a great country.  These are, of course, the major issues at hand, and my thoughts about how they would be best corrected.  If you are interested in hearing how I would handle any other issue, certainly ask.  If I do not know the answer, I will tell you so, and then I will look for a solution.  I will never make anything up just to satisfy any person.  But I will tell you the truth, as I see it, and always look for the best possible solution to any problem.


God bless us all, including the Governor of Pennsylvania (whom I look very much forward to learning more about) and may we none be wusses anymore.


Peggy

It's Not BP's Fault, It's Ours.

A few days ago, a friend posed the following question.  I felt strongly inclined to answer because I had something to say on the matter that I haven't heard anyone else say. Her question was specifically addressed to her more "conservative" friends: "How would less regulation of business/free market forces address this oil rig crisis or would it have prevented it?"


My answer: As one of your more conservative friends, I could not resist the invitation to communicate my thoughts on this subject. 
As a conservative, I have a core belief that the more freedom we have as human beings (less regulations, the smallest possible government, the freedom to choose our path and make as little or as much money as we desire without being enabled or punished, respectively), the more responsible we become as individuals, and the more we care about what happens around us.

There have been many examples in history where rules/regulations never came into question, and we, as humans, stepped up and did the right thing. It is our nature to help and protect one another, especially in crisis, be it natural disaster or one brought upon by humans. From Valdese to Katrina, Haiti to the failed BP platform, we as humans are all responsible, and without fail, we have gone to extremes to take care of one another and as much of nature as we humanly can. It is our nature, love. We need no government to dictate our nature.

The fact is that we all continue to rely on oil, for travel, and just about every product we purchase, right down to the plastic wrap. Yet we cry foul play when a mistake happens like it has with BP and seek to punish them and the industry as a whole because our white sandy beaches are now becoming polluted and our wildlife is suffering. Suffering too are other industries, like travel/tourism that rely on visitors to vacation at those white sandy locations, the seafood industry because they can not fish the damaged waters, so hundreds of Red Lobster restaurants are in short supply around the world...or maybe they will just pay a little more and get it from somewhere else. Of course, they will charge their patrons more as well.

I'm sure the ripple affect is as great as a tsunami, when it comes right down to it, but I say this: Nothing in God's world happens by mistake. Nothing. Sometimes extreme events are necessary to wake individuals up. It melts political and religious divides, and we become closer to who we are meant to be...connected souls, all. We will always do the right thing and make the right choices if left to our own devices. Except for the sick few among us, there is not a person on this planet, including every single employee at BP who wanted to cause this damage. And if these individuals could have personally prevented it, I guarantee you, they would have.

Geeez...I really want to stay focused to your question of regulation, but continue to be pulled into the bigger picture around your question...sorry... (always been a big-picture girl) Let me see if I can boil it down...

First, human beings, when they are being who they really are, do not require rules/regulations to do the right thing. We know what it is, always. That is why we have a conscious, and everyone rallies when there is disaster that is bigger than our government. If we had a smaller government, it would take smaller and smaller events for us to step up and do what is necessary, in any event. Reliance on government has made us lazy as a whole, and allowed our conscious to become dormant. Sometimes we have to be slapped upside the head to wake up.

Second, we continue to have these wake up calls, yet nothing to date has been strong enough for us as individuals to change our lifestyles, or products, or fuel sources. Selfishness exists in every one of us. We all want our gas, our tires, and so on. And that is because we rely on the government to take care of us. It is a false security, if ever there was one. No rules or regulations will make us any more secure. It will just continue to give us a false sense of security and keep us asleep.

Third, the government could take over the US oil industry and "own" it, just as they are working on with the auto industry, the banking industry, and the health care industry, but that will never improve quality. It will only only degrade it. There are no examples in history where government take-overs have been successful and/or healthy for more than a minute, and so many examples where it has been tragically destructive. And that is all Regulations are...a form of ownership.

I think it will take much more than the BP accident to change who we are, and the bigger the government, the longer it will take. It is possible that it will take running out of oil completely and the complete implosion of our government to wake us up and make us whole again...human beings, wide awake, in all our power, strength and glory. Whatever it takes, I look forward to it.

Until then, each and every one of us is responsible for everything that happens. And no government regulations will change that fact, let alone prevent these 'slap-up-side-the-head' events. They will happen, regardless. They need to. They are intended to wake us up. 

Ugh...big picture again...very big.

It Was The Remote

It's been a couple of months.  A friend asked me when I was going to write again, and I told him I would do so when I felt inspired once again by something I considered to be important, if not a personally profound.  During my conversation with him, he reminded me a a very funny moment in our deep past which lead to the content of my current blog entry.  This entry.

As many of you know, I work in the holistic health industry, and have for many years.  This means that many of my close associates and friends are holistically centered, and sport bumper stickers that say things like PEACE ON EARTH, INTEGRATE (all in letters designed to look like a bunch of religious symbols), CHOOSE LIFE...all of which I can get behind for the most part, but the one that has always bugged me is KILL YOUR TV.  Seen it for years, hated it for years.

Television has brought me more joy, education and entertainment than any other single thing that I know of.  Is that wrong?  All the way back to the Little Rascals and the Three Stooges, to the Brady Bunch and My Favorite Martian.  I learned all about racial integration...hell, I didn't even know where was such a thing as black people at that tender young age, humor (albeit somewhat violent-but was smart enough to know it was pretend), how to be a part of a perfect family (and still pretty much am) and the possibilities of science fiction becoming a reality as we walked around on the moon, unless you are a conspiracy theorist and think the whole thing was staged.

Later I recognized the shows that provided a window into the civil services...Emergency 51 (remember Johnny Gage-had the biggest crush, although I really liked Dr. Early too...his calm demeanor and higher intelligence) and CHIPS (remember Eric Estrada with those white, white teeth...those were before tooth whitening became a requirement for beauty...and yes I had a crush on him too).

Movies also were a bit life-defining.  The first time I fell in love, I was only maybe 6 or 7 years old, and fell head-over-heals for Tarzan...probably the original Tarzan.  I wanted to be Jane so much that I literally could not sleep at night and would get butterflies in my stomach whenever I thought of that big, strong, protective, handsome beast-of-a-man swooping down through the trees on perfectly placed vines to rescue his Jane, just moments before she was eaten by the fierce lion...who turned out to be Tarzan's personal friend.  Now that's hot.  Still is.  Two kings of the jungle protecting me?  MMMMhhhhmmmmmm!

Later I became interested in more sophisticated programming, like LA Law, NYPD Blue, X-Files, and others.  They provided me with an inside look at our judicial system and government agencies.  Of course, much of it is fabricated entertainment, but I know enough to know the difference.  I learned about the hierarchy that exists within various agencies, protocols, what is okay to speak about and what is best left to one's self.  I learned what is a tolerable norm, and what is considered fringe.  The latter I generally keep to myself as I have had enough experiences that expressing fringe concepts can easily alienate me from my peers, if not scare them the hell away!

Most recently, I have become attracted to shows like Bones and NCIS for their detailed forensic science and crime solving tactics, as well as Dexter for cleaning up the garbage that Bones and NCIS leaves behind.  Vigilante justice still appeals to me, probably after my many John Wayne indoctrinations, way back in my past.

Anyway, I have become so fascinated with these shows that I bought an Apple TV which allows me to purchase entire seasons of whatever shows I like, and watch them all I wish, studying the characters, the processes and protocols, and how some of our systems of government really probably work.  I became so curious about NCIS that I actually purchased 7 full seasons (about 175 1-hour episodes) and watched every one of them within about a week.  Okay...two weeks...but still!  That's about 12 hours of study on the Naval Criminal Investigative Service a day for 14 straight days. Who would ever want to know that much about an organization I have nothing personally to do with?  Me.  If I become interested in something, I learn as much as I can about it, including internet research, and once in a while, books, though I have little time to read with all this TV watching I need to do.

Recently, I am confronted with the fact that none of the characters on NCIS own or watch TV.  They have busy, full lives, and do things like read books and go out with friends.  Totally annoying, considering I am devoting 12 hours a day to watching their show.  Additionally, my niece who is 25 years old recently cancelled her cable service.  What I am witnessing is that she is become much more active in her life...going out and doing yoga, running, socializing, romancing the world in a way I used to do.  Also totally annoying.

That brings me back to that dreadful KILL YOUR TV bumper sticker that I still hate.  How am I to learn about all these amazing careers and their internal structures without applying for a job at a LA Law Firm or the NY Police Department, or the Federal Bureau of Investigation or the Naval Criminal Investigative Services, especially when I've never been in the Navy, not to mention that I have a $3500 SONY Bravia XBR?  How could I kill something so technologically extraordinary and beautiful?

I have to contemplate how much I want to do yoga, read books, socialize, twiddle my thumbs, meditate, etc.  Despite my ridiculously apparent fascination with the boob tube, I maintain my own home by myself, working often 2-3 hours a day outside and maintain my own business, which for all intents and purposes is highly successful.  I feed my dog and cat every day, and eat healthily for the most part.  My mind works faster than most, and it NEVER turns off.  The only way I can stop it from hyperdrive and often whorp-speed is to turn on the TV and focus outside myself and into the minds of other people and organizations.  And it is often the only way I can fall asleep (besides reading, which is too boring to stay awake for).

The whole situation really stinks.  On one hand, I feel like I may be wasting my life away by not doing Yoga, meditating, meeting friends for coffee, blah, blah, blah.  But on the other hand, I grow in intelligence every single day, feel satiated, calm and fulfilled without the aforementioned healthy alternatives.

There is nothing like lying in my incredibly comfortable bed at night (or during the day when I am on a serious mission) next to my dog and cat watching something that challenges my mind, enlightens my soul, and provides me with new ideas and inspiration for future opportunities, real or imagined.  And like my old friend did that day, long, long ago, if I happen to have a bout of bad gas, I can blame it on the remote rather than my dog.

Long live my TV.

Finding The Zone

I was watching a Bones episode the other day, a re-run from 2008 that I had seen before.  It was that season's finale, and towards the end, during a very intense scene where one of the favorite characters was confessing to being an apprentice to a serial-killer/cannibal, and describing where he could be found, the scene was feathered with the visuals of the apprehension and ultimate death of the bad guy by the FBI.  And while all this was intensely emotional and graphic crescendo was happening, there was incredibly beautiful background music being juxtaposed to the graphic violence, sadness, shock and truly disturbing knowledge that this favorite character was obviously being written off the show.

I had the show on my DVR, and kept repeating the final act because it was so powerful.  I probably watched it a half-dozen times when I realized that what was making it so powerful was the music being played in the background. (As a side note, any film that Thomas Newman wrote the score for is powerful in this same way.  I think I own all of his scores, and probably the films as well).  Anyway, I got out my iPhone and tried repeatedly to Shazam the music (an application that records a snippet of music and will tell you who it is, when it was recorded, etc., and provide links to iTunes so you can purchase it if you wish).  The voice over in the scene was making it hard to capture any of the pure music, and I thought I wouldn't be able to figure it out, but then, towards the end of the scene, the dialog went silent and there was just the music.  This beautiful, haunting music, and Shazam gave me what I was looking for.  Aerial Boundaries by Michael Hedges, circa 1984.

I, of course, instantly purchased the entire album on iTunes, as well as a couple of his other albums, and couldn't wait to have a closer listen.  I Wiki'd him and learned that he was killed in a car crash in 1997, which made me even more enthralled with his work, and posted something about this piece of music on my FaceBook page.

A friend responded and said something about him playing this music on one guitar in several tunings with no overdub.  I wasn't sure what that meant, but replied that I would like to have seen that.  He instantly sent me a link to a recording of Michael Hedges playing Aerial Boundaries while sitting on a park bench.  I watched with rapture as I saw techniques I have never seen before on a guitar.  I am not a guitarist, but have a musical background, so I knew I was watching something extraordinary in his technique.  It literally sounds like 3 or more guitars being played at the same time.  But it is just one masterful artist and one acoustic guitar.

But there was something much more powerful then just the music he was producing as he played, and I felt it when I was watching that Bones scene over and over again.  This guy was altered.  What he was producing was altered.  He was in a zone that has been described in many ways by many people.  From a 'natural high' to 'having a spiritual experience', I don't care what you call it...this guy was altered.  You can not only hear it in the music, but if you watch him play, you can tell he is not existing on our mundane plane.  He is elsewhere, in some god-like space, playing this music from his very soul.  His brain is not even required anymore.  I know.  I have had this experience before.  It happens when you are so good at something and at the same time so passionate about something that your soul just takes over and you are no longer needed.  I believe we become conduits at that point, and we become one with God.

I've had two such experiences before.  The first was in my mid-twenties when I decided that I would become a drummer.  I had purchased a small Tama trap kit, rented out a 10 x 10 storage locker and asked the drummer of my ex-boyfriend's band who I knew gave lessons if he would teach me.  He agreed.  He came once a week and gave me simple lessons, and taught me how to read music for drummers with beginners books.  I went there every single day after work to practice.

After a month of frustration, trying to separate all four of my limbs and get them to do entirely different things at the same time (you think patting your head and rubbing your tummy is hard....), my drums were stolen.  I arrived to nothing but a tuning key lying on the floor.  I was crushed.  I had wondered if it wasn't a sign that it wasn't supposed to be.  But then I realized that I had insured them.  And for quite a bit more than they were worth.  So, when I got the insurance check, I promptly went and bought another kit...this time a Yamaha Custom Power Tour kit in shiny Piano Black with 4 Tom Toms, a full round of Zildian cymbals.  It was massive.  And it was beautiful.  And I needed more space and this time it needed to be secure.  So I rented a 30 x 30 climate controlled space on the upper floor of the same facility where nobody could see me and unless they were ridiculously determined, they could not steal them again.

I continued my lessons every week and practiced every day.  I continued to struggle to separate my limbs and read the music and produce rhythms that made sense and eventually did so with about as much success as I had a s a violinist, which I studied through High School.  I could play decently, carrying a tune, or a beat in this case, but I never made the instrument sing from my soul.  I was always 3rd chair in the orchestra, even after years of playing, and I suspected it would be the same for my drumming career.

Nevertheless, I continued playing, every day, when after about a year, something happened.  I was alone practicing, waiting for my teacher to come.  I was working on some more complex rhythms that involved  breaking into thirds bars that were written in 4/4 time, and involving all of the drums in this massive kit.  I kept going and going, and all of a sudden, I wasn't thinking anymore.  All my limbs seemed to be independent of me, of my brain, of the music I was reading...and I went somewhere else as this music poured through me like waves from an ocean that I could not see.  I was altered.

As I continued from this trance-like state, the door swung open and my teacher walked in.  His eyes got huge and his jaw dropped, and he just stood there.  I stopped playing.  He said to me that he thought I had someone else up here playing my drums.  He said he could teach me no more, that I needed to play with other musicians and turn around and left.  I don't know who was more dumbfounded.

Shortly afterwards, I moved to Europe and never saw my drums again.  I tried to ship them, but some were lost, some damaged, and my life had changed direction.  But I do not regret a moment of this experience.  I found something I may not have found otherwise.  I found a zone, a place that is indescribable and beautiful, and a place where I was not necessary.  I also learned that I could have been a drummer, probably even a famous one.  But I didn't care about that.  What I cared about was the spiritual realm I visited.

The second experience I had was as a massage therapist.  I had been practicing energy work for years before I went for a formal training in Chinese Medicine and massage therapy in the early 90's.  I was naturally good as a massage therapist, and was told from the very start that it was the best work my clients had ever received.  So I felt confident in my technical abilities.  I continued my studies across the country, and one teacher spoke of the work of a therapist become like a dance.  She vaguely described what sounded like the experience I had that day while playing my drums.  She had my full attention as I wanted to return to this place again.  I asked her how long it took her to feel what she was trying to describe, and she said it happened after about 1000 massages.

Ugh.  1000 massages.  First of all, I'll probably never do that many.  Second, I'm sure I can achieve the nirvana I seek way before that.  But the days went on, and I continued to practice.  And my clients loved my work, and continually complimented it, returning again and again.  I new I was good.  My technique combined so many elements, like my limbs all paying different beats at the same time, and my clients loved it.  I was always conscious of my touch, of my client, of my surroundings, of my carefully selected music and my professionalism.  On all accounts, I was an exceptional therapists, and could have continued to thrive in that profession very happily.

Then one day, years into my practice, something happened.  I was at my studio working on a client that I had seen many times.  Everything was the same.  The space, the sounds, the client with the myriad of health problems seeking relief and advise.  But as I worked, something shifted.  I stopped thinking, and I stopped feeling my limbs.  They had once again become detached from my brain.  I knew that I was not in charge anymore.  The words of that instructor from years before rang in my ears like a whisper from God himself.  I was altered.  I kept going and going, and when the session was over, I quietly left the room.

My client came out, not saying a word, but she was altered too.  I could see it in her eyes.  She quietly scheduled another appointment, handed me $50 bucks and left. I quickly got out my calculator to estimate how many sessions I had done up to that date, and there it was...a number very close to 1000.  That teacher was right, and although she described the experience as a 'dance', I knew what she was trying to describe.  And she was right.  I was in 'the zone'.  That beautiful, mystical place where I am not necessary.  A place where I am nothing but a conduit and God flows through me like the music that flows through Michael Hedges in Aerial Boundaries.  His song could have been called "No Boundaries" and been more fitting.

Shortly after that experience, I started my own massage school and had to leave my practice and my clients to run the school. I return to that zone from time to time, usually at my computer in a state of what some might call 'mania' as I pound out a new website, or idea, or plan or vision for the future.  But I know clearly when I am altered, and it is during those times that I know my life is none of my business and I am doing another kind of work.  Work that does not require my brain, but only uses me as a vessel to accomplish something that is beyond my technical abilities.  When I go there, I just let go completely until it is time to return.  Then, after, when I look at it, whatever it is, and know that everything is okay.

Michael Hedges (1954-1997), Aerial Boundaries Video:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4P9mmZyGb4s

Are We God?

How many times have you heard an interview of a victim of a horrible crime, like rape or the murder of a loved one, or some other form of violent attack say "I always knew that would happen."?  Or on a lesser scale, how many times have you hear someone say "I always have the worst luck", or "I never get good service at restaurants" or "My life is always hard", or "I am never going to find a job I love".  Or even to the smallest degree, "I can't lose weight" or "I can't afford to do this or that", or "this pain will never go away'.

Then there are the positive ones like "Everything I touch turns to gold", and I am the luckiest person I know", and "I will have this or that", and the next thing you know, they do!

It is clear, just by their statements, that these are all beliefs.  The question is, however, what ARE beliefs?  Statements of fact?  Yes.  Of course.  These are what the individual experiences in their life, good and bad. But these 'beliefs' have to start from some pivotal, an life-defining moment in our lives if they are long held beliefs, as most of them are.

One of the first experiences I had watching this happen in someone's life was in that of one of my sisters.  She and her husband were planning on building a house somewhere, and she was dead-set on having a "yellow" house.  The looked through hundreds of building plans, and none of them included exterior siding that had yellow as an option.  Not one.  But one day, she put a picture of a yellow house on her refrigerator and repeated "I will have a yellow house'.

Weeks went by, and she and her husband finally settled on a specific house plan, and again, yellow was not an option with the company they were going with, so my sister reluctantly settled for a light cream colored siding.

So, months went by, and the house was built and built and build, and one of the last phases of completion was the installation of the siding.  It had arrived in the light beige color they ordered and was installed.  But something incredible happened after it was up.  When you stood back and looked at it, it was the most beautiful color of butter yellow that you could ever imagine.  I remember her delight, and her saying "See, I told you I would have a yellow house!".

Wow...I was so impressed, and excited by the implications of her experience in my own life.  She told me I had to be very careful in what I asked for, and that I could manifest it, no matter what.  And I knew she was onto something pretty remarkable.  If only I could tap into that same source.

I reflected upon what God might have to do with it, and initially I though "nothing".  But then I remembered an experience I had when I was very young...maybe seven or so.  My grandparents had taken me and my sister to Disneyland in Anaheim, California, just a year or so after it had opened.  It was one of the most magical places I could ever have dreamed of, and I was completely mesmerized by the Magic Castle.  At that time (and maybe still), there was a drawbridge that you had to cross to enter the Magic Castle, and on either side of it was a wishing well, at least that what my Granny told me it was.  She told me that if you threw a coin into it and wished really really hard, that your wish would come true.  I asked to do it right then and Granny handed me a quarter.  I held it tightly in my hand, closed my eyes, and with all the might of a seven year old child, I wished for a bunny rabbit.  It was the grandest and most extravagant wish I could think of for myself.  After a few moments, I opened my eyes, and threw the coin into the fountain with all the hundreds of others that had been tossed in there before mine.  Our Disney adventure continued and I didn't give the wishing well much more thought, if any, that I recall.

Our trip ended, and we all flew back to Michigan where I lived, and something amazing happened.  When I got home, I found that my parents had gotten me a pet rabbit.  Not a stupid stuffed one, but a real, live, furry bunny.  My Dad had build a rabbit hut for it in our back yard and everything.  And I knew that something profoundly miraculous had happened.  I knew that my wish had been literally granted to me, like a genie from a lamp.  I felt it inside me on a soul level and was practically overcome with the knowledge that I had tapped into something extraordinary.  And I knew it was mine.  Everywhere I went, I felt it, and it quickly became something of an invisible friend that I would even talk to, though silently, and I knew with great certainty it could hear me, and I could hear it.

Now, the skeptic in me, and probably even you, would say that I must have told Granny about what I wished for, and she called the folks back home and said "hey, your kid wants a rabbit".  It is quite possible, although I'm almost sure I remember Granny telling me not to tell anybody about what I wished for.  Regardless, I will not discount this as a possibility.  But whatever happened that day produced an outcome that I couldn't have conjured up any other way, and that private friend that I continued my relationship and talks with remains with me to this day.  I now call it God.  Could be George, or Henrietta, or Ichabod Crane, for all I know.  But God feels most fitting, given the nature of the power I experienced on that fateful day as a child.

Over the years, we have danced and argued and bargained and I have even quit our relationship a number of times.  It had all the dynamic of a real relationship with another person, only it was a secret, invisible one.  Once, in my mid-twenties, I even believed that it wasn't real, but only a figure of my overactive imagination.  I told it that I didn't believe in it anymore, and was certain (and terrified) that I was on my own...that everything in my life was my own responsibility and it was over.  That lasted about 2 months.  I remember feeling more alone in the world than I ever had before.  Then one day while I as driving down the road, I said to it "Okay, if you really exist, prove it".  Within seconds I should have been involved in a hideous traffic accident, but instead, I floated through it, in between all the crashes around me, coming inches away from being hit, and went through it like I had some kind of protective shield around me or something.  I am a good driver, but I cannot credit my driving skills with that specific event.  My hands were on the wheel, but I was definitely not driving.  After I came through to the other side, I just said "Okay.' as I felt the hair raise up all over my body.  I haven't questioned its presence in my life since.

The next profound and life-defining moment I had with regard to this power was in 1994.  I was working at a little yoga studio doing massage part time.  I was new to the area and desperate to create income for myself (right after I swore I would never work for anyone ever again), and some of the clients I was drawing were of the unsavory variety...men wanting happy endings which I would never in a million years even consider providing.  One day, I was grumbling about these creepy guys coming in to get a 'massage' to a physiologist that worked where I did, and he told me to simply tell the 'universe' not to send me clients like that anymore, and that it would stop.  So, that day, I told my secret friend rather than the 'universe' to stop sending me those kinds of clients from now on.  And I can say that it never happened again.  Not once.

Further, while still working at this same location, I would sometimes come in with really low energy and not wanting to work, and all my clients would call and cancel.  Conversely, if I had a light schedule and felt full of energy, my schedule would magically fill up.  It happened over and over again, and one day the young lady that worked there at the reception desk exclaimed that she was going to call me PMG, for "Peggy, the Manifesting Goddess".  We giggled wildly, but we both knew I was causing it to happen, and the name PMG stuck.  It's actually part of my corporate name, PMG HealthCom, Inc.

I've often struggled with whether or not this power to manifest comes from within me or from the outside source that I sense, or if they are one in the same, somehow woven together through my soul's connection to everything.  Could it simply be the conviction of my thought processes at the time that brings forth what I ask for, or is there a magic, invisible friend out there somewhere catering to my biggest and smallest whims, depending on my request, argument for bargain of the day?  When I put something out there to the universe, who has time to listen to it and respond with such clarity and certainty, and if there is something listening and responding, how does it seem to care about even the quality of breath I take into my body?  Is it my own personal genie, or a force that listens just as carefully to every single creature on earth with the same care, thoroughness and perfection?  It would have to be inside me somehow, or else how could it, at the same time, manifest my sister's yellow house and stop the creepy clients from coming in and prevent the terrible car accidents from happening while attending to everybody else's requests and prayers and demands?  I don't think that even God can be that great a multi-tasker.

Nonetheless, we continue to dance and argue and bargain, and whatever I ask for, I receive, without exception.  This includes the good, the bad and the very ugly.  My words, thoughts and deeds all work to reflect what I am really asking for, and like my sister told me long ago, I have to be VERY careful about these things.  I can ask for a million dollars, and just as quickly override that thought with another that says "I am so broke!".  Or I can say something like "I will never work for another person EVER again" with such conviction, and have been self-employed ever sense, never having looked back.  I can ask for and manifest the most incredible relationships and completely sabotage it with my own negative thinking before they even have a chance to start.  I have learned that I have absolute freedom of choice in what I ask for, and can actually have anything in the world I want, just by what I say, think and do.

I guess it is not important to know where my power comes from.  What is important is to know that I have it and understand how it works, and use this knowledge to continually refine and adjust the manifestations in my life.  If I don't like how something turned out, I absolutely have the power to change it, simply by asking. I don't even have to know how to make those changes.  They are revealed in the process of getting from here to there.  And sometimes, I am simply transported to wherever I am going, never having seen the processes that got me there.

Yes, there is a God alright.  I'm certain of it.  And maybe I'm it.

The Generosity and Predatory Nature of Strangers

Leave it to me to see the polar opposites in any given situation.  I really cannot help it.  I have good and evil at the same exact degrees in my natal chart, so I can see and am capable of both, believe me, and I can see through motives like nobody's business...especially mine.  But here I am, calling BS on humanitarian efforts all over the world.

There's nothing like a natural or a national disaster to bring out the best and the worst in people.  Most people see only the best, but they do not have the inner evil that I have to be able to see it for what it often is...an opportunity.  And opportunity to feel better about ourselves, an opportunity to promote our selves, an opportunity to capitalize for ourselves, an opportunity to martyr ourselves, an opportunity to pump up our egos, an opportunity to be heros...  But isn't all of this a function of our egos?  Who does anything good quietly?  Not very many people.  Certainly not me.  Every time I've ever done something for someone else, I've ALWAYS eventually told someone I did it.  It's disgusting.  It disgusts me.  I disgust myself.  Seriously.

Just today, someone offered a chunk of money to me as a donation to offer my students as a scholarship. This person is a complete stranger on FaceBook.  I didn't solicit this money.  They offered it via private email message.  I didn't see any post from them saying "Hey!  Look at me!  I did something good!  I'm fabulous!  I'm worthy!  Everybody love me!".  Nothing.  Not a peep.  Not me though. I couldn't wait a millisecond to post something on my FB page that said "Hey!  Look at me!  Someone gave me something!  I'm fabulous!  I'm worthy!  Everybody love me!".  It's disgusting.  I could seriously vomit over my own ego's audacity.  And worse, even as I write this, my post is still there, just sitting there, hoping to draw another breath of self-worth into my old and tired soul.

Then there's Haiti.  I've never seen so many fund-raisers in my life.  Every Tom, Dick and Harry is coming out with every version of fund-raising schemes (and scams) imaginable.  From concerts to events at thousands of businesses around the community, all I see is self-permotion and hidden agendas.  Egos galore from the famous to the infamous and the unknown, all wanting to help (themselves) in the name of humanitarian efforts.  Opportunistic predators of the worst kind...the kind that uses the death and devastation of others to promote themselves in some way, even if it is a simple post on FB saying "I gave".

There are real heros out there.  People who don't need to tell people that they are giving, that they are fabulous or worthy or need to solicit love.  They are the quiet ones that send an anonymous cash contribution, or that lend a hand without having to say who they are or what they stand for.  Their quiet actions continually fill their hearts and souls with everything they need to feel whole.  They don't require write-ups in the paper or medals of honor or anyone to acknowledge them or praise them.  These people are the humble among us.  And they are impossible to spot because they never advertise themselves.  They walk among us as invisible agents of God or the universe or just by chance, and if they are lucky, we will never know them.

I guess if getting the job done requires the stroking of countless egos (like mine), then it is worth it in the end.  People are ultimately helped on the physical plane. The folks in Haiti will have water to drink and food to eat, and eventually their country will be rebuilt.  And the folks who promoted the fund-raisers will have a little more notoriety and popularity. Some will profit from the disaster-thons, and some will even become wealthy as a result of their 'efforts'.  But at what cost?

What happens to my soul every time I hide a bad motive behind a good one?  Does it become more and more degraded?  It feels like it in this body.  Maybe that's where the nausea comes from when I post my "look at me" messages on FB...my body's attempt to expel the damage I am doing to my soul when I act from ego.  I have no proof, but I suspect that my soul will need all the strength it can muster to cross over to the next place.  It makes sense that our soul is energy, and if depleted enough, it won't go anywhere.  Maybe that is what 'hell' really is...being stuck here because we don't have enough fuel to leave.

I am going to make a greater effort to be quiet in my efforts, whatever they may be....right after I publish my new blog.