Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Every Old Rock

This is true for me.
"A voice is constantly calling, Go forth unto nature and learn her great truths and lessons."
from The Sacred Symbols of Mu, James Churchward

"Every old rock, with its crinkly weathered face, every fossil, has its tale to tell; every leaf on tree and shrub whispers a story. The Universe, with its countless celestial bodies moving in perfect order and time, calls for observation and inspires a yearning to know the Source of all. All of these lessons are to be learned from nature to enable man in this life on the earth to prepare himself for the next step in his everlasting life."

Saturday, July 24, 2010

Flower in my Hair

Ok, so I went on a date today with the most charming male. He begged me to wear a flower in my hair, and me fifty! He told me that I was so pretty and I could tell that he really meant it.

He doesn't care a hoot that my waist is no longer little, nor my hair free of gray. I was a cheap date, we went to the corner store, I had a purple popcycle, his was orange. A little girl walked along beside us on the way home and I could tell she wished she was me. She hollared as we walked out of sight, "I love the flower in your hair!" Oh the joy of being Grandma! Yes my date was with my Grandson who is only three. ( :

Down in July




Blackberries and storm clouds and oppressive heat,
Humidity waving to me in my sleep,
between raindrops, steam vapors,
and the hopes that I keep.

On arising I kiss the earth and she kisses me back,
there is no greater joy to me than that.
To think that a part of me came from her sod,
Yet I mix with the wind and the dew and the morning fogs.

Humidity waves to the earth in her dreams,
as she hints at the secrets that she silently gleamed,
through raindrops and steam vapors down in July,
when blackberries, storm clouds and oppressive heat,
are the chores to be done before we sleep.

Thursday, July 22, 2010

(Part 3) Indigenous Native American Prophecy (Elders Speak part 3)

I swear my soul is Native American because I believe these people are right on.

July 22
The Lord is nigh unto them that are of a broken
heart; and saveth such as be of a contrite spirit.
Many are the afflictions of the righteous: but the
Lord delivereth him out of them all. Psalm 34:18,19 A just man falleth seven times, and riseth up
again. Proverbs 24:16

IF at any time we find we have taken a wrong
course which is irretrievable, we may expect it to
bring the disappointments as the Lord has foretold:
but He may permit it to bring, as well, some blessings
in the way of contrition of heart, and humility toward
the Lord, and greater zeal, watchfulness and faithfulness
for the future. Thus even some of the blunders of
life may become stepping-stones to higher planes of grace
and truth.

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

Lessons from the Light

"We are given the tools and materials for what will be our soul growth on the earth, and it is up to us to make of them what we will. Some take these life experiences and build out of them something constructive and lasting. Others collapse under the weight of that burden and walk away, bitter and miserable, having learned or accomplished nothing." " It is up to us either to build from the wreckage of loss or walk away broken and hopeless." from George Anderson's Lessons from the Light.

I cannot say that I have never collapsed!

Saturday, July 17, 2010

The Anchor- 1

One day at a rough part in my road of life I was lead through a guided meditation. I was told to picture a tool that would help me. Immediately I saw, in my minds eye, an anchor. I was disappointed at what I had been given. Of what use to me was an anchor? I needed an axe or a sword or a hammer or a weed whacker! I needed something STRONG to fight the dark weeds crowding in around me. But instead I received an anchor, of what use was this? I really didn’t know anything about anchors except that they were something that one flopped down into the water, I couldn’t understand how this could help me.

Soon after that we visited a church. I had become interested in this church because, before I had ever laid eyes on it I had dreamed about it. And when I did see it there were wonderful messages on its sign, like,“ Jesus Speaks Here,” So there I was sitting on a curved wooden pew in a strange, dreamed of, church, with my family. I was enchanted by the beautiful stained glass windows that lined the polished wood walls. Sunlight streamed in all around us, making the place seem to reverberate with light.

I was pleasantly surprised to discover that the Rev. standing up before us was a lady. A lady with a very melodious voice that rang out loud and clear. The colors in her priest scarf matched the brilliant colors in the windows. I nestled into the antique setting that embraced us in that old brick sanctuary and I felt comfortable in my seat. It was my husband who brought to my attention the anchors that were in the stain glassed windows and after the service I asked someone what they symbolized. They replied that they represented being anchored in Christ. Of course! Bingo! Finally I got it! What would help me through the hard times was not instruments of destruction but being anchored, steady, firmly held down by his love. This would be the strength in my heart.

The Anchor

A Sunday soon after that in Silent Meeting, at the gathering over the mound, I shared my leadings about anchors. Afterwards an elderly lady who attends there said that it reminded her of an old song about being anchored in Jesus. Today she brought me a print of this song, titled, We Have an Anchor. She found it in an old hymnbook. I didn’t have time to read it before it was time for the quiet so I stuffed the paper into my purse and we entered the silence.

Five minutes into trying to clear our minds we heard someone come softly into the front door of the huge old house that the meeting is held in. There are many offices in the big, rambling two-story building. The Friends gathering is in one small back office, (our hypnotist’s office). The others kept on being quiet as I fought the urge to go and make sure that someone was not looking for us. I hated to disturb meeting if it was just people going some place else but the promptings prevailed, I got up, weaved through the circle and went out of the room as quietly as I could.

As I got to the end of the long hallway and looked to see who was going up the stairs I wished that I had listened to my own intuition sooner because I found the Rev. whose church we had been in with the anchors on the windows, going the wrong way and dragging her bad leg up those steep stairs.

I caught her before she went up too far. She told me that since she had known that we were going to be hosting the meeting that day she decided to pop in and visit us as we have visited her. I lead her back to the meeting room and we settled in with the rest of the group, who had kept the silence.

After some long deep breathing and attempts to abandon thoughts, I visualized Jesus. As he often is during meeting he stood waiting for me by a huge rock, a rock bigger then himself. I had always wondered what the rock represented and so this day I asked him and his reply was, “ I AM the Rock,”

I didn’t speak of this out loud but kept it to myself and meditated upon it. “The rock was always there, stood its ground. I flutter around like a butterfly but the rock is always in the same place and always in the same position. All that the butterfly has to do is to return to the rock and it will be there.
The other Friends and I shared a few things,
I loved the Rev’s discovery and comment at her first Quaker meeting,
“ It is good to be a human BE-ing instead of a human DO-ing.”
Soon the quiet time was over.

During the following forum among other conversations we read the anchor hymn and this part made me smile. It explained what Jesus had just brought to me.
“ Fastened to the Rock which can-not move, Ground-ed firm and deep in the Savior’s

“ We Have an Anchor

Will your anchor hold in the storms of life,
When the clouds unfold their wings of strife?
When the strong tides lift and the cables strain,
Will your anchor drift or firm remain?
We have an anchor that keeps the soul.
Steadfast and sure while the billows roll,
Fastened to the Rock which cannot move,
Ground-ed firm and deep in the Savior’s love.
It is safe-ly moored, `twill the storm with-stand,
For `tis well-secured by the Savior’s hand.
Tho’ the temp-pest rage and the wild winds blow,
Not an angry wave shall our bark o’er flow.

We have an anchor that keeps the soul. Steadfast and sure while the billows roll,
Fastened to the Rock which cannot move, Ground-ed firm and deep in the Savior’s love.
When our eyes be-hold thro’ the gath-‘ring night The city of gold, our harbor bright,
We shall an-chor fast by the heav’n-ly shore, With the storms all past for-ever-more.
We have an anchor that keeps the soul. Steadfast and sure while the billows roll, Fastened to the Rock which cannot move, Ground-ed firm and deep in the Savior’s love.

Words Pricilla J. Owens 1882
Music William Kirkpatrick, 1882

Hebrews 6;19 We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure.

Friday, July 16, 2010

An Impression of Good

Commentary by Pir-o-Murshid Inayat Khan:

"In order to awaken love and sympathy in our hearts, sacrifices must be made. We must forget our own troubles in order to sympathize with the troubles of others. To relieve the hunger of others we must forget our own hunger. Everybody is working for selfish ends, not caring about others, and this alone has brought about the misery in the world today. When the world is evolving from imperfection towards perfection, it needs all love and sympathy. Great tenderness and watchfulness is required of each one of us. The heart of every man, both good and bad, is the abode of God, and care should be taken never to wound anybody by word or act. We are only here in this world for a short time; many have been here before, and have passed on, and it is for us to see that we leave behind an impression of good."

Nature By Numbers

Nature by Numbers

"The moment one gives a close attention to anything,
even a blade of grass, it becomes a mysterious, awesome,
indescribably magnificent world unto itself."

~ Henry Miller

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Be the Light

I just finished watching a video about some of the wrongs going on in the world. I sighed, shook my head and whispered out load, "What can we do?" I opened up my fortune cookie from the Chinese meal that I just consumed and read, " It is better to light one small candle than to curse the darkness."

This message was especially potent for me. Anybody who knows me very well knows that I am constantly carrying on about The Light. I teach my Grandson the song, “ In this world of darkness we must be the light.” I write a blog titled Impressions named after the Impressionist Artists who blew the system with their impressions of light. I attend Quaker meetings where we share a belief that there is that of the light in everyone.

So now, in this time of great darkness, we have to let the light shine through us. I was watching the movie Heidi with my Grandson the other day and was struck by the hardships that this little girl had to live and how she brightened the world that she lived in by being her self through it all.

I think that is what we all have to do now, we are not just to sit in our bliss and forget what is happening in the world instead we can be fully aware of what is happening and how dark some of the corners really are and at the same time, shine, baby shine, shine with all that we got, be an instrument for light.

Saturday, July 10, 2010

The Door to Utopia

I signed up a few years to get a free writer’s newsletter put out by Hope Clark

Hope gives a beautiful collection of writing markets with each newsletter.
I was surprised when reading the latest newsletter to come across my own words. Hope features Katherine Hauswirth’s COME THROUGH THE BEAUTIFUL DOOR CONTEST which just happens to be the winning prompt by guess who, you know, me truly! "If you could go through a beautiful, mystical door which leads to a utopia where the most perfect life for you was suddenly possible, what would the door and the look like, what would it feel like and what would this door have opened up for you?"

The beautiful, mystical door is wide open for your interpretation--
create any kind of life you'd like and be generous with the details,
including how your soul and senses react. Deadline August 1, 2010.
$25 Visa gift card for the best essay or story submitted. Please
send entries to khauswirth@sbcglobal.net. The word count limit
is 1,000 words including title.
You don’t get to see that I wrote the quote until you go to Katherine’s blog but it was rewarding non-the-less to see my words taking wing.
Enter the contest will you? I cannot wait to read what you have to say in response to the door to utopia questions. What would Utopia be like for you?

On the Way

Friday, July 9, 2010


I went down the hill through the mist and the rain,
while the phlox swayed goodby from the garden’s edge.

There on gray, wood-post next to the creek, God’s heart burst out to me from a Wood Thrush’s breast and my mind laid its busy self, right down to rest.

One moment in the arms of Him who causes water and mist and birds to sing hymns.

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

The Legend and the Truth of Bumbleberries

As I brambled my my way through the years I eventually came upon a berry myth that intrigued me. While driving a back road I came to a sign that beckoned with a berry loaded sign that read, Bumbleberry Inn. Bumbleberry? Was this a berry I had overlooked? Crossing the threshold of the ivy covered tavern I met the inn-keepeer. He wove a story about how the bumbleberry can be gathered only during the dark of the moon and would not share the true identity of the mysterious berry in his bumbleberry pies.

Time went on and years passed by with the bumbleberry mystery always residing someplace in the back of my mind when one day I was looking through some very old cookbooks in my Grandmother's attic when I found something most interesting! Recipes for bumbleberry desserts. As I looked through many old books I found that the bumbleberry recipes were always a combinations of berries baked into a dessert with rhubarb.

So, a bumbleberry creation was a mixture of berries and rhubarb, but why did they name it bumbleberry? Where did the bumble come in? Why was it like bumblebee and not honeyberry, like honeybee? I kept researching and inquiring, but it seemed nobody knew the answer to my bumbleberry queries.

It was in the most natural way that the answer came. My husband and I were selling our produce and flowers at the farm market when a bumblebee decided to visit us. We watched as the bee wandered from flower to flower. My husband, beekeeper, remarked that the honeybee is focused in her search for nectar and will return to the same source until she has expired it. Not so the bumblebee.

The bumblebee will saunter about, bumbling into and visiting with this flower and that flower. As my husband shared this bit of information with me a light bulb went off in my head. Of course! A recipe using a blend of fruit was named bumbleberry because of the bumblebee’s habit of mixing flowers. A bumblebee visits a variety of flowers so a bumbleberry recipe contains a mixture of fruits.

Thursday, July 1, 2010


Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth; for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. Rev 21 1