Little Ways of Being™
- Created on 15 November 2013
Read my latest essay that Rebelle Society published today, and enter the dialogue to come up with a new word for "crone." The article has hit a nerve.
So far I like Wisdame, Shamama, Mage, and Wow [Wise Older Woman].
- Created on 13 October 2013
- Created on 24 September 2013
It was an ordinary day. Following last night's overcast skies, rain poured. I chanted the Hare Krishna mantra, hearing the eternal sounds and allowing them to touch my soul.
- Created on 13 November 2012
Here's the passage I want to share with you because the poetic last paragraph was so lovely to me; the previous paragraphs are for context:
- Created on 01 October 2012
Most every morning I walk while chanting the Bhakti mantra on the beach here in St. Augustine. The past month I haven’t taken any hormones, which means walking around on fire day and night. The ocean cools, especially the early morning and early evening.
My schedule has been unpredictable as I get acquainted with my new location, a new bed, and a body without hormones. The unsettling nature of change has allowed me to spend time with Her Ocean in the middle of the night, at sunrise, and at sunset, happily avoiding the heat and crowd of the day.
Crescent Beach. It’s a descriptive name. Face the water and look to your left. About five miles away the beach juts out into the water on the horizon like a left arm embracing the ocean. Look to your right. In an equal distance down the coastline a right arm completes the hug.
As I gaze in both directions at the white-sand-arm’s embrace of the ocean I feel as though I’m standing on a crescent moon.
The sand is w-i-d-e at the center and tapers into points on the horizon as the eyes get closer to the ends of its arms. The adjective “wide” applies to the width of the sandy shore and its length in both directions.
The expanse enthralls. Mystical moments have enfolded while I’ve stood here.
But it’s not exactly the crescent beach that inspires me with awe, a sense that I stand witness to perfection, or causes me to feel embraced and safe. It is the oval I see. There are two parts to the shore, the land and the water. Here on Crescent Beach the marriage of the two creates an oval.
- Created on 14 September 2012
You’ve got to scrub them off. Every last one and every last inch of them. Florida’s love-bugs are delicate and always joined with another. They float and land easily, lovingly. All would be well in Florida if love-bugs just stayed out of the way of cars. Their unending deaths on the front of my car and rear view mirrors leave remnants of love that can best be described as a god-awful mess. Not a benign one.
Their black bodies are made of something more tenacious than tar. If you let them stay on the car your paint will be indelibly stained. From what I can tell, if they’re left on long enough of, whatever was in them and their love-making starts eating away at the paint.
So why isn’t there a product to keep them off my car? I have lived peacefully with each love-bug season for the past twenty years, but not this one. I’m driving more.
I’ve ventured out to set up a writing retreat, which means camping on a tile floor in an empty house, close to the ocean to spend glorious mornings and evenings with sand between my toes and sweeping my feet into tepid waters.
I now commute between St. Augustine and Alachua. For two days a week I'm in Alachua to care for Meena (that’s pretense I just have to be with her), stock up on water, do laundry, and pick up a piece of technology, a sweater, or whatever I need in at my campsite in St. Augustine.
I’m relocating to St. Augustine to write. It might kill me but I’m going to write. Okay, I shouldn’t make that statement publicly for many reasons.
Anyway, after making the one-and-a-half hour ride between St. Augustine and Alachua, I have to—sooner or later—remove the love-bugs from the car.
Why is there nothing we can put on cars before leaving our driveway that inhibits or prohibits love-bugs from attaching themselves to us?
- Created on 09 September 2012
For the person taking an inner journey do politics and spirituality go together? Is it politics and spirituality or politics or spirituality?
For the past year I’ve been following American politics, as well as world politics focusing on issues concerning women. So Marianna Williamson’s recent article Sister Giant: Consciousness and Politics at HuffPo, which partially takes on the questions I posed, caught my attention.
The article is a feeder for the November event “Women, Non-Violence and Birthing a New American Politics,” which aims to encourage more women to enter politics. The logic is that we’ll heal what ails us if we increase women’s participation in politics. We need more heart in governing society.
- Created on 20 August 2012
I listened to Martin Seligman, the "father of positive pysychology," speak at the Aspen Ideas Festival about improving happiness through practice.
Studies show that the single-most important barometer of personal happiness is whether a person is grateful. Check out your level of gratitude by taking the Gratitude Survey. I thought I would score high, but didn't. What an eye opener!
I also took the VIA Survey of Character Strengths. To each statement in the survey, you are to indicate if it represents you or not. Here are two of the 240 questions:
"The goodness of other people almost brings tears to my eyes."
"I get chills when I hear about acts of great generosity."
On The Aspen Institute site, I stumbled upon a talk about abuse of women by the authors of Half the Sky: Turning Oppression into Opportunity for Women Worldwide.
Kristof said, "In any decade, more women are discriminated to death than all the genocide in the 20th century. The scale is truly astonishing." He means, literally, discriminated to death.
More girls die in ten years by families selectively choosing boys over girls than all the people killed in all the wars in one hundred years!
Kristof went on to say that the central moral challenge in the 19th century was Slavery; the 20th century Totalitarianism; and the 21st century Gender Inequality around the globe. He says his statement isn't hyperbole.
Tears came to my eyes.
And they really started to flow later driving home from Meena's fourth birthday party as I approached the left-hand turn onto my road.