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.

Truth Is Over Rated.

I heard a line in a film last night that said "The truth requires responsibility.  That's why nobody wants it."

When I heard it, my first response was that it was incorrect, that I always want the truth.  But pondering my proclamation, I realized that response wasn't the truth at all!  I greatly prefer fantasy to reality, in all its forms.  Always have, always will.

The truth is that I am always suffering.  Sometimes it is subtle and sometimes it requires medication.  But it is always there, always present, under all the smiles and costumes and ridiculous material disguises.  My ability to put a happy face on any situation and call it a spiritual experience is a remarkable coping mechanism that I learned over the years, really from the time I was very young.  Nobody taught it to me.  I didn't learn it in church or through any groups or organizations I have involved myself in.  But it is profoundly effective in helping me to survive day after day, and it actually brings me peace in the middle of  any form of fear or pain I find myself in.

If I look at the truth of my life today, I can launch a full-blown panic attack in about a minute and a half. My business has been struggling to survive for over a year, I have not had enough income to pay myself a salary, so I have been working my ass off for free for over a year now.  I have had to invest my savings in my business to be able to continue to pay the folks that work for me and not have to lay them off, my health needs much to be desired, and my love life is precarious at best.  I have distanced myself from family and friends, given away my pets, stopped watching the news because it is all so incredibly disturbing, and have actually enjoyed watching TV shows like "Seven Signs of the Apocalypse" and "2012, The End Is Near", and "Life After People".  Twenty-twelve...it isn't that far away.  I try to visualize what might happen on December 21, 2012 with a sense of wonderment and a suggestion of relief.  I wouldn't say I am suicidal or morbid, but complete oblivion certainly has its appeal.

But if I look at my life from a spiritual perspective, I can find things to mask my discontent, like gratitude, hope, charity, compassion...all tools that allow me to believe that my life is none of my business, and that there is some greater being, greater force that is in charge of it all.  It allows me to act as if I am happy about the state of my world or the state of The world.  It lays a delicate vail over my eyes and softens the edges of all I see and know, making being alive tolerable, and sometimes even enjoyable.  It seems to take the ever-increasing load off my shoulders and allows me to reside in denial for just a little while so that I can catch my breath and gear up for the next dose of truth, whatever it may be.

I'd prefer that my spiritual perspective was always present, but it requires exercising a part of my brain on a continual basis, and resting another part of it.  Unfortunately, I enjoy using the part of my brain that engages in linear thought, rational, intellectual, conceptual, philosophical, etc.  And it seems that when I am fully engaged, I don't remember the spiritual, or maybe it isn't possible to be in both at the same time. It occurs to me that if it were possible, I'd reside there all the time, automatically, because it is so much more pleasant.  So, I suspect that it requires conscious effort to maintain a spiritual condition.

Regardless, I have found that living in 'truth' is not necessary to function effectively or efficiently, and in fact, it may be counterproductive. Truth is painful more often than not.  And the truth remains the truth whether you are acutely aware of it or comfortably numbed by some form of denial, whether it is the belief that God or some greater being is in charge of it all, or medication that relieves our belief that it is all our responsibility.  If we can find a way to see just enough to do the next right thing and not be crippled by the magnitude of our reality or our truth, then maybe we can survive and actually experience joy in the moment, and if we can find a way to do the next right thing, maybe our Truth will change.

The Yin and Yang of Relationships

No matter who we are, we seek balance in all aspects of our lives.  On a physiological level, our bodies are in a constant quest to achieve homeostasis, or physical balance and health.  When we are broke financially, we try to figure out how to make more money, just as when we are in abundance, we look for ways to spend.  When we are tired, we sleep, and when we are full of energy, we find ways to expel it.  Always balancing, always adjusting, always changing in some large or small way to come back into balance when we lean to far one way or the other.

But what happens when we find ourselves in relationship with another human being that is also juggling their own balancing act?  And how does that affect our own?  Well, I have a theory that has proven to be true, or at least worth continuing to explore in my own life.  It is a Yin/Yang-based theory.  For those who might not be familiar with Yin and Yang, in traditional Eastern philosophy, they represent Moon and Sun, or dark and light, or for the purpose of this discussion, feminine and masculine.

On my own and without a 'romantic' relationship, I find myself very balanced in feminine and masculine energy and activities.  I find myself managing and maintaining tasks that are traditionally masculine in nature, from taking out the trash (really hate it, but probably no more than men do) and a myriad of home repairs to taking on the responsibilities of running a decent sized business and having to interact primarily with men in negotiating, maneuvering, outwitting competition, handling legal and accounting details and having to make intellectual decisions for the good of the business rather than emotional ones.  As a woman, I find these tasks challenging, but they have become easier over the years because I have been solely responsible for them.

I also tend to my feminine side as a 'homemaker', and take pride in my soft surroundings, plush furnishings and enjoy being in the kitchen creating mostly experimental meals that for the most part come out really delicious.  My feminine side is filled with flowers and rainbows and plants and sweet animals that are also beautiful and soft.  I love to giggle and play, and delight in sugar and spice and everything nice.

Finding time for everything in my life is its own balancing act as the demands of both aspects are ever present and pressing, but each day I manage it all, and at the end of the day I don't feel like a woman or a man, but often the superhero of my own realm.  Exhaustion is common after balancing it all, but balance I always manage to find.

For all intents and purposes, when I balance it all on my own, this superhero feels pretty a-sexual, though there is always a pull towards the feminine, because I am after all, a woman.  But I find myself wearing clothing that is not particularly gender-leaning.  Jeans and a T-shirt, you bet.  Sweats, great!  At home you will generally find me in bizarre combinations of sleep-pants with pink hearts on them along with a dark green John Deere sweat-shirt with oil stains on it from the garage, and my hair in some crazy hair-do after I pin it up just to get it out of my way, or maybe a silk gown over top work boots and my hair down and beautiful.  One never knows.  I certainly never do from one day to the next.  But it is a clear indication that I am balancing two distinct and separate energies, and as goofy as I probably look, I don't really care.  Nobody is here to see me except my dog and cat who couldn't care less, and nobody comes over unannounced, EVER (so don't even think about it).

When I go out, that's a little different, though if you look closely, you may see evidence of what I am talking about in the way I dress and present myself.  A brilliant combination of softness and strength.  Men stare, women glare and most of the time, nobody talks to me because they don't know how to approach me.  After a rare person gets to know the 'real' me, they often tell me that they thought I was intimidating, or a bitch, or stuck-up, or my favorite combination "an intimidating stuck-up bitch".  All this interpretation with my never having uttered a single word.  So, it is either my clothing or the strength of my balance they sense.  Or maybe it is both.  Who the hell knows.

But this I do know:  When I enter a romantic relationship, everything shifts inside and out.  I'm not talking about feelings of love or being in-love.  I'm talking about something else.  I'm talking about my inner Yin/Yang balance.  And the degree to which this shift occurs is directly proportionate to the balance of the man I enter relationship with.  I am still seeking balance whether I am aware of it or not.  And I can see evidence of this shift by how my preferences change from my attire to what I feel more drawn to and more capable of.  The exception to this rule is if the person I enter relationship is as Yin/Yang balanced as I am, and then pretty much nothing changes, and we usually end up best friends rather than romantic partners.

But when the man I am in relationship with is strongly masculine (always my preference), I am allowed to energetically become more feminine.  In fact, I must in order to find balance within the relationship.  I notice my appearance changes dramatically and becomes much more feminine (flowery dresses, silky lingerie, more jewelry, more make-up, etc.)  I prefer to be domestic more than business oriented and I prefer to plant flowers and fill my home with them then to cut the grass with my tractor (yes, it's a John Deere). I become absolute opposed to taking out the trash or having to deal with snips and snails and the like.  You'll find me barefoot in the kitchen or in a bubble bath or making a spa appointment for a pedicure and manicure when a quick sandwich, a shower and old rusty nail clippers used to satisfy.  These are not planned changes, they are automatic.  Energetic homeostasis.  The balance of Yin and Yang between two people.  Men are the protectors, the providers, the warriors...it is masculine nature, while women are the nurturers, pamperers, care-takers...all feminine in nature.

I'm sure there are a bunch of feminists out there who are ready to ring my neck right about now, but I don't care.  I think their Yin/Yang balance is a little skewed towards the masculine myself, but that is just my opinion.  Regardless. this automatic change is something I have witnessed in myself over and over again to some degree.

An example of how a more feminine man affects me is just as dramatic.  I dated a fellow several years ago who was sweet, kind, intelligent, owned his own business, flew a private plane, took me to the finest restaurants an was by all accounts a perfect gentleman.  But one day, we were in a lovely park together, and a strong breeze started to blow the cool air on us, and he cozied up behind me, put his head on my shoulder (he was an inch or so shorter than me which is also not something I am really comfortable with for all these same reasons) and asked me to protect him from the cold wind.

Aahhhhemmmmm...deal breaker.  He immediately put me in the masculine role, and I immediately and literally felt nauseous.  All I could think of was "Get your little head off my shoulder and act like a man!".  I couldn't help it.  I didn't say it out loud because I didn't want to be hurtful, but there it was.  His femininity became like a repelling magnet when turned the wrong way.  There was no way around it.  It was the last time I saw him.  I learned that I can become more feminine, naturally, but not more masculine.  It wasn't possible.  I could stay balanced alone or become more feminine with a more masculine man.  And the more masculine he is, the better for me.

There are many wonderful men out there who have highly developed feminine sides to them, and I adore them as friends.  I love spending time with them, having delightful and often deep conversations with them, but I am never romantically attracted to them.  I have to honor that truth if I am to continue to find the balance I am always adjusting to maintain within myself.  I'd rather a host of friends and remain balanced and without a romantic partner than be involved and out of balance with someone.  That relationship would be doomed to fail from the start.

I don't know if my theory will make sense to any of you, but it feels right on to me.  And since I am the one that has to live with me, I will trust it.  I believe that when we are alone, we ultimately find balance, and when we are with a partner, we will also seek that balance as a whole.  Like two wrongs don't make a right, two people that are masculine or two that are feminine cannot make a healthy Yin/Yang whole.  You just end up with two halves of something that doesn't match...like two left shoes or a pair of pants with both legs on the left side of the crotch.

Find a partner that complements your existing balance and allows you to become who you are most naturally.  But realize that if you alone are out of balance, you'll not find a balanced partner.  As a dear friend of mine used to say when he would see a a screwed up couple of kids hooking up:  "There go two sickies trying to make a wellie!"  He was so right.

I'm exhausted.  I'm going to bed (in sweats and a silk teddy).  G'night!

The Million Dollar Question of the Day

Why do older men chase young women?

It is a universal issue as I see men from all over the globe, and of all ages, even into their 70's and 80's trying to pick up 20-somethings. It happens with men from all socio-economic backgrounds, no matter how attractive they are, what they have to offer in terms of material wealth, intelligence, sexual potency or their ability to love.  They promote all of the above, even to extremes if they possess them in hopes that one of these youths will bite their hook and be reeled in.  They will use the most cunning bate, like fatherly-type advise with vulnerable women, diamonds for economically poor women, promises of undying love for the lonely women and tales of physical strength and courage for the weak ones.

What's more fascinating is that they don't just target young women, but the most beautiful ones they can sleuth out.  Women who are genetic and generic models of what modern society deems beautiful.  And these girls are the ones that are most vulnerable, poor, lonely and weak of them all because they don't know yet that they have far more to offer other than their beauty (and sex), making them the perfect targets for these men.

I study social networking sites and dating sites, and it is the same story, over and over again...young women advertising with their bodies and older men advertising with their material possessions.  I'd like to believe we have evolved as human beings over the centuries, but honestly, it all still looks like cave-man tactics to me...the females looking for the males with the biggest caves, and the males clunking the females on the head and dragging them back to their lairs by the hair.  It is not surprising to me at all that men still love women with long hair.  

It makes me feel sad when I see it, day after long day.  It makes me sad for the young women who have not yet discovered their real value and strength as women, and it makes me sad for these men who devalue themselves in ways that reveals that they are the ones who are truly vulnerable, poor, lonely and weak.  It also makes me sad because there is part of me that does not want to be powerful and independent, and really wants to be knocked on the head and dragged to some great cave on the Mediterranean sea where the stone (marble) shelves are stocked with caviar and fine champaign, and the canoe (yacht) is anchored just off shore and ready for any number of adventures.

When I was in my early 20's and could have sold my beauty to any king.  And at that time, I had a conversation with an older man (who incidentally was into very young and beautiful women like myself), and he told me point-blank:  "marry for money, not for love."  I'll never forget his words.  It was like he was imparting some sacred secret that only an elite few were privy to.  But I had already experienced love by that time (actually with his son, as a little side note), and I knew it was more valuable than any amount of money (or caves or canoes) could buy.  And I know this still today.  Holding onto my values has made me a strong and powerful woman, and most men can not be with a woman like me.  It threatens their frail egos as they robustly continue their quest for the young and the restless.

But the question still has not been answered.  One possibility came from a wonderful film called Moonstruck with Nicholas Cage and Cher, when Olympia Dukakis asks Danny Aiello why men chase women (referring to the old professor who is constantly chasing young women), and his reply was "because they are afraid of dying".  It was a brilliant "Ah-Ha!" moment for Dukakis' character in the film and a brilliant one for me as well.  I don't know if this is the answer to my question, but I believe it comes close.

So, on I go, witnessing the naive nature of the young and the pitiful nature of the old as I continue to hold tight to my values.  I will continue to watch for changes in human nature, but don't really expect to find any.  There will always be crusty old fishermen out there sharpening their hooks, and there will always be young girls who are too innocent not to bite them.  In the meantime, I don't have any plans to cut my hair.

An Astrological Anomaly

I have started this blog on the recommendation of my dear friend long-time psychic medium, Charlie Castex who resides on a distant Hawaiian island.  He claims to enjoy my 'lucid living' updates on FaceBook.  He may end up being my only fan here in the blogosphere, but it will be nice to be able to say whatever I wish here without having to filter my words or worry about offending anyone.  


Everything you find here is from my soul, like it or not.
I will start by telling you that I have a very intense natal chart, and apparently very rare. It made a master wheel back and forth in his chair saying F*#^K, repeatedly, then asked if he could use my chart in his classes. I still don't fully understand what it all means, but it gives me some degree of comfort in my unusual nature...or at least an excuse for it.


My astrologer's name is Joseph Banks.  He's up in the mountains of Mars Hill, NC, and is the real deal, on every conceivable level.  A Vietnam Vet, worshiper of women and insanely intelligent, he cusses like a sailor, or maybe a truck driver, not that I know people in either of these professions personally.  He's one of those people who doesn't give a rat's ass about the material world, and often goes into another parallel world when we are in session.  I have no intrinsic proof of this, but I am acutely aware of it when it happens and just wait for him to return, bringing back pearls, and sometimes diamonds from wherever he goes.  Between his innate ability to access 'other' places and his organic knowledge of all things astrology, he is a powerful guide in this mostly confusing and perplexed world.  I haven't seen him in a couple years...I think I will give him a call.  Who knows what gems I will come home with.


So, here it goes, Charlie.  I hope you enjoy my ramblings.  Much love to you my friend.  BTW, yes, that is me, trying to smoke at the age of one.  That alone should tell you volumes about me.  :)