The Room Where It Happens (Original Hamilton Cast Reunion - VOTE!)

[thanks to MegHS (again) for always keeping me apprised of The Mallard Family in Boston Public Garden... 💗]

From Team Biden-Harris:

"Former Vice President Joe Biden [ran] for president (and won!) to restore the soul of the nation. He believes it's time to remember who we are. We're Americans: tough and resilient. We choose hope over fear. Science over fiction. Truth over lies. And unity over division. We are the United States of America. And together, there is not a single thing we can't do."

Also, as we now know, Georgia, with 16 electoral votes and 99% reporting (Biden:  49.5%, 2,465,500 and Trump:  49.3%, 2,455,305) will be going to a recount.  We owe a huge debt of gratitude to Stacey Abrams, who has worked tirelessly for years to further the cause of the Democratic Party in this fair state.  Get out those thank you cards now and drop one in her direction!

Abrams also spoke of the two Senate run-off races which are happening on January 5 (thanks to Nance for the link!).  We should do everything in our power to ensure that votes goes Blue, and I (and many people I know) will be contributing to the campaigns of Ossoff and Warnock.  Both wins would get the Senate to 50/50, with Vice President Kamala Harris being the tie-breaker.  Oh, what a lovely thought... 💖

"We dream of a brand new start, but we dream in the dark for the most part" indeed.  Click-boom!

SONG:  The Room Where It Happens (Original Hamilton Cast Reunion - VOTE!)

BOOK:  Biden: The Obama Years and the Battle for the Soul of America by David Lienemann, Jill Biden (Foreword)

POEM:  November by Heather Altfeld

It’s strange, here, waiting for the last of them to be counted,

surreal to think of them shoveled into piles like old snow,

cast out into the world over land and sea to seek, as it were,

their fortunes. I imagine them in the late terrible light

of those rooms, lingering in the stink of yesterday’s lunch

and the air tepid with breath held back by masks,

talking amongst themselves about the ludicrous folly

of humans, who should be tallying the tadpoles

who grew into frogs this year and the number who died

of fungi blotched on the nose, how we ought to jam

the phone lines demanding a raise in the minimum age

for kindness, a cut in the statutory limitations on human cruelty,

a referendum to mortar our cities

from the endless migration of sadness and despair.

Where is the measure in favor of clouds

not yet dreamed or stolen by the sun?

Who will root for the tulips we’ve planted so dumbly

in the dry crud of the earth?

Call it now, for the rivers and the trees and the rocks,

Call it now for the rain, who knows far better than we

How to become one fierce or gentle thing.

[Heather Altfeld: “I think this poem is a collision of two kinds of waiting—both are temporally communal, which makes them particularly interesting to me–the counting of the vote, and here in California, the rain, which we are all desperate for. Both portend our immediate and distant future. And despite the critics of personification, there is something about the convergence of such energies that each ballot carries, beyond its bubbled-in dots—each arrives (hopefully) from the homes of smokers or drinkers, chewed by dogs or babies, spat on by rain or dissent, and in this way, they seem to harbor a strange sort of essence of their own.”]

QUOTE(S):  Joe Biden's acceptance speech for President / Kamala Harris' acceptance speech for Vice-President

Seven is the Number (Dave Carter)

Day f*cking 1... again! - (hi, Melanie... :-)

Three weeks ago today, at 5:10 p.m., I was laid off from a job I'd held for over a year and a half - much as I knew it was the proverbial blessing in disguise, it's been a difficult time, and I've experienced more than a few manic-depressive episodes, yo-yo-ing from peak highs to valley lows.

I've discussed before that it takes 21 days to change a habit - the same can be said of facing a fact, coming to a realization, allowing an epiphany. Wallowing: over - roly-poly mode: uncurled. I have made the conscious choice to rejoin the human race, in all its glorious aspects - I re-started my walking program (3 miles in the neighborhood) yesterday, and got up and did it again today. Loving the much-needed Vitamin D, the awareness of sights/sounds/smells and the acquisition of found objects - yesterday a feather to add to my windowsill aloe plant... and today a smooth rock that fits perfectly in the palm of my hand (a new worry stone?).

Although I've been eating very healthfully and mindfully these last few months, I'd slacked a bit (d*mn those chocolate chip muffins I bought for my son's visit home from college this past weekend!)... so I've now re-committed to my fruits/vegetables/non-processed foods lifestyle - I've also re-focused my productivity goals, making a list (easy/medium/hard) of everything I want to accomplish in the next few months, to take advantage of the fact I'm home full-time until January.

Seven is significant, because for years I've worn seven silver bracelets on each wrist, each with a story/history... from cloissonne to gemstones to inscribed - some were gifts and others self-purchased, a few cuffs and the rest bangles, all special. Seven is a lucky number - seven is also the number of chakras, a pendant of which I was given by a friend recently. I've begun to study the significance of each, as well as their relationship to each other - it's obviously all about the harmony of mind-body-spirit. Much to digest (no pun intended) - I'm just toe-dipping at this point... :-)

An understanding of the energy centers of the body, which are also the spiritual centers of the soul. Chakra is a Sanskrit word meaning whirling vortices of light. They bring together the energy body and the physical body. Your soul has seven spiritual centers (also known as chakras) that control your physical, emotional, and psychological life. When each of them is in balance, your life flows smoothly. When any one of them is out of balance, the imbalance can show up as a physical symptom affecting a particular area of your body, or as an emotional or psychological symptom affecting your outlook.

More here...

P.S. FYI, new SMM - if you check out the left sidebar, you'll see I'm now an official contributor (zippity!).

SONG: Seven is the Number by Dave Carter

BOOK: Seven Sacred Pauses: Living Mindfully Through the Hours of the Day by Macrina Wiederkehr

POEM: The Opening of Eyes by David Whyte

That day I saw beneath dark clouds
The passing light over the water
And I heard the voice of the world speak out
I knew then as I have before
Life is no passing memory of what has been
Nor the remaining pages of a great book
Waiting to be read

It is the opening of eyes long closed
It is the vision of far off things
Seen for the silence they hold
It is the heart after years of secret conversing
Speaking out loud in the clear air

It is Moses in the desert fallen to his knees
Before the lit bush
It is the man throwing away his shoes
As if to enter heaven and finding himself astonished
Opened at last
Fallen in love
With Solid Ground

QUOTE: "Good for the body is the work of the body, good for the soul the work of the soul, and good for either the work of the other." ~ Henry David Thoreau

Right Now (Van Halen)

Daily Om

September 2, 2008

Right Where We Are

Enlightenment At Home

Many spiritual seekers feel called to far-flung places across the globe in the interest of pursuing the path of their enlightenment. This may indeed be the right course of action for certain people, but it is by no means necessary to attaining an enlightened consciousness. Enlightenment can take root anywhere on earth, as long as the seeker is an open and ready vessel for higher consciousness. All we need is a powerful intention, and a willingness to do the work necessary to moving forward on our path.

In terms of spiritual practice, at this moment, there are more tools available to more people than at any other time in history. We have access to so much wisdom through the vehicles of books, magazines, the Internet, television, and film. In addition, the time-honored practice of meditation is free, and sitting quietly everyday, listening to the universe, is a great way to start the journey within. There is further inspiration in the fact that the greatest teachers we have are our own life experiences, and they come to us every day with new lessons and new opportunities to learn. If we look at the people around us, we may realize that we have a spiritual community already intact, and if we don’t, we can find one, if not in our own neighborhood, then on-line.

Meanwhile, if we feel called to travel in search of teachers and experiences, then by all means, we should. But if we can’t go to India, or Burma, or Indonesia, or if we don’t have the desire, this is not an obstacle in terms of our spiritual development. In fact, we may simply be aware that our time and energy is best spent in our own homes, with our meditation practice and all the complications and joys of our own lives. We can confidently stay in one place, knowing that everything that we need to attain enlightenment is always available right where we are.

A few months ago, I stumbled across the Carrie & Danielle website and have very much enjoyed: the Daily Q & A, their blog, the profiles - each reading gives me a better sense of their priorities, which helps me better connect to who I am. As Dar sings, "sometimes I see myself fine, sometimes I just need a witness" - nothing like a cyber-soundingboard (even if they don't know it) upon which to bounce ideas and feelings.

The recent inspiration was motivated by something Danielle wrote last week (in italics below) - I continue to struggle with weight issues (written previously about here over a year ago), but I feel as if something clicked this time.

We’ve all heard it before.

You. Are. What. You. Eat.

It is so simply profound that we’d like to call your attention to it today and ask you this: are you trans-fat soaked chips in a plastic bag? Or are you a juicy mango mama grown with love?

What we put into our bodies doesn’t only show up on our gut and our butt, it radiates through our tone of voice, our complexion, our clarity of mind, our relationships, and our creative expression. Garbage in. Garbage out. Healthy in. Healthy out.

Your genuine self is unprocessed, Grade A, four-star nutritious.

THIS WEEK: It may seem cheesy (pun intended), but imagine yourself as a meal. Are you French cuisine or lentils and creamed butter served in a pottery bowl? Are you a bushel of apples, dark cocoa, or a Christmas dinner with all the trimmings? This week, before you bite it, bake it, or get it to go, ask yourself, “Is this me?”

You are what you eat.

Feed your soul.

As I just wrote this morning in a book to deliver to a dear friend tomorrow:

Dear _____,

Day/Week/Month 1 again... sigh... - well, at least that's been our mindset up until now...

I suggest we recalibrate our thought processes... and embrace the struggle/journey/challenge - just because we'll never be perfect (speaking for myself only!), doesn't mean we shouldn't stop trying. Being mindful of meeting our needs (physical/emotional/spiritual) keeps us tapped into tangible ways to move forward, positively, along our path - feed the soul indeed... <3

To paraphrase Danielle's delivery: Feed. My. Soul. - that's my new tattoo... as well as my new mantra... :-)

SONG: Right Now by Van Halen

BOOK: Fifty Ways to Feed Your Soul by Rosemary Cunningham

POEM: Alive Together by Lisel Mueller

Speaking of marvels, I am alive

together with you, when I might have been

alive with anyone under the sun,

when I might have been Abelard's woman

or the whore of a Renaissance pope

or a peasant wife with not enough food

and not enough love, with my children

dead of the plague. I might have slept

in an alcove next to the man

with the golden nose, who poked it

into the business of stars,

or sewn a starry flag

for a general with wooden teeth.

I might have been the exemplary Pocahontas

or a woman without a name

weeping in Master's bed

for my husband, exchanged for a mule,

my daughter, lost in a drunken bet.

I might have been stretched on a totem pole

to appease a vindictive god

or left, a useless girl-child,

to die on a cliff. I like to think

I might have been Mary Shelley

in love with a wrong-headed angel,

or Mary's friend. I might have been you.

This poem is endless, the odds against us are endless,

our chances of being alive together

statistically nonexistent;

still we have made it, alive in a time

when rationalists in square hats

and hatless Jehovah's Witnesses

agree it is almost over,

alive with our lively children

who--but for endless ifs--

might have missed out on being alive

together with marvels and follies

and longings and lies and wishes

and error and humor and mercy

and journeys and voices and faces

and colors and summers and mornings

and knowledge and tears and chance.

QUOTE: "We are indeed much more than what we eat, but what we eat can nevertheless help us to be much more than what we are." ~ Adelle Davis

Soul Food to Go (Manhattan Transfer)

When I was in Framingham, Massachusetts with my friend Stephen (before and after Falcon Ridge), we made a point to visit Trader Joe's, an unbelievably cool grocery store that I've fallen in love with, especially since the closest one to me is Atlanta - I spoke to one of their staff, and it seems they may be opening a store in Florida in two or three years. Can't happen soon enough, as far as I'm concerned - the selection is diverse, the marketing is clever and the prices are beyond reasonable!

Excerpt from Wikipedia:

Trader Joe's is a privately held chain of specialty grocery stores headquartered in Monrovia, California. As of June 2007, Trader Joe's has a total of 280 stores.

Trader Joe's describes itself as "your unique grocery store". Products sold at "TJ's" include gourmet foods, organic foods, vegetarian food, unusual frozen foods, imported foods, domestic and imported wine, "alternative" food items, and basics like bread, cereal, eggs, and produce. Some non-food items, including personal hygiene products, household cleaners, vitamins, pet food, and plants and flowers, are also available. Many of the company's products are considered environmentally friendly.
Trader Joe's sells many items from any of several of its own private labels. Such labels are quirkily named by the ethnicity of the food in question, such as Trader Jose's (Mexican food), Trader Ming's (Chinese food), Baker Josef's (bagels), Trader Giotto's (Italian food), Trader Joe-San (Japanese food), Trader Johann's (lip balm), and Trader Darwin's (vitamins). Trader Joe's is also known as the exclusive retailer of Charles Shaw wine, popularly known as Two Buck Chuck because of its $1.99 a bottle price in California (although in some locales it sells for as much as $3.49 a bottle, due to varying state liquor taxes and transportation costs).

Every employee of the company is held to a certain set of values, which they base their decisions upon. Those values include the importance of integrity, the company’s emphasis on its unique products, and the need to create an experience for its customers that brings them back.

SONG: Soul Food to Go by Manhattan Transfer

BOOK: The Healing Secrets of Food: A Practical Guide for Nourishing Body, Mind, and Soul by Deborah Kesten

POEM: Blue Plate by Jesse Lee Kercheval

After the porno theater became a revival house,
the neighborhood began to change.
The Blue Plate, a designer diner, opened,
all aluminum and curves. Inside,
the menu featured revived comfort foods--
meat loaf, mashed potatoes, a glass case full of pies.
Young families moved in, the drawn shades
of the elderly replaced by window boxes
and Big Wheels in the yards. Another revival.

Then a Mexican restaurant opened--
though not one run by Mexicans.
A pizza place whose specialty is a pie
made with Greek, not Italian, cheese
called The Feta-licious.
But what is real? In time, everyone
came to depend upon the diner. Packed
for breakfast, lunch, pie, and coffee.

If you need a good plumber,
go to the Blue Plate and ask for Carl
who's there talking politics
with the other long-suffering followers of Trotsky.
If you want a sitter, ask the waitstaff,
Who has a younger sister?
If you're invited to a potluck, stop
and buy a whole pie.

In the town where I grew up,
there was a diner too, Bev's,
named after the cook and owner who,
my mother whispered the first time we went there,
was a Holocaust survivor.
When we went for breakfast or a hamburger,
Bev would wait on us, her tattoo shining
on her thick, damp wrist. She was not Jewish,
but Czech and Catholic. She kept an Infant of Prague
by the cash register and changed
his tiny satin outfits to match the seasons.

But she didn't make pie and her mashed potatoes
came from the same box as my mother's.
Bev's food wasn't good, only better than nothing.
Just like being a death camp survivor,
Bev told my mother, wasn't a good thing to be,
only better than not being.

My mother is dead now. Bev too.
My mother wasn't a good cook either, rarely made pies.
I can, but I like the ones at the Blue Plate
better. Dutch Apple, Three Berry, Lemon with Mile-
High Meringue. The trouble with meringue,
my mother said once, is that it weeps.
Amazing, I thought, sad pie.

QUOTE: "There is no beautifier of complexion, or form, or behavior, like the wish to scatter joy and not pain around us. 'Tis good to give a stranger a meal, or a night's lodging. 'Tis better to be hospitable to his good meaning and thought, and give courage to a companion. We must be as courteous to a man as we are to a picture, which we are willing to give the advantage of a good light." ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

Across the Universe (The Beatles)

"Scientists have confirmed what we all knew: You do indeed have a little voice in your head that warns you when you're about to do something dumb. It's called the anterior cingulate cortex, according to white-coated authorities at Carnegie-Mellon University. If you're receptive to it, it's as good as having a guardian angel. "Don't do it," the voice whispers when you're on the verge of locking your keys in your car or leaving the bar with the cute drunk you just met. "Go back," it murmurs as you start to walk away from a huge, though initially inconvenient, opportunity. "

SONG: Across the Universe by The Beatles

BOOK: The Little Prince: Sixtieth-Anniversary Gift Edition (Hardcover) by Antoine de Saint-Exupery (Author), Richard Howard (Translator)

POEM: Concerning the Atoms of the Soul by John Glenday

Someone explained once how the pieces of what we are

fall downwards at the same rate

as the Universe.

The atoms of us, falling towards the centre

of whatever everything is. And we don't see it.

We only sense their slight drag in the lifting hand.

That's what weight is, that communal process of falling.

Furthermore, these atoms carry hooks, like burrs,

hooks catching like hooks, like clinging to like,

that's what keeps us from becoming something else,

and why in early love, we sometimes

feel the tug of the heart snagging on another's heart.

Only the atoms of the soul are perfect spheres

with no means of holding on to the world

or perhaps no need for holding on,

and so they fall through our lives catching

against nothing, like perfect rain,

and in the end, he wrote, mix in that common well of light

at the centre of whatever the suspected

centre is, or might have been.

QUOTE: "If you were all alone in the universe with no one to talk to, no one with which to share the beauty of the stars, to laugh with, to touch, what would be your purpose in life? It is other life, it is love, which gives your life meaning. This is harmony. We must discover the joy of each other, the joy of challenge, the joy of growth." ~ Mitsugi Saotome

Stoned Soul Picnic (Laura Nyro)

SONG: Stoned Soul Picnic by Laura Nyro

BOOK: Everybody Needs a Rock by Byrd Baylor

POEM: Instructions by Sheri Hostetler

Give up the world; give up self; finally, give up God.
Find god in rhododendrons and rocks,
passers-by, your cat.
Pare your beliefs, your absolutes.
Make it simple; make it clean.
No carry-on luggage allowed.
Examine all you have
with a loving and critical eye, then
throw away some more.
Repeat. Repeat.
Keep this and only this:
what your heart beats loudly for
what feels heavy and full in your gut.
There will only be one or two
things you will keep,
and they will fit lightly
in your pocket.

QUOTE: "In matters of style, swim with the current; in matters of principle, stand like a rock." ~ Thomas Jefferson

Fragile (Ralston Bowles)

Today was unbelievably difficult, as an e-mail regarding J's death went out to our client list - many people responded immediately, obviously with shock and disbelief, not having a clue his health issues were life-threatening. The phones were respectfully quiet, with only a few emergency problems requiring attention - fielding those calls brought it all home... again... but in a good way, with sweet stories shared of J's calm and patient manner, talking them off a tech support ledge.

I've begun to segue from a numb haze to sharp reality, surrounded by so many daily reminders - a friend reminded me that we Leos tend to form immediate and close attachments, which is of course a good thing, even when it brings such intense pain. In fact, her blog today had the most perfect quote, which I've borrowed to use below - thanks, M, for the support and empathy...

For four years (from January 2001 to December 2004), I hosted a house concert series in which singer-songwriters would perform, about once a month, in my living room to an appreciative audience of 30 or so - 100% of the donations went directly to the artist as well as whatever CDs/merchandise they sold, and it was a lovely way to help supplement their touring schedule and treat fans to an up-close-and-personal musical experience. Jonathan Byrd, who I wrote about a few posts ago, performed in August 2004 - as was often the case, I offered home hospitality (meals and a stay in our guest bedroom) between gigs. In a late-night jacuzzi session after the house concert, I shared my father story with him - I always asked the musicians to write something in a blank book I had (to preserve the memories)... and I found the following poem recorded there after he left...

SONG: Fragile by Ralston Bowles

BOOK: The Soul's Book of Answers by Carol Bolt

POEM: by Jonathan Byrd

Last night the moon was almost full
And you loved it for its almost-fullness
Laughing at her fertile belly and cooing
Like a friend at her baby shower

Last night your Jacuzzi was almost hot
And we hissed into its almost-hotness
The warm womb of your father's memory -
the inheritance of a failed relationship

You wanted to show me what it was like
to be in the tub when the moon was full
And it really wasn't - but that is you;
Turning loss into healing,
Anticipating the greatness of what could be
with such intensity that you create it.

QUOTE: "Love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket--safe, dark, motionless, airless--it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable." ~ C.S. Lewis