Recovering or improving?!

I don't know if it is the time of year or what, but I've been feeling somewhat blah.  Granted I had a few rough days with the bad toothache, and then sore neck and messed up jaw, but at the same time I'm thinking pain is one of the constant in my life so why the blah feeling... I do know that I`m noticing some stuff around me, and even if I try hard to let it go and not care I still see that I do care and have some fears attached to it all.

Working on oneself brings out many questions, and also some answers.  Some of these answers are not always pretty or even gentle.  Not always easy work.  I'm assuming and hoping it will all pay off in the end, and even before that,  as I see some of the benefits already, but man at times I just feel like giving it all up.

Being alone is not always easy possible, especially when one in happily married and sharing everything with a beloved.  I am lucky enough to have the pleasure of working from home, so I'm home alone during the day almost every work day, and I wouldn't change that for the world.  That being said, when the husband gets home, after his day outside the home, he often feels like talking... that is when it could get complicated, but having the great hubby I do have, it is not.  He respects my silence, and I love him for that (among other things).

I know people's perception of me are only that, the way they see me.  It doesn't mean it is the way I truly am. I know better, when it comes to me that is.  I've learned to refrain from offering free views or opinions about many things.  Most often people ask something but don't care for the answer or get upset when you tell them something they don't want to hear.

I'm done.  I'm not really getting wiser I'm just plain and simple tired.  I guess my half of century of living is starting to rear its ugly head... it is catching up to me.  I'm not even sure it upsets me.  I'm just keeping it real, I guess...

Carry on, nothing to see here!

So? What's new with you? On this side of the screen, things have been moving along quite fast actually. I'm done with the "Happy New Year" crap... January is almost over, it's time to move on, people.  Anyway, most people say it and don't really mean it, just like the "how are you?".  Have you ever noticed how many people actually listen (or even wait) for your answer?  If you haven't yet, do.  You'll be amazed by how many people just say that out of habit.  I tend to not ask.  I know I'm weird.  I do ask people I care about and actually do want to know how they're doing; others, I don't bother.  I simply say "good morning" or "hello" and carry on.  When asked, my answer is almost always "Good, thanks".  It stops there. I don't pretend to care and want to know, I don't.

Last week, thanks to Bacefook, I saw that my first client since we started our company in 2000, had passed away.  She was only 43.  Over the years, she had become a friend; she was more than an acquaintance but not a close friend.  She was someone I was happy to see whenever it happened and someone I did care about.  She was a nice person.  I knew she was battling ovarian cancer, and last time we wrote to each other, last summer, she seemed to be doing well and had a positive attitude about it all.  During the Holidays I had seen some pictures she posted of herself with her kids in NY.  She looked like sick, no doubt about that, but to think that only a month later she'd be gone, is scary.  She had her viewing on Wednesday.  We went after work.  When I saw her in her coffin, I couldn't believe how ravage her poor little body was.  She was no longer the person I knew.  It was a sad thing to see.  Despite everything, from what people were saying, she had prepared her loved ones and went peacefully.  It was nice to see everyone and to be reminded that we really should live life fully.

We're on borrowed time, we're not eternal and we should remember that.  Daily.

That would be just too obvious...

A while ago I've read a joke about this man looking for parking for a while and having to get to his appointment, decided to ask God for help.  He said he would go back to church, made all sorts of promises if only God would grant him a parking spot near where he was going.  A spot opened up right by him, so he parked and then told God, to forget about it, he'd find parking.  That is so typical.

I know many of us don't believe in God, or whatever else we wish to call it.  We all have or reasons for believing or not.  I was raised Catholic and at some point in time, realized I didn't really believe in Church.  I served mass until the age of 18, and then distanced myself from it all.  I guess a part of me believed in something but couldn't (and still can't) say what.  I've been on the spiritual path for a few years.  I'm still not a big Church person.  I've always believed there is something, don't know where, or why, but I've always thought the dead weren't completely gone and were still around to help us.  I know, I'm weird (as if you didn't know that by now!), but I chose to believe that those who loved me alive still do so once dead.

Tonight I have two parties: one with people I see twice/week and one at a client's.  I wanted to attend both.  More than one person told me it would be hard, and Hubby insisted that I wouldn't really enjoyed neither one, since I would leave one to go to the other.  His argument made sense.  I didn't know what to do.  Yesterday morning, while taking my shower, I was debating what I should do and if I should only attend one.

I've decided to ask for a sign or something.  In the past, I've done this and it worked. I know, some people, like Hubby, say it is just coincidences, but I don't think so.  My biggest proof was in 2004, when I'd lost my father's diamond ring on the beach in Tsambika (on Rhodos, in Greece) and found it the next day. 

Yesterday, when I asked for a sign as to what to do, I did say that if I should attend both parties, I should have two exact things in our mail - weird I know (told you I was!). After my shower, I got dressed and went to get our mail. When I got everything out of the mailbox, I almost started to laugh when I saw there were two exact info letters in our mail.  What are the odds, really? 

So... tonight, I'm not going to one, but two parties!

Sorry to disturb you... but someone has to churn those turds.

Back in September, I've sent the email bellow to some friends and relatives’, thinking it was a nice thought. I will admit to have chosen to whom I've sent it, because I do know some people don't believe in God and I try to avoid conflicts when it comes to religion or beliefs. I'll give you time to read what I've sent:

~The 'L I T T L E' Things~

As you might remember, the head of a company survived 9/11 because his son started kindergarten.
Another fellow was alive because it was his turn to bring donuts.
One woman was late because her alarm clock didn't go off in time.
One was late because of being stuck on the NJ Turnpike because of an auto accident.
One of them missed his bus.
One spilled food on her clothes and had to take time to change.
One's car wouldn't start.
One couldn't get a taxi.
The one that struck me was the man who put on a new pair of shoes that morning, took the various means to get to work but before he got there, he developed a blister on his foot. He stopped at a drugstore to buy a Band-Aid. That is why he is alive today..
Now when I am stuck in traffic, miss an elevator, turn back to answer a ringing telephone ... all the little things that annoy me, I think to myself, this is exactly where God wants me to be at this very moment..
Next time your morning seems to be going wrong, you can't seem to find the car keys, you hit every traffic light, don't get mad or frustrated; it may be just that God is at work watching over you.
May God continue to bless you with all those annoying little things and may you remember their possible purpose.

I've received two emails back in which people wrote, in different ways, but conveying the same message: God must have a huge grudge to have saved so few people and let so many die.

My first reaction was to think: Ah fuck! First, I will say I'm not sure I believe in God (as it is described in the Bible or such), but I will admit to believe in something bigger than us, some type of force, power or energy which covers everything, good and bad, equally. I believe in spirituality, or the spiritual way if you will.

As sad as it may be, I'm thinking somehow the people who died on 9/11, ten years ago already (and yet it seems much closer than that), had come to a point in their life when it was time for them to die. They had (or would) completed, by their death, what they were supposed to for this lifetime. This does also imply we have a destiny and doesn't exclude freewill. We make a choice to call in sick one day (freewill), and that day a big accident occurs on the route we take (destiny). It was our destiny to be safe, but it was also the result of our freewill, which affected our destiny.

I don't think God, as so many of us sees him/her/it, is ALL good. If he/she/it created all things, then he/she/it also created evil and all it entails. I don't think of God as a person, as someone like we are, because in doing so I would limit him/her/it to a human realm or reality. I believe in something way bigger than that. In something which created everything, so that we could experience everything, not just the good and happy stuff, but everything. Anyway, we're so dumb, we wouldn't know we are happy until something bad happened and then we'd realized we actually were happy before. I guess it is true that saying "everything happens for a reason". We may not understand that reason, but its part of the game of life. It doesn't have to be fair (as we see it), or should I say it doesn't seem fair, and yet it is.

The death of a loved one will very often seem unfair, and yet it is the only thing (death) that has no discrimination whatsoever. We all are here to learn something. Young and old die, it is part of life. Some people are meant for a short life, others a long one. It never feels right for a baby to die and yet, his death will often push his parents to do things they never thought they could or would. We all wish for a peaceful death, but we also all know it doesn't always happen that way. We all work hard to have a good life, not everyone succeeds. Pain and suffering are as much part of life as joy and happiness and we must experience all of them while we're alive.

Because of our freewill we make decisions, choices, which are not always filled with good intentions. For example, a fanatic who believes in his cause (whatever it may be), and believes that killing people is something he should be doing for the love of his God is exercising his freewill. It may not be right, but it is so. I don't think it is God's decision to have made him become a fanatic. We choose the actions we take. We will also experience the consequences of these actions. On the spiritual path one will become aware of how responsible one is. I do believe in this thing we call "Karma", (the law of cause and effect and the determining factor of how one’s life should be lived).

God wasn’t holding a grudge against those who died on 9/11, nor was he/she/it protecting the others. I think it is a good thing for those of us who do need his/her/its presence to think he/she/it is behind those little things, but it could also be simply because it wasn’t in the Big Plan (our destiny).

We, as human, fuck up daily. We make bad decisions and hope for the best. If reading a text like “The Little Things” inspires someone to remain calm when stuck in traffic, thinking that it was God’s will, who are we to take that away from him/her? He/She’s not hurting anyone and who cares what, or even why one chooses to believe in something or someone? If it works for them we should learn to respect that. I truly believe if we all would mind our own fucking business, the world as we know it would be a much nicer place… but that’s me, and what do I know really?

Oh Dear God

I don't know about you, but I don't consider myself a religious person, but I am on a spiritual path. I don't know if there is a God as we are taught, but I do think there is something, some kind of energy out there, helping us along the way. It might just be luck, coincidence or whatever else, but at times, I do think there is something bigger than little ol' me out there. Anyway, this post is not meant as an invitation to discuss our beliefs, but more as an observation.

Ever noticed that the only time we truly address God is when we are in serious shit? How often do we pray, just like that, because we feel like having a chat with God? Really? We pray when we need him or a miracle, when we’re in deep shit, than we ask for God’s help, forgiveness, you name it.

We get hurt, what do we say? “Oh God”. We are surprised? “Oh My God!” We’re hoping for something big? “Oh God Please!” And let’s not even mention the time we scream his name in pleasure! Hee.

Many of us will start praying when faced with a decision or a situation that is too big for their little souls. We’ve been told we have cancer; let’s pray! We’ve been told someone is sick; let’s pray!

What about the good times? What and who do we pray to or give thanks to? Why is it that we only refer to God in times of trials? Isn’t he supposed to be around us all the time, and not just in times of needs? Is this, once again, one more facet of our hypocrisy?

It’s sad isn’t it, to think that some of us only pray when we want something? This is so much like the kids - parents’ deal. Kids don’t want to hear, see nor talk to their parents until they are in trouble or in some kind of shit hole… and like most parents, God will come and help…and most importantly will forgive. Now that’s pretty amazing when you think of it. If you believe, of course.

Ever wonder why God lets us suffer? Or why he takes something from our grasp? It is said that it’s not to punish us, but merely to open our hands to receive something better. You must have heard before: “The will of God will never take you where the Grace of God will not protect you”. I was told that we suffer in order to get close to God and to welcome him/her/it in our lives…

He must feel very welcomed here, I tell you

UPDATE: This line of thinking was prompted by something I’ve read on a blog. When I first started blogging I had landed on a blog that was also just starting. This woman, in her forties, was thinking of having an affair. I would leave comments and rattle her cage at times, because some of the things she would write would upset me; not because I had issues with what she was about to do, but because of how she would “present” it. I thought it was too lenient of her to think God would forgive her, because after all, he’s all good and such… I hope it does answer your question oh dear Monkey. ;-)

To come back or not?

A while ago, a fellow blogger (who no longer writes, sadly enough) had written a post about how final death was. It made me think. I was raised as a Catholic. Even if I went to church weekly (until the age of eighteen), I often thought that I didn’t really believe what the priest was preaching about. I hated the fact that it was always the same. Since I served mass as well, I basically knew the service by heart. Even now, whenever I hear a prayer, I know what comes next. I know my answers and the priest’s. Anyway, I digress. I’ve wondered about “eternal life” and what it meant really, and also about “resurrection” not only Christ’s but the rest of us as well… Since I’ve also always been somewhat curious, it was only normal that I would look into other beliefs. Buddhism has always attracted me; I like their philosophy. It’s not preachy. That’s the one thing I really dislike about the Catholic Church. And let’s not forget the guilt part. Argh.

From a very young age, instead of praying I would talk to my dead loved ones. If my grandfather had been there for me while alive, and took care of me, I thought it was only natural that I would address him when I needed protection or something else. I had a few “contacts” such as a favourite aunt, and in the last years, my father. I don’t know where they are, but I do believe they are protecting me and are listening to me when I need their support. I remember a cousin saying that “Little Jesus” would answer her prayers, I would think: “How strange to ask Him, He must be so busy and He doesn’t even really know her”.

I don’t know about you, but I’ve always felt there had to be more to life than just this; I mean - we live, we die and that is it… A part of me doesn’t really care, and yet there’s a part that can’t help to think there has to be more. I’m not even thinking of “Heaven” and “Hell” where we go after our death, depending on the life we’ve lead, no I’m talking about this (life) being just a pit stop (or period of time) on a bigger journey. No matter where this trip will lead, it is quite a trip nonetheless.

What about you, do you believe that once we die it’s finished or that there is something else after? I kind of believe in reincarnation. I believe we are here to learn some things, to experience life and to become better people. For some lessons we need more than one life to understand, so we keep coming back until we finally do understand or learn what we’re meant to. I also believe in karma, but that one is a little touchier, because as we know karma is a bitch! Karma has no pity, no compassion. It has rules, and that’s that.

If you had the opportunity to come back to life and choose a time, a place where you would go, and how you would live what choices would you make? Would you go for something totally different or would you re-do what you know? Would you try to do it better or in a different way maybe? What would motivate your choices; you wanting to learn or your fear of the unknown? I really wonder… Please, do tell!

Karma is really a...

If you believe in karma, and such, like I do, then once can't help and wonder WTF did I do in a previous life to pay back so much karma? I mean, really. If I’m here to learn something more, to discover myself, etc., than I must have been really dense in my previous life because there are a LOT of lessons thrown my way in this life.

If you think of dealing with death alone, just that I have pretty much seen all ways one could die: natural death, accidental death, due to sickness, self-inflicted, name it I’ve seen it. And I mean, really seen it. I’ve also learnt from it all. I’ve learned that we must cherish the time we have with our loved ones, because life is short and we never know when it can be over. I’ve learned to tell people how I really feel (not that this has ever been a real issue with me), and not take anyone for granted. We all die.

If you think of dealing with pains and aches, I’ve experienced a lot of those as well. I wish I could say that I’ve learned something, but the only thing I truly believe I did learn was to enjoy every moments I’m pain free. They are few and far in between. I still consider myself healthy and manage to carry on despite the pains. The first surgery I had I wasn’t even 5 years old!

If you think of dealing with morons, I’ve often considered myself a “moron magnet” as Hubby puts it. They are everywhere, and like that kid in “The Sixth Sense”, I see dead dumb people. I know what I have to learn from it; patience, which is really not my strong suit. I’m trying but man it’s hard! Especially when dealing with people too stupid to realise that you’re only trying to help them. I realise that one other thing I must learn is to let go. I have to let go and trust in things beyond my control. “Act as if everything depended upon me, and pray as if everything depended upon God…” man, that’s one tough lesson!

Too much pain

My body is talking to me, and yes I know that more exercise in my routine would be beneficial, I know all that, and I also know that I'm the one in pain here! I hurt from the moment I get up to the moment I get into bed and even while I sleep pain wakes me when I turn in bed, so, please… I know you’re well intentioned and only want me healthy, but there are some things going on with me that nobody knows about, not even the f*cking doctors! Can you believe that I went for my spinal tap on January 24^th, and to THIS day I haven’t heard f*ck all from the neurologist! I don’t remember how many friggin’ messages I’ve left. At first his secretary would say “it takes a while for results to come in”, then the results were in, but she couldn’t tell me what they were. Last week they were off on vacation, and today they are closed. It’s completely ridiculous and yes I should change doctor, but I’m not willing to go through other tests like I’ve been through so far. There’s enough pain coming my way. A friend of mine, who’s about to retire as a nurse, suggested to get a lawyer involved. I might have to think about this.

I’m not looking for sympathy here, I’m just venting. I’m frustrated and in pain. The constant headache and neck pains are really getting to my moral. I try to keep up the brave happy front, and not show that I’m constantly in pain, the only one who really knows how much I hurt is Hubby, and it’s taking its toll even on him. I’m tired, physically & mentally. I don’t remember what I did or who I was in a previous life, but this life’s karma was all about pain, that much I know. I had to learn about suffering, and I think that by the time I’ll die I will have learn lots about it, that’s for damn certain.

Anyway, I received this video from a friend, and despite being long (18 min.) I think it is worth watching. Enjoy!

Will you remember?

When pooch passed away last year, I took comfort in knowing that she would be waiting for me by the Rainbow Bridge. I trusted her to remember me. Isn’t that strange how even without having any proof of this, I would choose to believe that my little pooch is awaiting me somewhere?

I was asked recently why, if there is a God, does he/she/it choose to make us suffer before we die? I’m not talking about accidental, sudden death, but the type of death where we see our loved ones go through, i.e. long, slow and suffering. Anyone who has seen someone battling cancer will know what I’m talking about. At the time I answered that we suffer in order to appreciate the good days. I’ve been thinking about this, I even asked my meditation teacher about it. The hardships make us appreciate the good times even more. But there must be something else also.

I do believe that our passage here is only a short pit stop during a long voyage. Yeah, that’s it. We are here only for a brief moment, some shorter than others. How we spend this time is up to us. I believe in living each day as if it was my last, or at least trying to. I don’t want to be on my deathbed wishing I’d done more. I know many people who never talk about death; it’s just something they don’t talk about. Some it’s out of fear, others out of superstition, or just plain discomfort. Why are we here? What is the point of all this? Not many of us will truly leave a mark on this world; there was only one Napoleon or Caesar so to think that we will make a difference is pretty cocky.

When people retire from work, it doesn’t take that long that we forget about them. I’ve seen this also when somebody changes job, or move somewhere. Oh, we always say: “It won’t be the same without you around” or “Let’s keep in touch” or “Don’t forget about us”, but that’s the first thing we do. We forget.

Ever wonder how long it will take people to forget you? I do. Even if I do think I am unforgettable (ha!), I do know that I will be forgotten, no matter how much I do. We forget. Whenever I think of relatives that passed away many years ago, I can’t help but notice that their features are not as sharp as they once were. Of course I have pictures to refresh my memory, but it’s not the same. Same thing for friends I haven’t seen in many years. Time does leave its marks on us, and we change, thus affecting the way we look. That is one change that isn’t always for the best.

No matter how good, kind, or honest we try to be, I can’t help to wonder if you will remember me after I die?

Oh, and my teacher says that we suffer in order to get close to God and to welcome him/her/it in our lives…

Church aerobics anyone?

Some time ago (more like last year) I told Hasarder I was not a religious person, even if I was born and raised as a catholic. I;m more spiritual than religious, that's for sure. I went to church on a weekly basis until I turned 18 or so. I had no choice about it – it was “house rules”. My father was an elite member of the “C & E Club” (meaning he would go to church at Christmas and Easter).
My mother on the other hand always went and still does. She would go to the Sunday service or if she couldn’t the Saturday one. And that’s without mentioning the weekly visits she does for funerals or simply because she wants to.

So, since I had to attend mass at least once a week, I decided to serve mass. Might as well keep busy while I was there. I spoke to the nun who ran the “altar activities” (who was also my 3rd grade teacher) and started out as an altar girl. I would basically simply attend mass sitting in my soutane. As time went by I became more involved. And began to serve mass, helping the priest preparing the host, his wine, etc. Used to love to ring those bells when he presented the host before communion. And then I was in charge of the incense! I loved that; I got to leave the service to go “being the scene”, prepare everything and lit it. I didn’t mind the smell either. I liked being up there and seeing everybody, some paying careful attention, others snoozing with the wife elbowing the husband at times, or others simply “not there”, lost in their thoughts or picking their noses. I saw it all!

I soon became so involved, that I would be called out of school on certain days to serve at funerals. At some point I had to train my mother to do all that. The giggles we had kneeling next to each other when one of us would goof up…

I remember, during a service, sitting there looking at the paintings around the altar, asking myself why was I there, since I wasn’t really sure I believed in what the priest was saying…so I stop going. I was old enough, i.e. over 18+ to be “allowed” to make that decision. That decision wasn’t welcomed with open arms at home.

For the longest time I chose to believe that my loved ones (like my grand father or a favourite aunt) were out there taking care of me, helping me. In my second year of college I had a philosophy teacher who declared at the beginning of the term “This year I will prove to you that God exists and that God doesn’t exists. You will have to decide on your own.” I was so confused that year. I would come home absolutely convinced that I believed in God and then a few weeks later I thought that it was all man-made. During that time I had some pretty heated conversations with my folks.

My mother has always been, and still is, the type of person who doesn’t question much. I, on the other hand, question everything! When I would ask questions about my parents’ faith it would disturb them, naturally. Not many people are really willing to openly talk about their faith. My mother would get upset. She had faith and believed. And that was that. That was totally unacceptable to me. And still is. But at the same time, as I get older, I understand a little more… (let’s say).

I remember one conversation where I asked her why did she believe. Her answer was always “because”. I would then proceed with the “because why? That’s not an answer”
Because was her answer. She believed because she had been told. She believed because her parents believed before her and told her to. She believed because there had to be something else out there; because she had faith, and wanted to believe in something bigger than us. She didn’t (and still doesn’t) like that I questioned her that way. I disturbed her beliefs system. I on the other hand, don’t have blind faith like that. There were times I wish I did. I kind of envy my mom, with her “knowing” that she was taken care of; that no matter what she was protected in a way.

All this to say the church thing wasn’t for me. And it still isn’t. I like to walk in a church and I love the calmness you feel as you enter it. But the preaching part… that is too man made for me. Maybe things will change and a time will come where I’ll want to go. Last time we attended a service was for Hubby’s mother funeral. At some point he leaned over and said, as we were asked to raise and/or sit; “Here we go with the church aerobics…”

How about you, are you a religious person?
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Image: Personal Photo Igreja Santo Cristo, Acores '99

"Time Is On My Side", or is it?

Since last night this song is in my head, not the whole song, just that... Tiiiiiiime is on my side, yes it is... Tiiiiime...

Do you ever do something and then think “Why did I do that?”. I do, often. While I was visiting my mother on Mother’s Day she told me about a friend of the family who had been diagnosed with bone cancer. Even if I hadn’t seen him in years I felt sad for this strong and lively man who was now suffering and yielding away. I wrote him a letter in which I thanked him for being part of my life for so long, for being a strong character figure, a constant in my life. I felt that I wanted to let him know how he had touched me, and I wanted to do it while he was still alive. That’s one regret I won’t have.

My MIL's cancer has been progressing and finally one oncologist gave a timeline. It’s not good, about 2 months only. It must be the strangest thing to know that you have so little time left. We all know that “one day” we will die, but to know that there’s an actual timeframe, must be really, really… I can’t even say it.

My meditation teacher often says that we are here to prepare our deaths. At first I used to think that it was morbid. Now, not so much. We don’t talk about death. We don’t want to face it. That’s the only thing we should all be certain of; we will all die. One day. We just don’t know when though. But to know when, or to have an idea of “when”, what would you do about it?

If you have faith then it might be easier, I say might because faith doesn’t preclude being afraid. Maybe because I’ve been surrounded by death since a very young age, I can’t say that I’m afraid of dying. I’m scared shitless of suffering, that I don’t want. But dying…
I do think that if we live every day to the fullest, really say what we mean, not always postponed things, not hurt others intentionally, live life the way it’s meant to be lived, death won’t be so scary because we didn’t waste our time here.

Imagine being on your deathbed and using those last moments to say “Oh I should have…” or “I wish I could have…” that would be sad. A friend once told me, “It’s better to have a regret than a doubt”. It took me years to really understand what he meant. I prefer being sorry for something I did or said rather than regret not having said anything… but that’s the way I am.

I’ll leave you with this text I got from a friend via e-mail a little while back. I removed the “chain” aspect of it, but I liked the message.

WHAT A WONDERFUL WAY TO EXPLAIN IT!

A sick man turned to his doctor,as he was preparing to leave the examination room and said, "Doctor, I am afraid to die. Tell me what lies on the other side."
Very quietly, the doctor said, "I don't know."
"You don't know? You, a Christian man, do not know what is on the other side?"

The doctor was holding the handle of the door; on the other side came a sound of scratching and whining, and as he opened the door, a dog sprang into the room and leaped on him with an eager show of gladness.
Turning to the patient, the doctor said, "Did you notice my dog? He's never been in this room before. He didn't know what was inside. He knew nothing except that his master was here, and when the door opened, he sprang in without fear. I know a little of what is on the other side of death, but I do know one thing. I know my Master is there and that is enough. "

May today there be peace within you. May you trust that you are exactly where you are meant to be. I believe that friends are quiet angels who lift us to our feet when our wings have trouble remembering how to fly.

What would you do if you knew that “time wasn’t really on your side”?…

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Image: Beach in Kauai, taken by Hubby

Spiritual path

Last night, hubby and I took a walk and we talked. I've been doing meditation for over two years now and was wondering if he saw any change in me, since the reason I started this was because my osteo strongly suggested that I started meditation, because my body was simply not letting go. I was fighting his treatments, so he thought meditating would help be release some tensions.

I joined the group where a friend have been going for over 18 years. At first I was unsure. I was biased a little against it. What was it exactly, what did we do there, etc. When I first joined the group (who's made of all types, "normal" people) I thought it was weird (I still think that anyway!), but I liked the teachings the teacher was giving. He's an interesting man, with quite interesting views. In sitting there in silence, repeating my mantra I realised that I was on a spiritual path that I wasn't really aware I was on.

Yesterday, hubby said it in such a way that I was surprised by his "arm chair psychologist" way:
I was at a crossroads in my spiritual quest. I didn't know what I believed or who I believed. Attending group helped me see that there are certains things that I do not want, so I've been eliminating some things. I might be (I am!) confused still, but at least I'm taking off layers I don't need, and that is a good thing. Some progress have been made.

I don't know if meditating helps, but that time is spent in quiet and it is calming so... can't be bad!

Today I read Scott Adams' Blog, and it was a very interesting post, to me at least (and to hubby I'm sure when he'll read it). If you have a chance read it (click on the link above, it will bring you right to it). It's about relativity... and God.

I wonder if one day, I'll ever have comments like he does (over 200 on each posts)?
Don't think I'd want that, because unlike Mr. Adams I would answer them!
...but I do love reading your comments!