ALL I WANT IS A ROOM SOMEWHERE…

Contributed by Carol (Ki’ihele) West

When I first met the man I was to marry he was, more or less, camping in a friend’s house with a coat closet for his “things.”  When he opened the door of this overstuffed closet, he was likely to have an armful of falling debris. I thought it was just a guy thing, and paid it little mind.

After a few months of dating,  we moved into a house with a garage on O’ahu.  Soon the garage no longer had room to hold the cars as he had filled it with engines, transmissions, car parts, tools, boats, sails, and anything that happened to catch his eye. I didn’t, at the time, realize that this propensity would take over my life.

We soon moved to the island of Maui and had a big yard that began filling up with, to me, junk. To him, they were all things that would eventually be “useful objects.”  After we got married, we wanted to build a home of our own, so we moved to the island of Hawai’i where land was still inexpensive. Thinking we would be able to start with a nice clear acre of trees and ferns, I packed just a few of my few things. He packed up the entire back yard!

Our home was small but sweet. My husband worked at home rebuilding cars and building boats and I went to work. Our family grew ~ we had two boys who didn’t seem to mind the junk in the yard – it was what they were used to.  But, all I wanted was “a room somewhere” far away from the junk that surrounded our home.

It took a long time for my husband to fill that acre and then, without my knowledge, he bought a second acre. Against my protestations he proceeded to fill the second acre and I finally began to realize he had what is now called a hoarding disorder.

Through all of this, the house remained my uncluttered domain until one day my husband moved a huge desk from the upstairs into the living/kitchen area and began stacking things on it.

Soon, I had to squeeze myself through the yard (I could no longer park on the lot), and had to bang on the door to get in, as I could no longer open it from the outside.  I felt violated.

Promises … promises … no action! … After 30 years of marriage, I could no longer tolerate living on such a beautiful island in what the county had now designated an illegal junkyard.  I finally asked for a divorce.

Endings and Beginnings … I didn’t want the house, but did get the second acre of land.   With my savings, I was able to build a little home.   The cottage is all mine, even though I still have a credit card debt to pay off.  It took me a long time to even put furniture in the house.  I needed open space, wanted clear floors, and yearned to feel the breeze blowing through all the windows with nothing to impede its flow.

I slept on a cot with my cats and felt free. In time, I did buy the necessary bed, chairs, and a table. I planted hibiscus and plumeria, fern trees and papaya and now have a lovely garden – never taking my surroundings for granted.

Today, my home is once again a magical place. I am joyful, at peace and rejuvenated.  I marvel at the fragrances in the air, feel every flutter of wind, and go to sleep with the sounds of the coqui singing in the night and the waves hitting against the cliffs.  It is just “loverly”!

“All I want is a room somewhere,  far away from the cold night air

With one enormous chair. Oh, wouldn’t it be loverly?

Lots of chocolate for me to eat. Lots of coal makin’ lots of heat

Warm face, warm hands, warm feet. Oh, wouldn’t it be loverly?

Oh, so lovely sittin’ abso-bloomin’-lutely still.

I would never budge till spring crept over the window sill.

Oh, wouldn’t it be loverly!

Loverly, loverly, loverly

Wouldn’t it be loverly!”

My Fair Lady – “Wouldn’t it be Loverly?”

By Lerner and Loewe

                       Bio – Carol (Ki’ihele) West

I sailed to Hawaii with my family on a 40ft. sailboat at age 18. I had spent the summer on O’ahu the year before and had fallen in love with the islands. I’m still in love with the islands after 51 years.

I went to college at age 30 and earned my RN degree, but found I didn’t like nursing so I found another job in the health field and worked as a Chiropractic Asst. for 24 years. I had flexible hours and was able to be off on Tues. and Thurs. afternoons which allowed me to take my two sons to their soccer and baseball practices and the weekends free to attend their games.

But, I found it increasing difficult to be at home among all the junk so decided to take a hula class to get me out of the house. One class soon developed into twice a week and kept me sane.

It became a passion  for me and when the boys moved away for college, I began to pursue hula seriously, dancing and teaching four times a week. I made all the costumes for my hula halau’s performances. Sewing was something I have always enjoyed doing. I had made my own clothes and those of my son’s and husbands for years. When I retired at 65,  I finished my cottage and then I needed an outlet,  so I opened an Etsy shop sewing hula skirts, tops, shirts, etc. for hula. I have had my business for 15 months and have had a steady clientele.

I put a lot of aloha into my creations and love the fact that I am, in a small way, helping to perpetuate hula.    Do you know someone who dances hula or just loves Hawai’i?   Then, e komo mai–come in, kick off your shoes and browse through my shop of hula pa’u (skirts), tops, shirts and Hawaiian fabric gifts, handmade in Hawai’i with aloha.

                                                         *(^^)/    Ki’ihele

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IT’S ALL CLAY  

Contributed by Satya Winkelman

She was staring right at the woman on the edge. Not at the skeleton, the snake or the alligator.  The flash from the photo taken of this black ceramic bowl must have made her face come to light…third eye and all.  The bowl is actually completely empty and was made to portray how I was feeling then.  So seeing the woman’s face in the bowl years later was an awesome transforming surprise.

The process of creating art has always been therapeutic for me as it is a personal expression of my psyche, usually unknown to me at the time.  After my divorce, a move and a total hysterectomy, I was feeling dark and empty and decided to use clay,  a new medium,  for therapeutic expression.

Click on image to see enlarged view

The hysterectomy was much more significant than I had realized,  and my zest for life and femininity felt as dead as the skeleton I sculpted.  Already a psychotherapist,  I had known that snakes represented transformation, which I was seeking;  and that the alligator was representational of guiding of the dead. Attaching those pieces together with the woman seemed appropriate.  The bowl was painted black,  fired and put on a shelf.

Loving the feeling of clay,  I continued expressing and sculpting my emotional-psychological process. The many pieces made over those years reveal steps taken while transforming from shadow to light. As one stage lifted, another emotional phase took its place, but the awareness of Spirit Woman’s light has remained.

I started sharing my art with the women’s empowerment groups I was leading and in seeing the pieces, they  related viscerally to the various stages of my work.  Observing the process, the women felt relieved to know they were not alone or stuck, and could see where they have been and where they were going on their journey.

The face in the bowl, “Spirit Woman”,  has guided me to write “Through the Fire” to share my art and journey with all.  Thirty-six sensual pieces are used to illustrate five stages of emotional growth that I, along with hundreds of women I’ve worked with, have traversed in order to obtain  higher states of consciousness.

Spirit Woman reminds us, especially when we feel alone, on edge or in the dark, that we are not.  Facing the light of awareness, we can all reflect on an observing essence ~ even if it is our own psyche.

After all … it’s all clay!

Bio ~ Satya Winkelman, M.A., C.P.  

Satya Winkelman is a nationally board certified psychodramatist and group psychotherapist with art therapy training, and has a Masters of Arts Degree in Psychology and Creative Arts. During her 30-year career, she has served as a communication and personal effectiveness trainer for Fortune 500 companies, schools, churches, and business throughout the U.S., Canada, and Europe.

Satya held the position of staff trainer and Program Director for Kripalu Holistic Health Center, and served as staff trainer and Director of Psychodrama at Sarasota Palms Hospital. In addition, she was the creator and director of Personal Growth Theatre, and was the host of a television talk show, Mental Health Matters.

Winkelman creates sensual ceramic sculptures in her Sarasota studio and continues to teach communication skills and facilitate women’s personal growth workshops. Her book “Through The Fire: A Woman’s Guide To Transformation” is available at www.Amazon. com.  and also at http://guidetotransformation.com/

To view and purchase Satya Winkelman’s sculpting and art pieces,  go to http://fineartamerica.com/profiles/satya-winkelman.html

Take a tour – visit Satya’s galleries on Fine Art America

 

How to become a contributing author to Metamorphosis – Your Stories

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Metamorphosis Revisited: Once I was a Butterfly

Contributed by Linda Maree

Collage by Linda Maree ~ “Once I was a Butterfly”

Once I was a butterfly, spreading my creative wings and taking flight, flitting about, soaring through “life as it comes,” and I thought my transformation complete.

Before gaining my wings, I had experienced a divorce, a move to a new state and then across the country, and a severe health challenge that nearly ended this terrestrial journey. Imagine my surprise, emerging from that dark chrysalis time, to find that I could fly! And I did.

I spread my newly-formed wings and flew into the light, sipped sweet nectar with friends, and delighted in fruitful days as well as days when I sat back and rested my strong, beautiful wings. I tasted the poignancy of love at its best and worst and best again, and the pull of hunger during lean times.

I knew the joy of doing work that I loved and the shame and sorrow of misdirected choices and missed opportunities, yet rejoiced in the rebirth of spring as each year passed, celebrating my birthday and life renewed. I believed that once I had my wings (I want to be a writer … I want to be a writer … and then one day, wings: I am a writer!)  the really hard work was done. Once a butterfly, always a butterfly!  How could this not be so?

What a surprise, then, awakening on this year’s birth anniversary threshold to find myself wingless … and hungry! I was a caterpillar once again!  Voracious. Crawling on my belly, pulling myself along and devouring all in my path.  Nourishment!  Must eat! ~ my frenzied mind called out to me. Books … retreats … classes … workshops … I devoured them all as if I had never eaten before, never partaken of the wisdom I was ingesting. Never mind the effect of my tremendous appetite on those around me, those I love. In the caterpillar phase there is nothing to do but nourish oneself, to the exclusion of all else.

Life often requires such focused, single-pointed effort, for it is the only means for surviving and thriving the phase which follows that of the very hungry caterpillar . . . the time of quiet destruction and renewal: the chrysalis.

I have been here before, in the chrysalis, and the past results were stunning, but to be honest, at this point in my life, I hadn’t planned ever to return to this uncomfortable place again. It seems, though, that transformation is a dynamic process that requires a balance of cycles to sustain it.

I don’t recall all of the details of previous chrysalis sequences, but I do remember learning one very important lesson: the process of metamorphosis is most painful when I try to hold on, to remain attached to the me I have always known myself to be, attached to the way things were, the way I believe they should be. Holding on only creates pain, sorrow, angst and much more suffering than necessary.

Without attachment, however, the chrysalis phase becomes one of deep, quiet rest, complete dissolution, and a preparation for re-emergence. To the outside world it may appear as an inability to focus, lethargy, even despondency or lack of initiative. Inside, though, there is a lot happening, crucial changes occurring that will one day be readily apparent … but not now.

Because I have been here before, and because I have experienced the joy of emergence in the past, this passage into the chrysalis is easier in some ways, though my ego still likes to remind me that “laziness” does not look good ~ I do not look good.

And it is true. The chrysalis phase is not a pretty one, not admired like the beautiful butterfly, and can be even more troubling to our loved ones than the annoyingly hungry caterpillar. As caterpillars, when our appetite is at its peak, we are most open to sharing with those around us the wisdom ideas/thoughts/words we have been devouring … whether they want to hear them or not! We constantly regurgitate what we’ve read, what we’ve heard, what we’ve learned, and at least it appears that we are doing something, albeit somewhat obsessively.

Here in the chrysalis, though, there is no sharing, no movement, or so it seems. There is only quiet, stillness, integration, and the hard inner work of becoming the butterfly once again.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cAUSKxWMIh0

?t=6s

Bio ~ Linda Maree

Once upon a time …  there was a child who loved stories.  One day the child came upon a path bathed in moonlight and sparkling with bits of magic, pieces of myth, and trickles of metaphor and decided that this was “The Write Path” …

Today, published writer and wordplay enthusiast Linda Maree creates and facilitates programs for engaging the inner storyteller, enhancing and promoting creativity, and nurturing “The Feminine” within all of us through visual art and the written word.

Web site: http://www.etainwrites.com/

Blog: https://honeycombmoon.wordpress.com/

Email: honeycombmoon@gmail.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/HoneycombMoon

How to become a contributing author to Metamorphosis – Your Stories

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I recently spent some time with a special friend and she told me how she came to name her upcoming book  (which I hope to feature in a future blog).  What follows is my reaction to the story of her experience.

At a New Year’s Day service, which is a time of beginnings, my friend participated in a “White Stone Ceremony.”  During the ceremony, each person was given a white stone and participated in a meditation which lead them into receiving a word that encouraged their spirit to celebrate a new beginning.

My friend was asked to hold her stone, feel its energy, and go within to discover a word which called to her.  After a few minutes of meditating, the word “JOY” emerged.   Knowing that she had found her personal word and her purpose, she wrote  ”JOY” on the white stone.

While listening to this story, goose bumps began to travel up and down my arms.   I kept seeing and hearing the word “OPEN,” and I immediately knew that this is my own “White Stone” word.

Other words have called to me in the past (grief, courage, passage, freedom) but I cannot describe how deeply the word “OPEN” resonnates with my spirit today.  It feels like a “call to action” to live by!

Oprah Winfrey said, “You have to find what sparks a light in you so that you, in your own way, can illuminate the world.”

“I AM Open” illuminates my world.  At the start of each day,  I am open to the belief that it brings with it a breath of fresh air … a new beginning!    Laurel

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“What you are is what you have been. What you’ll be is what you do now.” – Buddha

I wrote this poem in 2003, reflecting about my sons and how quickly time had slipped away.   Then, in 2009, after my husband Marty passed ~ this poem took on a deeper meaning.   It has been revised to be reflective of my thoughts of today.   Even though the essence of this poem is one of regret,  I now understand that one should stay in the present moment because, truthfully,  that is all we have!

Please listen to the song I Blinked My Eyes

composed and sung by Philip W. Leber.

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My Journey of Reconnection with Joy

Contributed by Randy Brown

As a kid, I knew exactly what brought me joy! It was playing baseball. The game was magical to me. I loved everything about it: the uniforms, the equipment, even the dimension of the field. I loved the strategy of each pitch. I love to watch the Major league players who had become my heroes for their amazing ability to play this magical game.

When I wasn’t playing baseball I was day-dreaming about baseball, reading books and articles about baseball. I would walk with my friends to 7-Eleven to buy baseball cards and baseball trading cups. I would buy baseball magazines so I could cut out the pictures and put them up on my bedroom wall.

No one ever had to motivate me to play baseball! My desire to play flowed as effortlessly as breathing. When I was playing baseball it was as if time didn’t exist, I never checked the time to see when I needed to quit. It required no effort, no hard work and there was no pressure, no stress, just pure joy!

I grew up in a very normal, happy family. And to this day we are all very close and love each other deeply. My parents were loving and generous people who also happened to be extremely talented and high achieving people. My Dad was gifted in athletics and business, while my mother was a gifted singer.

Somewhere along the way I lost the ability to be “fully alive.” As anxiety and fear of failure crept into my life I began avoiding many of the joys of life, in order to avoid pain.

Along the way I came to the conclusion that there were only two standards of performance: perfection or failure, there was no middle ground. This caused me to drive myself very hard and to put a lot of internal pressure on myself. In doing so, I became my own harsh judge.

So by the time I reached high school the inner pressure of perfectionism had me completely disconnected from my earlier, pure love of baseball. The passion that had once resonated so strongly, had been whittled away, one perfectionistic piece at a time. I had become terrified of not living up to my own perfectionistic ideals, no longer playing for the joy of the game, but instead trying to avoid failing, because failure, of any kind, was not an option. What could I do but try even harder, which brought on more stress and anxiety.

In college, I did what I felt I “should” do by pursuing a major in Business, which I had no passion for. In fact, it caused me great anxiety and when I didn’t excel in my school work I experienced frustration and discouragement.

When I graduated, I followed my Dad’s footsteps and went into sales. By now I was completely disconnected from what brought me joy, and was completely without a dream or passion in my life. I was just doing what I thought “I should” do.

Of course, I took on my sales career with the same perfectionistic mindset. I definitely had an “outside-in” focus, needing the recognition, bonus checks and awards that are typical of people having to be motivated to do something they aren’t inspired by.

Under the stress of trying to be high-performer, in something I didn’t love, I began having panic attacks and severe depression. Somehow I continued in sales for another 25 years, all the time driving myself, and continuing to battle anxiety. Eventually OCD and addictive tendencies began to take over and I hit the wall. I knew there had to be something more. I had reached the point of emotional and spiritual bankruptcy.

The direction of my life began to change when I had an amazing spiritual experience. One Sunday afternoon as I was praying in my bedroom, being now truly desperate, something seemed to subtly shift and a gentle message pierced my despair: I received the impression that we needed to move to Utah where my father-in-law worked as a personal success coach for the Professional Education Institute, a company that helps clients all over the world align with their dreams and passions.

Things didn’t completely change overnight, there were still challenges ahead, but my transformation process was underway. Little by little, I was exposed to the success principles taught by some of the world’s top personal development gurus.

After working there for a while, it became evident that there were some absolutely vital things missing from all of their teachings

While working at PEI, I had the opportunity of meeting best-selling author and inspirational speaker Jack Canfield when he came to speak with the personal coaches. In his presentation, he took us through a meditation exercise designed to help us connect with our “Highest Good.” This simple exercise had a life-changing effect on me. For years I had an inner desire to become an author myself. I had started and stopped several times in my efforts to write a book. As Jack spoke to us that day, something amazing took place inside of me that caused powerful emotions to resonate.

This experience caused me to ask myself, “What if everything I’ve believed about success is wrong?”

• What if True Success is a measure of how happy I am?
• What if True Success is less about effort and more about allowing?
• What if True Success flows as a result a Divine Purpose that been designed for each of our lives?

I know now that these feelings that resonated so powerfully inside of me were calling me to my “Divine Purpose,” calling me to live the joy that was designed for my life.

Bio – Randy Brown

Randy Brown is a personal development speaker, author and coach. He is now a self-employed business owner.

Randy is the author of “Experiencing Christ, Your Personal Journey to the Savior,” and his current project is “TRUE Success: Your Divine Purpose.” He has done personal coaching for Robert Kiyosaki and Jack Canfield.

For over 20 years, Randy did numerous public speaking engagements for the Southwestern/Great American Company.

Randy’s  blog contains articles and posts designed to help individuals  find “TRUE Success” by connecting to their “Divine Purpose.” His inspirational messages will provide readers with universal principles and techniques that will enable individuals to change limiting beliefs and attract an abundant life of Divine Purpose!

Randy Brown’s Blog: www.principlesofdivinepurpose.com

http://www.facebook.com/7PrinciplesOfDivinePurpose

Do you have a story to share? Click here.

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The Yin and Yang of My Heart

Unbelievable as it seems, it has been four years since my husband passed away. Every year, from January 26th until February 19th, I go into a Bermuda triangle of memories and emotions – his birthday, the day of his death and our anniversary fall on these dates.   You would think grief would have loosened its hold on me, but these meaningful days still haunt me.

I loved my husband for 44 years (notwithstanding all the ups and downs of most marriages).  Today,  I  am blessed to be in a committed and loving relationship with a wonderful man who has graced my life in many unexpected ways.  We understand that we each bring our own life history into the mix, which enriches the bond between us..

Mature relationships are so different from the ones we had when we were young and always looking forward.   In addition, I have the perspective of time and the experience of loss, which has taught me to be grateful for what is here right now in the present moment.

The Yin and Yang of My Heart

And this brings me to the angst that is the Yin and Yang of my heart.

I have been worried that the love I hold for my husband in my heart would somehow be lessened or lost because of my newfound love.  I wondered if I could love two men, quite differently, in a balanced and peaceful way alongside each other?

“Yin and yang are two sides of dualism. It is the tail and the head of a coin. The tail is yin, and then the head is yang. They exist alongside one another. The head cannot exist without the tail, and the tail cannot exist without the head.  The earth we live on is yin, and the sun that brings us warmth is yang. Sadness is yin, while joyfulness is yang.” (Tao-In-You.com)

At lunch the other day, I shared with a friend, who was widowed after 60+ years of marriage, what I was struggling with.  She looked at me and said “don’t you have room in your heart to love all of your children?” That simple question was an “Aha! Moment” for me.

I immediately flashed back to a memory of being pregnant with my second son and wondering how in the world I could possibly love another child as much as my first.  As soon as he was born, the love for my “second child” enveloped me; and the question of how much capacity I had to love became a moot point.

My heart has room for many loves – my husband, my new mate, family, friends, and pets.  It is a big place with infinite capacity.

In the past, when one of our pets died and we got a new cat or dog, not a replacement, but another pet to love ~ I didn’t worry about room in my heart.  I didn’t worry about losing the memories of that beloved pet.  I am not likening the death of my husband to a pet, but the point here is that I am more than capable of holding countless “loves” in my heart.

I consider myself very lucky and am grateful to have found a loving man who honors my past, as I do his.  In our sixties, we know that our individual journeys, before we met, prepared us to find the love we have for each other today. We have blended our lives and are building our own history ~ each and every treasured day that we spend together. I have come to understand that I am not being disloyal to my deceased husband; I am honoring the love we had by being open to life’s possibilities.

Today was a watershed moment for me.  The questioning within me has been answered and my heart is open and at ease.

As Rumi said, “Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.”   I whole “heartedly” agree!

 Listen to the song “Can We Will We?”written by Laurel D. Rund

Composed & sung by my love Philip W. Leber

Can We Will We?

The CD “Emerging Voices” can be found on Itunes or Philip’s website

The book “Emerging Voices” can be found on Amazon

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You are a Little Angel

 Contributed by Heidi  Thompson 

When I was ten, I met Swami Sastrananda. He was a guest in our home for a day. What left a lasting impression on me was the Swami’s peaceful, loving smile, his thoughtful, intelligent eyes, and his reassuring words, “Heidi, you are a little angel.”

After he returned to the Ramakrishna Ashram in Bangalore, I wrote him letters. I asked him questions about God, life, and how to become a wise person – like he was. I never thought that writing to a Swami was unusual.  All I remember is that when I was ten, I felt alone, insecure, guilty, and not worthy of being loved.  His kind letters reassured me that I was a good person.

Throughout my adult years, the Swami continued to write – even when I was too busy to write back. I was studying art in Europe and changed addresses frequently. Somehow his supportive letters always found me. After my European adventure, I returned to Canada and pursued a career in photography and painting.  I married a guitar builder, Ted Thompson, and had one daughter and stepson. For the next 20 years I enjoyed a creative life of painting, teaching, and family.

When I was fifty, I received a phone call. It was the Swami, now in his 80’s. He had kept all my letters from my childhood and wanted me to have them. He asked if I was happy. I said, extremely so. I told him that I had discovered a meditation technique called Vipassana, which was giving me the answers to my life-long questions.  He said, “I knew you would find your way. Vipassana is a good path.”

Using Breathe Awareness to Develop the Brain and Improve Concentration 

I attended my first 10-day Vipassana meditation course taught by S.N. Goenka in 1983. It was an intensive, silent retreat that required us to meditate for about 11 hours a day. On day seven, during one of the breaks, I was standing in the woods looking at sunlight radiating through the trees.  I was struck by the beauty. An intense peacefulness filled me. I felt at one with myself and the nature around me. It was in this moment; I realized that everything I had been looking for – worthiness, joy, peace, freedom, and love – were within myself. The only thing that had separated me from this experience was a thin veil of ignorance.

Vipassana is a meditation technique that was taught by Buddha. Its tradition has been passed down from teacher to student for over 2500 hundred years.  It provides a method to sharpen one’s awareness, establish a base of morality, and cultivate insight and wisdom. The technique is three-fold. First, one practices Anapana-sati, or breath awareness, to sharpen the attention. This involves focusing on the sensations of breath at the entrance of the nose. The second technique is Vipassana, which requires one to direct the attention throughout the body, feeling every sensation and remaining objective with the experience. Vipassana’s aim is to awaken wisdom of our transient nature and develop less attachment to pleasure and pain. The third technique is loving kindness, a meditation which cultivates goodwill and selflessness.

Being a mother, I felt compelled to teach children breath awareness. In 1996, I created an attention development program called Mindmastery and taught young people from Kindergarten to high school. The students came from all walks of life. Some were high potential learners, some were high-risk, and some were diagnosed with severe ADHD. The transformation that I saw in the children always brought me joy.  From my own childhood experiences, I could empathize.  Many of these children were feeling stressed, incapable, angry, confused, and unworthy of love. I could see that while they were doing breath awareness, they were happier and more serene – they truly looked like “little angels.”

I now understand why Mindmastery was welcomed in the schools. The 1990’s was the beginning of ADD and ADHD becoming a popularized mental and behavioral disorder. At the time, no one realized that this condition was being propagated by pharmaceutical companies. They coined it ADHD – Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder. Their marketing campaign was so successful, that millions of children ended up being diagnosed with this disorder. Subsequently, they were prescribed the controversial methylphenidate, psychostimulants – the new wonder drug. Today, things haven’t improved. Over 10 million children in North America are taking this brain altering psycho-stimulant.

Intuitively, I never accepted the notion that a lack of attention could be a “disorder”. Otherwise, I would admit to having ADD or ADHD myself. But, judging from my ability to focus when I want to, this wouldn’t make any sense. Experience tells me – all humans are born with relatively underdeveloped attentions. It is through our upbringing, experiences, and efforts that we can develop this unique human brain faculty – if we choose to.  No pill can build our brains. No pill can cultivate our faculty of attention. No pill can awaken our wisdom and love.

Humans possess amazing potential to develop their minds. Science confirms this. They say that the brain develops and grows through our experiences, diet, stimulation, relationships, rewards and punishments, and thinking and feeling. All these factors contribute to cultivating the brain and developing the brain. Because of science, many people now accept that we are indeed, makers of our own minds. Only through effort, attention, focus, determination, work, and love will we manifest our potential and become our “higher” selves. There is no deficit in our nature, just untapped potential.

Fortunately, there is a worldwide movement driven by conscious, concerned, and compassionate parents, teachers, doctors, policy-makers, and scientists. They are educating the public about the brain and the dangers of drugs. Parents are ensuring their children get a wholesome diet and are exposed to meaningful stimulation. Teachers are incorporating yoga and meditation in the classroom. Doctors are suggesting natural methods that heal rather than chemicals that mask the problems. Policy-makers are ensuring corruption doesn’t infiltrate our government. Scientists are researching meditation. Their findings are reassuring the population that meditation is an effective way to develop the brain and improve health.

My humble contribution is to inform people about breath awareness – a simple, safe, and effective exercise that can develop the brain and improve concentration. To learn how to do breath awareness and teach your children, you may enjoy my book, Calm Focus Joy: The Power of Breath Awareness – A Practical Guide for Adults and Children.

After practicing breath awareness, nine-year-old Braden wrote, “If I could change the world I would tell everyone how to do breath awareness so the world would be more peaceful.”  Now, I must say, Braden sounds like a little angel.

Bio – Heidi Thompson

I was born in Vernon, B.C. and I moved to Europe when I was seventeen. I discovered my passion for art and studied photography at the University of Art & Design in Zűrich. After graduating, I worked as an apprentice with German artist, Oskar Kollar, followed by a year at the Art Academy of Nűrnberg. In 1981, I studied a final year at the Hungarian Academy of Art in Budapest. In 1982, I returned to Canada and worked as a freelance artist. Later, I earned a B.F.A. through BC Open University and a teaching degree certificate through the University of Victoria. I have published three books and currently exhibit my paintings in the USA and Canada. (www.heidithompson.ca)

My book, Calm Focus Joy: The Power of Breath Awareness is available on my website, www.calmfocusjoy.com or on Amazon, Kindle E-Books, or Barnes and Noble.

Heidi Thompson: htcthompson@hotmail.com

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Listed here is the February 2013 art show calendar for Essence of Laurel.

If you are in the area, please stop by and visit the Essence of Laurel booth.  My work is also available for purchase on the Fine Art America website.

Thanks for your support.  Laurel

19th Annual Siesta Key Craft Festival (Sarasota, FL)

February 9th & 10th, 2013 - Saturday & Sunday 10 AM – 5 PM

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WHAT DID YOU EXCHANGE FOR TODAY?

by Gaye Freedman, Ed.D

At one time I lived in a big house, had an impressive job, a nice car, and important friends. I spent my time chasing the Joneses and dreamed of living large like Oprah or Donald Trump. I thought I was important and life was perfect; but like many people I took for granted the things that were really important; my family, my friends, my life.

One day my daughter who was nine, came home and said she didn’t feel well. I figured she probably had the flu and so I told her to lie down. She asked me to tell her, her favorite story, a story I had been telling her since she was five years old. “Ok” I said and told it to her quickly and then said, “Now go to sleep princess.”

Around two o’clock in the morning I heard a strange noise and got up to see what it was. “Ginger are you all right?” I asked, “Ginger? Are you all right?” Suddenly I was screaming, “Ginger! Ginger! Ginger!” My beautiful daughter had stopped breathing and died. She didn’t have the flu; she died from an infection in her heart.

My daughter’s death was like a bomb that blew apart my family and my life. As Dante said, “In the middle of the journey of life, I came to myself within a dark wood and the way was lost.” I was lost.  For the next two years, I woke up each day and made only one decision. Would today be the day I killed myself or would I wait until tomorrow? I guess it’s a good thing that I’m the world’s greatest procrastinator. But honestly, I didn’t think I could do that to my husband and my son.

One day, my husband took me to Maui, and as I sat on the grass near the Seven Sisters waterfalls, watching the sunset over the horizon and the waves crashing against a magnificent shore, the salt air filling my lungs. I was stunned at how beautiful it was… it was so beautiful. And I asked, “God, how you can make something so beautiful and yet take everything that is beautiful from me”. I don’t understand.

And in that moment I had what I can only describe as a spiritual experience. I realized that I was part of a vast and miraculous universe and with a creation this magnificent I couldn’t possibly understand it all. But if I were willing to trust God then one day, I would be given the answer to my questions.

My daughter’s life, although short, had been a gift. A gift I took for granted. What was really important was not how rich, how successful or how famous I became. It was the people I loved and the joy I found in living every day.  A proverb says  ”What you do today is important because you are exchanging a day of your life for it.”

“What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the master calls a butterfly.” Richard Bach

I learned to ask myself, “What did you exchange for today? Are you living life so caught up that you forget to focus on the things that are really important, your family, your health, and your friends? Are you celebrating life?

• In a small town in Italy at sunset everyone comes out of their houses to sit on benches and watch the sunset. They celebrate life.
• In Latvia, people celebrate the summer by running across a local bridge at 3:00 am in the morning…naked. They celebrate life.
• But Americans, we rush through our days. Our lives become routine, we fall into a rut. Do you know the difference between a rut and a grave? Not much.

My daughter’s death taught me to celebrate life; to live with purpose, laughter and love … and to see each day as a gift.

I often ask myself, “What did you exchange for today?” Was it worth it? In the 4.5 billion year history of the universe this day only comes once. I’m committed to exchange each day for the things that are really important and to embrace this miracle called life?

How do you feel about your life right now? Are you happy? Do you see every moment as a gift? Or are you so entrenched in the everyday hassles of life that you don’t have the time to focus on what’s really important, on what brings you joy.

 Bio – Gaye Freedman, Ed.D

Gaye Freedman, Ed.D, has a Doctorate in Education from the University of Southern California and over 20 years experience working in the field of Training and Development. She has worked in corporations including Intel and Cisco Systems and non-profit organizations including the YWCA, Black Chamber of Commerce, Girl Scouts and the Bill Wilson Center for homeless and runaway teens in San Jose, CA.

As Chief Education Officer of Global Education Projects she developed “The Global Kids Club” a web based educational program for ages 8-12 designed to introduce elementary students to the people, places and cultures of the world. And as the owner of Life Strategies Consulting, she specialized in motivational workshops for women. A passionate advocate for women she used humor and creativity to inspire women to achieve their dreams.

As part of her life journey she also picked up a hobby…..Comedy… and has been having a blast working as a comic for the last few years. During the recession when everything seemed to crash and burn she decided that life was too short to bitch and moan. “I mean really nothing is promised so what the heck.” Her motto became, “If it ain’t fun don’t do it.” And this is what her life is about, being happy and living a life of joy and laughter.

Gaye is currently working on a new project to bring that message to women across the country.

Ms. Freedman lives in Bradenton, Fl with her husband of 40 years.  Her website, which is a work in progress (isn’t that a metaphore for life?)  is:  The Laughing Goddess

How to become a contributing author to Metamorphosis – Your Stories

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A story of transition from

the dark side of addiction into

the positive light of recovery

by Bill Hanks

It was a terrifying night—one that I will never forget, nor one that I can ill afford too. Nothing particularly unusual occurred during the day that would lead me to believe that a life-altering experience would soon take place. Nothing unusual in a day in the life of a drug addict, that is. In reality, the experience was a tragedy that would set in motion the wheels of a transformation—somewhat like a Mouseketeer into Britney Spears. It was a profound episode that forced me, in desperation and despair, to acknowledge that there was, in fact, something truly wrong with me.

When I awoke from a blackout at four o’clock one Sunday morning in January 1996, I was sitting in my car in the parking lot of my office building, with the Van Halen song “Running with the Devil” exploding through the speakers. (Looking back, the song spoke volumes about my life). Dressed in a mismatched three-piece business suit, I soon realized my warped state of mind was, in effect, reality turned up-side down . . . a so familiar place. I turned down the sound a few hundred decibels, and then asked my children, “Why are we here?”  It was at this point the nightmare began—my six-year-old and seven-year-old were not in the car.

A frenzied foxhole prayer could not even begin to subdue the hopeless fear and panic that overcame me. I begged God, “Please let the children be back at the house.” Although the drive home was less than two miles, it seemed as if I was trapped in still motion.  The image of two helpless children wandering aimlessly in a cold, dark deserted park played over and over in my head. When I finally pulled into my driveway, the headlights captured two kids peering out from behind the kitchen-window curtain. I remember thinking, “Thank you Lord—thank you for protecting them from me.”

I was relieved, even when the children confronted me with, “Dad, what’s wrong with you?”  I was so scared, yet grateful for their safety. Because of me, the instincts—the survival skills of a six-year-old and seven-year-old had been put to the test. I told them that I was having a bad reaction to my medicines, which was partly true—I just didn’t mention the mass quantities involved. My son informed me that he had called their mother, and she was on her way to pick them up. I remember telling him, “You did the right thing . . . I’m proud of you.” Within moments, they were driving off with her—only to look back at me in bewilderment. My lone thought was that I’d probably never see them again—something their mother had just promised.

Although I was relieved that the children were in safe harbor, it did little to subdue my anguish. I was now alone with myself . . . and it was terrifying. “You f***ing monster,” I screamed when viewing the wretch in the mirror. “You’re insane,” the image cried back. “Please God; take me out of this self-induced misery.” Death was beginning to look like a pretty good option; the gun is in the sock drawer . . . now I was panicked.

Looking back, it was Divine intervention that got me to the hospital—where I checked myself into a treatment program and truly acknowledged for the first time . . .  I’m a drug addict. That was 16 years ago.

I’m frequently asked if this is when I “hit bottom?” No, this was just another dreadful event that occurred while I was living in a bottom . . . albeit the event that led me into rehab. Actually, I had begun hitting bottom years earlier. Hitting bottom is not just blacking out with your kids or smashing into a toll booth on the Interstate. It’s not just about bar-hopping in Oklahoma City on a Friday night—then waking up in Shreveport, Louisiana, the next morning with no recollection as to how you got there. Hitting bottom is an inside deal, a state of mind, a way of living that reflects the insane thinking and behavior that is part and parcel the footprint of a disease called addiction.

Living in a bottom is tantamount to the universal definition of addiction: An uncontrollable compulsion to repeat abnormal behaviors regardless of their negative consequences.

Sixteen years ago I was a hopeless dopefiend. Today, I’m a dopeless hopefiend.  The events of that Sunday morning have manifested into a self-help memoir titled “Serenity: It’s a God Deal” (finding your way to sobriety, sanity, and serenity). With book in hand, I teach “Recovery 101” to patients in treatment, having worked with approximately 15,000 patients to date. In addiction, I bring “awareness programs” to our young people as well as “knowledge and information” programs to moms and dads in order to give a better understanding about people like me and why we do the things we do.

Writing “Serenity” did two things for me: 1) It put me back in touch with the person I was before drugs and alcohol took over, and 2) the book put me in touch with the person I would like to become!

 

 

Bio – Bill Hanks

Bill and his daughter at a book signing

My name is Bill H., and I’m, well…complicated! Clinically, I’m a recovering drug addict—with attention deficit disorder to boot—who, after 22 years of consuming a plethora of mind-bending toxins, is very much grateful to be alive.

In 1996, Bill recognized a problem with drugs and alcohol, and subsequently checked himself into a treatment center. As a result, Bill, in a volunteer capacity, taught weekly classes on recovery for ten years at the rehab center that helped him to help himself. Having personally worked with approximately eight thousand patients in recovery, he provided Twelve-Step based support and teachings to those in need.

One of the objectives of this book is to incorporate into the mainstream the author’s understanding of the Twelve-Step Program of Recovery. Although this book was written from the perspective of a recovering addict, the reality is that you don’t have to be a drug addict or alcoholic to benefit from a spiritual pilgrimage that has led millions to peace of mind—from desperation and despair, to hope and then Serenity. After all, the only difference between the people of “mainstream America” and those with addiction(s) are the ways in which they handle their problems. Peace of mind resides within these pages.

This book is Bill’s effort to reach out and, through lessons learned from his own experiences, help those in need find their way to Sobriety, Sanity and Serenity. Through his teachings and stories (some funny, some not so funny), the author hopes to touch  every emotion, and perhaps feelings you didn’t know you had.

Bill Hanks is a recently retired twenty-five-year veteran of Wall Street—the last eleven years as co-founder and co-manager of a Registered Investment Advisory firm.  He lives in Tulsa, Oklahoma, and is a proud father of two, daughter Ryan and a son, Patrick, both of whom are in college. Bill is devoted to bringing “awareness programs” to our young people. His motto: “I would rather deploy ‘prevention factors’ now versus ‘damage control’ later.”

Web Page:  www.billhanks-serenity.com

How to become a contributing author to Metamorphosis – Your Stories

 

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“Imagination is the highest kite one can fly,”  

Lauren Bacall

“I see children as kites. You spend a lifetime trying to get them off the ground. You run with them until you’re both breathless. They crash . . . you add a longer tail . . . you patch and comfort, adjust and teach. You watch them lifted by the wind and assure them that someday they’ll fly.” Author: Erma Bombeck

” Let’s Go Fly a Kite (from Mary Poppins)

With tuppence for paper and strings,
you can have your own set of wings.
With your feet on the ground,
you’re a bird in flight!
With your fist holding tight,
to the string of your kite!

Let’s go fly a kite
Up to the highest height
Let’s go fly a kite
And send it soaring
Up through the atmosphere
Up where the air is clear
Oh, let’s go fly a kite!

When you send it flying up there,
all at once your lighter than air!
You can dance on the breeze,
over ‘ouses and trees!
With your fist ‘olding tight,
to the string your kite!

Let’s go fly a kite
Up to the highest height
Let’s go fly a kite
And send it soaring
Up through the atmosphere
Up where the air is clear
Oh, let’s go fly a kite!”

Written by Robert B. Sherman

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AWw-ttmWHeg

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“Be Not afraid; it is I, Peter”

A Light from a different dimension

by James Francis

Let this be for

• those who have seen their beloved pass from their view ~
• those who lie ill and are without hope ~
• those who are afraid of their human mortality ~
• and for those who long for peace with life ~

The following is my best description of a very personal and a most remarkably true event. I am asleep in my bedroom (3–4 am). I wake up facing the wall to my left, and I raise my head. Compelled for some reason to turn my head, I look then to the right, and there, a few feet from my bed, is a Light.

Not a light bulb, nor light coming thru the window. It was a Light from a different dimension  (Light, that of itself, was alive!) that just opened up in the middle of my small bedroom.

And I was just about to release an audible “huh?” when the Light speaks, “Be Not afraid; it is I, Peter.” I barely had time to blink or feel the fear that was just readying to rise when the voice slowly spoke again, “Be not afraid; it is I, Peter.”

But this second time the voice and words seem to come from literally everywhere inside me and around me. I was immersed in their energy and sound, and I subsequently found myself to have departed from this earth entirely. I was a Light just like Peter.

I was following behind him, not on legs, however, as I had no human body. I was more like a Living Light-filled Expanding Orb of Consciousness, for lack of better words, and all of me was totally sobbing with joy!

And I mean, soul-deep sobbing over and over again exclaiming, “It’s so good to be home again!” and nothing had ever felt better, truer, and more real. Freed from the earth, and finally, Home Again! YES!!!

We were moving in what felt like a diagonal slant upward direction. I saw nothing and no one else. The further we proceeded, the larger I kept expanding, all the while filling up even further with a joy that was truly indescribable and so intense! Incredibly, in just seconds, it felt as though I had swelled to hundreds of miles in every direction! (Could there be too much of a “good thing” because I was losing control?) I was trying to now “hold on” to my (already way the heck out there) boundaries.

I was like a gigantic balloon and my fingertips (that did not exist, though I was trying to use some form of that thought) were stretched to the max and now failing in their effort to contain the now-impending explosion of nuclear joy!  Yikes!?

And as strange or humorously stupid as this may sound, I was suddenly afraid of “blowing up”! OK, sure, with Joy Beyond Comprehension, but still, I’m feeling like this balloon is going to burst and Pop! goes the ME-zel.  I stop.  (Apparently fear acts like a brake, even there.)

Peter now turns to me and says gently and with assurance, “Come, it’s just a little further; you’re almost there,” but I reply, “I don’t know how!” Now is that hysterical or what?

But I really was occupied with the whole “holding on” to some kind of boundary idea, and I feel apologetic (as your brother) that I wimped out at the last moment, a hair’s breath from certain changes to my ego that I sensed might render me void of any chance of retaining a relevant first and last name, leaving me likely speechless and more likely, me-less.

But Peter knew where I was at before I did, and then warmly confided to me “Just wanted to show you, so you know.” And just as suddenly I was returned to this world; me, my body, the room, my bed, and I was delightfully intact with a whole new understanding of the truth of our soul and of our home not being of this earth, but in that of the infinite ether of spirit.

I slid out of my bed and knelt in profound gratitude and thanked my Father and my brother for this most blessed moment of my life. I knew that all of us–you, me, your family, friends, and neighbors– every one of us are actually together forever. That was a very reassuring thing to know with absolute certainty at the young age of twenty-two.

This was not a near-death experience; I was simply taken and returned. It was the coolest trip of my life, and the awe and preciousness of it remains with me always. To say I am grateful is an understatement. For those that may wonder if this divine soul-snatcher is the same entity as Peter the disciple of Christ, the topic never came up. He never said he was, so I cannot tell you he was, and nothing like that mattered at the time anyway – though “within me,” I do know him to be that brother and your brother. Nonetheless,  I would have been equally glad for the lift, no matter the name he gave.

Bio – James Francis

James Francis was born in the early 1950′s in Michigan. Currently James resides in the picturesque mountains and valleys of the Northwest. As a young man his early twenties, his prayer and desire to know, commune with, and serve his Father-Mother Creator was rewarded with several profoundly beautiful, and life changing transformative spiritual experiences which forever influenced his direction, perspectives and understanding of the meaning of Life.

James has shared some of these experiences in detail, as well as a wealth of other information in a short 71 page treatise titled: And the Door shall be Opened – The Spiritual and Mystical Letters, Writings and Visions of James. The work was published in paperback May 1st, 2012 with Outskirts Press, but there is the Free E-book version of this work that can be downloaded from his website at http://www.newmeadows.weebly.com/

Regarding the book, the author personally suggests “one bring a sense of humor with their reading glasses (first ten or so pages), as this may be a journey unlike any other you have taken.”

How to become a contributing author to Metamorphosis – Your Stories

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Events with Essence of Laurel 

 Anna Maria Art League 25th Annual Winterfest 2012 

December 8th and 9th 

 Saturday & Sunday from 10:00 to 4:30 pm

This coming weekend is the Anna Maria Art League 25th Annual Winterfest 2012 where my artwork will be displayed and for sale at the Essence of Laurel booth.  Stop by and say hello, browse and perhaps pick up a unique gift for that someone special in your life.   Look for special holiday pricing at my booth.

Note:  if you don’t live in the area, or unable to attend in person, I am offering a holiday discount of 25% on my artwork bought on the Fine Art America site.  Please use this code - CLCBAF

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I thought it would be appropriate to publish a narrative about gratitude and thankfulness on my blog “Metamorphosis – Your Stories” during this Thanksgiving holiday.

Many times around this country, at the Thanksgiving table, people take the time to share what they are grateful for.  But how often do we take the time, regardless of the occasion, to let someone know that we appreciate them?  A simple heartfelt note, email, or phone call expressing gratitude can light up someone’s day.  Contributing author Lynette Smith’s intent is to get people to write letters of appreciation so they can establish, enhance, and even rebuild their relationships and thus change their world.   

Today, I am grateful for the fullness of my extended family, friendships and creative spirit in my life. Happy Thanksgiving to all!  The Essence of Laurel

 Walking the Flower-Lined Path

Contributed by  Lynette M. Smith

I consider myself pretty well balanced; I love my husband and family, value my friends, enjoy my freelance copyediting career, and hold solid spiritual values. But I have a little secret: I have a fear of change.

Sometimes I avoid starting a major marketing campaign or other activity. Other times, I execute nearly all the details but balk at taking that last step, that final leap of faith. I freeze and wonder: “Can I cope with the big changes success or failure might bring? Do I really want to venture out of my comfort zone into the great unknown?”  So I stall, making the excuses:  ”There isn’t enough time in my schedule.  It isn’t the right time to start or complete this activity.”

I confronted my fear in November 2011 when a business friend, studying hand analysis, was reading the life-purpose messages found within my fingerprints. While she saw the good balance in most areas of my life, she also read “fear of change” in my right index finger. Indeed, when she told me, I knew she was right.  I recalled a couple of recent examples of that fear and decided to focus on one.

I shared aloud what I had been thinking about for over a year: “Should I or shouldn’t I write a how-to book about writing letters of appreciation?” No sooner had these words escaped my lips, I heard a quiet and confident voice within me clearly and distinctly say “Your book will be published by August 15th.” Surprised, I told my friend what I had just heard, adding that I’d been given not only an answer but also a deadline!  I said with resolution, “Well, I guess I know what I’ll be doing for the next few months!”  My friend responded “I can’t wait to watch this journey!”

A personal event had inspired me to think about writing this book. When our son Byron married Rachael in 2008, they each wrote a loving letter to their own parents, describing not only their fondest childhood memories but also the values, life lessons, and ideals they would bring to their marriage. At the wedding rehearsal, one at a time, they presented their heartfelt letters. Both sets of parents, as well as all others present, felt deeply moved. We will always treasure our son’s loving memento.

In the months that followed my “ah-ha” moment, I honored the voice and got to work. It seemed that the road was being cleared for me -  whenever I needed money to pay for book-related expenses, clients gave me large copyediting projects and sizeable start-up deposits. Whenever I had to finish writing a draft by a certain date in order to stay on track, my work schedule opened up, allowing me to comfortably meet that deadline. My husband was supportive of the time I spent writing, and I never felt frazzled.

While brushing my teeth one morning, the same voice which encouraged me to move past my fear, gifted me with the title of my book. I stopped, gave thanks, and jotted the words of the title on a nearby notepad ‘How to Write Heartfelt Letters to Treasure: For Special Occasions and Occasions Made Special’.

Soon afterward, I realized I had also manifested a “Big, Achievable Goal.”  It was to get people to write letters of appreciation so they could establish, enhance, and even rebuild their relationships; thus changing their world. I saw these letters as helping to tip the world away from fear and anger towards love and appreciation, and my book to be used as a tool to help those who want to write but don’t know how to begin.

‘How to Write Heartfelt Letters to Treasure: For Special Occasions and Occasions Made Special’ was indeed published in August, and it garners praise and enthusiasm in reviews, interviews, blogs, and articles. Meanwhile, I continue to walk what I’ve come to call “the flower-lined path” as I market this book. And my “Big, Achievable Goal” continues to be one of reminding people that writing letters of appreciation to someone special can change their world.

This experience, this journey, teaches me that when one is “on the path,” in harmony with one’s life purpose, there is nothing to fear. With God, all things are possible. Indeed, I have embarked on what I see as the most exciting and joyful time of my life. This quote from Dr. Robert Emmons’ (a Researcher on Gratitude) continues to encourage me ~

“Gratitude is literally one of the few things that can measurably change people’s lives.”

Bio – Lynette M. Smith

Lynette M. Smith lives and works in Yorba Linda, California. She owns and operates All My Best, which is both a business and nonfiction copyediting service  (www.AllMyBest.com, Lynette@AllMyBest.com).  She is also the  publisher of appreciation products (www.GoodWaysToWrite.com, Lynette@GoodWaysToWrite.com).

The foreword of Lynette’s book is written by Peggy Post, great-granddaughter of Emily Post, director of The Emily Post Institute, and co-author of the 18th edition of Emily Post’s Etiquette.  

How to Write Heartfelt Letters to Treasure: For Special Occasions and Occasions Made Special is available in both soft cover and eBook at Amazon.com, BarnesAndNoble.com, and other online booksellers. Autographed or custom-inscribed printed copies are available at www.GoodWaysToWrite.com.   

Lynette is enthusiastic about sharing—through interviews, articles, presentations, workshops, and more—the message of her Big, Achievable Goal:  to get millions of people worldwide to write letters of appreciation, so they can establish, enhance, and even rebuild their relationships and thus change their world. She reminds us that ~

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