We adults often forget we are not the only ones who are interested in the spiritual world. Recently I had a Mom bring her two young sons to me because they had begged their mom to let them have a past life reading to see if they had had any past lives together. Kudos to the mom and also kudos to the boys for being that interested and actually believing.
The boys were 13 and 9 years old. They were quite excited to hear what I could pick up for them. I found quite a few lives that they shared. One was a life where they were twin girls. Of course the 9 year old said, "OOO, I can't believe I was a girl." After I told him he had many lives as a girl, he accepted it. I saw many lives where they were together, lives when they were married to each other, lives when they were relatives, lives when they worked together, and lives when they were just friends. The nine year old wanted to know if he had ever been a knight. I couldn't see him in any life where he was a knight, but I did see his brother as one. He was quite disappointed until I told him I saw him in that same life as a metalworker who made the armour that his brother wore and the sword that he carried. He was thrilled to hear this. It seemed to make up for his not being a knight. It actually made them both happy, since the older boy loved the fact that he had been a knight.
It made me feel good that both boys were so interested in all I had to tell them. I was very impressed with their attention and the fact that they wanted to do this to begin with. I wish more children were this open to their spiritual life and on their spiritual journeys. There are great numbers of children here who are Indigos, Crystal children, Star children, Rainbow children, etc. These children have so very many talents of a spiritual nature, such as psychic abilities, telepathy, healing gifts, etc. and so often their parents don't understand and tell the children it is all in their imagination. It just confuses the children and makes them doubt themselves.
Thank heavens I realized this when my youngest daughter told me that the house where she had a sleepover the night before had a kindly spirit in the finished basement where the girls slept. His name was John and he was glad that she could see him. Or when her first boyfriend was killed on a motercycle. A few days after the accident, he came to my daughter to let her know that he would from then on be one of her guides. He also had a message for his mother although my daughter was not comfortable giving his mom the message since she didn't know her very well. She was afraid that his mom would think she was crazy. I was thrilled that she was not doubting her gifts.
My older daughter is also just as gifted in these things. They've both told me how glad they were to have me to talk to and understand.
If you know any children like this, support them. It's not their imagination. They are far beyond most adults in their abilities. I have heard it said that these children are born "cable ready" meaning they already have the talents needed to move on into the changes coming into the world soon. They are ready to help the world by using their gifts.
Thank you for letting me share this with you.
From Me 2 You Online,
Bonnie
Visit Bonnie's website at http://www.fromme2youonline.com/readers/Bonnie
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Monday, December 7, 2009
Another Story from Bonnie
I have a friend I have known for a very long time. I have always felt very inadequate around her. Sometimes, I even find myself feeling jealous of her. She is extremely talented in so many ways and I find myself wanting to be just like her. She's also seemed to have found her spiritual "power" before me, even though I had tried very hard and I wanted it very badly. I would call her almost every day to ask for answers to questions I couldn't seem to find myself. I came to rely on her insights, although they often didn't seem to resonate with me. I assumed she was "more" connected to Spirit than I, so I listened.
As time went on, I began to feel more connected myself, but my friend continued to give me information that was, as she said, "Right from the angels". Who was I to argue with the angels. One day she suggested I meet some of her spiritual friends. When I met them, I had a hard time being around them. Their energies were so negative, it almost made me physically ill. When she asked me how I liked her friends, I told her how I felt. She seemed stunned and started acting very strange. This was the first time I had ever questioned her and was secure enough to state my own opinion. The next day she called me and told me that she no longer wanted to see me or hear from me in anyway, ever again.
After spending a few days feeling very badly about the whole situation, I realized that her ego had gotten out of control and I was the one feeding it with my energy. She was what we call a 'spiritual vampire'. A few of her friends that I had met were also spiritual vampires and the others (like me) were the ones giving up their power to feed them. What an eye opener for me!!!
This was the beginning of my true spiritual growth and I realized I was really headed down my own path and being responsible for my self instead of trying to make others responsible for my feelings and actions. I feel so much better physically, mentally and spiritually. I now know that we are all very powerful beings and we don't need to steal someone else's power to make ourselves feel better about ourselves. Unfortunately, I had to pull away from long time friend because she continued to play the vampire. Yes, it's sad to loose a friend, but sometimes on our paths we must pass the ones who seem to be stuck and don't want our help in any way. They are on their own journey and will move forward when it is time for them to do so.
Thanks for letting me share my story and Thank You for sharing your time with me.
Bonnie
For more information and/or stories, please visit my website at http://www.fromme2youonline.com
Thank you again.
As time went on, I began to feel more connected myself, but my friend continued to give me information that was, as she said, "Right from the angels". Who was I to argue with the angels. One day she suggested I meet some of her spiritual friends. When I met them, I had a hard time being around them. Their energies were so negative, it almost made me physically ill. When she asked me how I liked her friends, I told her how I felt. She seemed stunned and started acting very strange. This was the first time I had ever questioned her and was secure enough to state my own opinion. The next day she called me and told me that she no longer wanted to see me or hear from me in anyway, ever again.
After spending a few days feeling very badly about the whole situation, I realized that her ego had gotten out of control and I was the one feeding it with my energy. She was what we call a 'spiritual vampire'. A few of her friends that I had met were also spiritual vampires and the others (like me) were the ones giving up their power to feed them. What an eye opener for me!!!
This was the beginning of my true spiritual growth and I realized I was really headed down my own path and being responsible for my self instead of trying to make others responsible for my feelings and actions. I feel so much better physically, mentally and spiritually. I now know that we are all very powerful beings and we don't need to steal someone else's power to make ourselves feel better about ourselves. Unfortunately, I had to pull away from long time friend because she continued to play the vampire. Yes, it's sad to loose a friend, but sometimes on our paths we must pass the ones who seem to be stuck and don't want our help in any way. They are on their own journey and will move forward when it is time for them to do so.
Thanks for letting me share my story and Thank You for sharing your time with me.
Bonnie
For more information and/or stories, please visit my website at http://www.fromme2youonline.com
Thank you again.
Friday, October 16, 2009
I don't Mind and It don't Matter
Every day I get new insights about CHOICES-and they always fall into one or more of the following categories: doing, saying, thinking, acting on, considering, ignoring, making, feeling, reacting/not reacting, responding/not responding....and hundreds more I have or haven't actively or consciously explored.
A little more than twenty years ago I was diagnosed with Fibromyalgia-an auto-immune disorder that attacks the body's muscles and connective tissues. During a really severe exacerbation, I am literally bed-ridden for days, weeks, or even months at a time with muscle spasms, extreme fatigue, listlessness, sleeplessness, and the overall feeling of having a bad case of Flu with vast areas of the body screamingly painful and tender to touch; even the hair on my head seems to rebel if a comb or brush comes within close proximity, threatening to inflict torture. Without going into detail on the research and diagnostic suppositions regarding this disease, I'll simply say-IT'S NASTY! Thankfully, the debilitating episodes have become less frequent during this past year and major complaints have been limited to bouts of fatigue, muscle aches & spasms with tenderness and some limited mobility for shorter periods of time (days, rather than weeks or months), allowing me to function easier on a daily basis. I still have Fibro, but it doesn't have Me....at least not ALL the time. And, it's become more of a “mind over matter” thing...I “mind” and it still “matters”, but my conscious functionality is at a higher level.
So, where am I going with all this? About three weeks ago my husband and I returned home following a 2 month vacation driving up and down the West coast, going as far north as Victoria, BC. It was the first vacation time we had taken in 3 years because of his past ill health and it was time to “celebrate life”, so to speak. I did most of the driving and ALL of the trip planning and looked at it as a joyful challenge-most of the time. And here's the odd thing.....in spite of all the hours in the car, sleeping in beds I wasn't used to, hiking or taking long walks (sometimes as many as 7-9 miles in a single day while sightseeing)on all types of terrain, packing and unpacking, hoisting luggage and bags in and out of the car, and commuting on various forms of public transportation as a very active tourist, I never once experienced an entire day totally debilitated with a Fibro flare up. What's up with THAT? Why is it that doing normal household routines, or shopping at the grocery store, or running mundane errands, or sweeping the carport, or cooking a meal and doing dishes afterward can wipe me out and send me scrambling to the medicine cabinet for pain relief, a muscle relaxant, or something to help me sleep?
Mindset and choices-that's what it's all about. Now, I'm not saying that I didn't have some aches and pains and a little trouble sleeping during my vacation-I DID; however, the difference is that I clearly chose to set the physical feelings of discomfort aside and ENJOY the positive aspects of what was going on around me and what I was experiencing. And, I chose to immerse myself in the joy of my experiences, rather than in the possible negative consequences of exceeding my energy levels by saying to myself, “I may be overdoing it right now, but it's so worth it!” As a tool to keep me going I hung my camera around my neck and rarely experienced a day without it. I took thousands of pictures to capture the amazing moments we shared and the ones I experienced on my own. And now, as I review them and sort through them I have a another way to remind myself that I HAVE THE POWER to feel however I choose to feel on any given day at any given moment, for any amount of time. And THAT makes any aches, pains, fatigue, or hint of negativity that wants to attack me all the more worthwhile. It's a question of “Mind Over Matter'-I Mind and IT Matters.
Thank you all for letting me share my thoughts with you. Please send me your comments and for further information, please feel free to contact me at my website: www.fromme2youonline.com.
Sincerely,
Laurie Jo
A little more than twenty years ago I was diagnosed with Fibromyalgia-an auto-immune disorder that attacks the body's muscles and connective tissues. During a really severe exacerbation, I am literally bed-ridden for days, weeks, or even months at a time with muscle spasms, extreme fatigue, listlessness, sleeplessness, and the overall feeling of having a bad case of Flu with vast areas of the body screamingly painful and tender to touch; even the hair on my head seems to rebel if a comb or brush comes within close proximity, threatening to inflict torture. Without going into detail on the research and diagnostic suppositions regarding this disease, I'll simply say-IT'S NASTY! Thankfully, the debilitating episodes have become less frequent during this past year and major complaints have been limited to bouts of fatigue, muscle aches & spasms with tenderness and some limited mobility for shorter periods of time (days, rather than weeks or months), allowing me to function easier on a daily basis. I still have Fibro, but it doesn't have Me....at least not ALL the time. And, it's become more of a “mind over matter” thing...I “mind” and it still “matters”, but my conscious functionality is at a higher level.
So, where am I going with all this? About three weeks ago my husband and I returned home following a 2 month vacation driving up and down the West coast, going as far north as Victoria, BC. It was the first vacation time we had taken in 3 years because of his past ill health and it was time to “celebrate life”, so to speak. I did most of the driving and ALL of the trip planning and looked at it as a joyful challenge-most of the time. And here's the odd thing.....in spite of all the hours in the car, sleeping in beds I wasn't used to, hiking or taking long walks (sometimes as many as 7-9 miles in a single day while sightseeing)on all types of terrain, packing and unpacking, hoisting luggage and bags in and out of the car, and commuting on various forms of public transportation as a very active tourist, I never once experienced an entire day totally debilitated with a Fibro flare up. What's up with THAT? Why is it that doing normal household routines, or shopping at the grocery store, or running mundane errands, or sweeping the carport, or cooking a meal and doing dishes afterward can wipe me out and send me scrambling to the medicine cabinet for pain relief, a muscle relaxant, or something to help me sleep?
Mindset and choices-that's what it's all about. Now, I'm not saying that I didn't have some aches and pains and a little trouble sleeping during my vacation-I DID; however, the difference is that I clearly chose to set the physical feelings of discomfort aside and ENJOY the positive aspects of what was going on around me and what I was experiencing. And, I chose to immerse myself in the joy of my experiences, rather than in the possible negative consequences of exceeding my energy levels by saying to myself, “I may be overdoing it right now, but it's so worth it!” As a tool to keep me going I hung my camera around my neck and rarely experienced a day without it. I took thousands of pictures to capture the amazing moments we shared and the ones I experienced on my own. And now, as I review them and sort through them I have a another way to remind myself that I HAVE THE POWER to feel however I choose to feel on any given day at any given moment, for any amount of time. And THAT makes any aches, pains, fatigue, or hint of negativity that wants to attack me all the more worthwhile. It's a question of “Mind Over Matter'-I Mind and IT Matters.
Thank you all for letting me share my thoughts with you. Please send me your comments and for further information, please feel free to contact me at my website: www.fromme2youonline.com.
Sincerely,
Laurie Jo
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Obsessiveness VS Choice
When is a behavior NOT a form of obsessive compulsiveness, but rather a matter of choice?
I'd like to think that, on the most part, I'm pretty good at controlling obsessive behaviors. Once in a while I even manage to recognize a potentially obsessive behavior before I give in to it. This can be especially helpful if acting on the behavior would, as a resulting consequence, cause excessive physical discomfort. After all, why would any of us intentionally want to harm ourselves, right?
My husband and I bought a house 2 years ago that had been previously occupied for 3 years. Everything about it was perfect, except for one thing; I don't think the previous owner had EVER washed the kitchen floor. I believed he must have swept it, but that was the extent of his kitchen floor cleanliness. The fact that he had been a very heavy smoker only added to the depth of its grime. Here's the thing. I have washed the floor many times and thought I had been cleaning it...REALLY! What I hadn't realized was that the floor was actually a light ivory patterned linoleum-not tan and dark beige! I take full responsibility for being a non-observant idiot and as a result had committed myself to doing something about it, once I discovered the horror that lay under my feet.
To make a long story short, I tried everything imaginable and even cleaning techniques sworn to work by others. I talked to a girlfriend who was, in my opinion, the Queen of Clean, having run her own cleaning service for years. I bought what she told me would work the best, with “no problem”. Even the guy at the hardware store told me it was a “sure fire wonder” and to be careful not to use too much, since it may take the no wax shine off the original finish. I even bought a shine restorer, just in case. I was loaded for bear and armed with a new mop, ready to take on the task of renewing my 11'x16' kitchen floor with vigor and enthusiasm.
After the first application and subsequent clear water rinse, there was NO noticeable difference. I thought, “OK, I'll try again with a stronger solution mix and leave it on a little longer before mopping.: NADA! NOTHING! ZILCH! What the H...? I committed to trying it again and using a scrub brush along with the mop to help scrub away the grime. I felt like Lady Macbeth who couldn't get the blood off her hands! I was a Mad woman with a purpose who couldn't stop. After 4 hours of intense physical labor I was frustrated and not wanting to admit defeat. The sweat was literally dripping from my brow and I was for all intense and purposes a MESS and so was the mop-it was shredded, and the floor didn't look much better!
On my way to the store to buy a new mop to finish the job, I called my friend Bonnie, who often submits articles for this “I Believe” blog and who is extremely insightful about human behavior and why people do what they do. She listened patiently as I ranted on and on about my new “obsession” , interjecting my one-sided conversation with myself with words like, “I don't know WHAT it's all about, it's so weird...” and “Why aren't I falling flat on my face with exhaustion rather than feeling almost manic with energy?” When I finally took a breath and came up for air, she simply said, “It's not about being obsessive with getting the floor clean-it's about YOU and needing to clean some things up in your life.” WOW! I didn't see THAT coming! Well, maybe I actually did-but chose to ignore the possibility that I had some serious stuff to work on about myself.
When our conversation came to an end, I realized that while we were talking I actually bought the mop, committed to “finishing” what I had started. Oh CRAP! Maybe I really was having an obsessive compulsive breakdown. Choices. At that moment I chose to think of the experience as “continuing” the first step of self help cleanup. In fact, I even told myself that it didn't all have to be done in the same day and I committed to taking a break for a day or two before attacking the task with renewed vigor and purpose.
Looking back at yesterday's frenetic activities and last night's decision to curl up on the couch with some relaxing music and a cold Key lime Pie Martini before taking a hot lavender bath and calling it a night was definitely a wise choice. When I woke up refreshed this morning and headed to the kitchen for a cup of coffee there was the mop and bucket right where I had left it. AND, it's still there! Tomorrow is another day for another challenge. And I will face it with the realization that “it's just a floor and I'm bigger than any 11'x16' piece of territory on ANY day! YEAH!”
In the meantime, I'm spending my emotional energy on sorting through what it is that I need to work on with MYSELF. It may take some time, but the choice is mine to take. Who knows? Maybe the next time I feel a bit compulsive and manic I will channel it into something more exotic like preparing a complicated French recipe. Julia Childs, look out!
Thank you for letting me share my thoughts with you. I hope I have given you some insights and food for thought. Let me know if you have had similar experiences or if you wish to comment, please let me hear from you.
From Me 2 You Online,
Laurie Jo
I'd like to think that, on the most part, I'm pretty good at controlling obsessive behaviors. Once in a while I even manage to recognize a potentially obsessive behavior before I give in to it. This can be especially helpful if acting on the behavior would, as a resulting consequence, cause excessive physical discomfort. After all, why would any of us intentionally want to harm ourselves, right?
My husband and I bought a house 2 years ago that had been previously occupied for 3 years. Everything about it was perfect, except for one thing; I don't think the previous owner had EVER washed the kitchen floor. I believed he must have swept it, but that was the extent of his kitchen floor cleanliness. The fact that he had been a very heavy smoker only added to the depth of its grime. Here's the thing. I have washed the floor many times and thought I had been cleaning it...REALLY! What I hadn't realized was that the floor was actually a light ivory patterned linoleum-not tan and dark beige! I take full responsibility for being a non-observant idiot and as a result had committed myself to doing something about it, once I discovered the horror that lay under my feet.
To make a long story short, I tried everything imaginable and even cleaning techniques sworn to work by others. I talked to a girlfriend who was, in my opinion, the Queen of Clean, having run her own cleaning service for years. I bought what she told me would work the best, with “no problem”. Even the guy at the hardware store told me it was a “sure fire wonder” and to be careful not to use too much, since it may take the no wax shine off the original finish. I even bought a shine restorer, just in case. I was loaded for bear and armed with a new mop, ready to take on the task of renewing my 11'x16' kitchen floor with vigor and enthusiasm.
After the first application and subsequent clear water rinse, there was NO noticeable difference. I thought, “OK, I'll try again with a stronger solution mix and leave it on a little longer before mopping.: NADA! NOTHING! ZILCH! What the H...? I committed to trying it again and using a scrub brush along with the mop to help scrub away the grime. I felt like Lady Macbeth who couldn't get the blood off her hands! I was a Mad woman with a purpose who couldn't stop. After 4 hours of intense physical labor I was frustrated and not wanting to admit defeat. The sweat was literally dripping from my brow and I was for all intense and purposes a MESS and so was the mop-it was shredded, and the floor didn't look much better!
On my way to the store to buy a new mop to finish the job, I called my friend Bonnie, who often submits articles for this “I Believe” blog and who is extremely insightful about human behavior and why people do what they do. She listened patiently as I ranted on and on about my new “obsession” , interjecting my one-sided conversation with myself with words like, “I don't know WHAT it's all about, it's so weird...” and “Why aren't I falling flat on my face with exhaustion rather than feeling almost manic with energy?” When I finally took a breath and came up for air, she simply said, “It's not about being obsessive with getting the floor clean-it's about YOU and needing to clean some things up in your life.” WOW! I didn't see THAT coming! Well, maybe I actually did-but chose to ignore the possibility that I had some serious stuff to work on about myself.
When our conversation came to an end, I realized that while we were talking I actually bought the mop, committed to “finishing” what I had started. Oh CRAP! Maybe I really was having an obsessive compulsive breakdown. Choices. At that moment I chose to think of the experience as “continuing” the first step of self help cleanup. In fact, I even told myself that it didn't all have to be done in the same day and I committed to taking a break for a day or two before attacking the task with renewed vigor and purpose.
Looking back at yesterday's frenetic activities and last night's decision to curl up on the couch with some relaxing music and a cold Key lime Pie Martini before taking a hot lavender bath and calling it a night was definitely a wise choice. When I woke up refreshed this morning and headed to the kitchen for a cup of coffee there was the mop and bucket right where I had left it. AND, it's still there! Tomorrow is another day for another challenge. And I will face it with the realization that “it's just a floor and I'm bigger than any 11'x16' piece of territory on ANY day! YEAH!”
In the meantime, I'm spending my emotional energy on sorting through what it is that I need to work on with MYSELF. It may take some time, but the choice is mine to take. Who knows? Maybe the next time I feel a bit compulsive and manic I will channel it into something more exotic like preparing a complicated French recipe. Julia Childs, look out!
Thank you for letting me share my thoughts with you. I hope I have given you some insights and food for thought. Let me know if you have had similar experiences or if you wish to comment, please let me hear from you.
From Me 2 You Online,
Laurie Jo
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Do we choose to be Blind?
I believe that a lot of us, at some time or another during our lifetime, go through our days as if we were blind to the rest of the world. It's almost as if for whatever reason we were struck blind all of a sudden. I've felt this way at times when I either refused to “see” what was going on around me, or even “see” another's point of view. Sometimes I would slap my forehead and say something like-”Oops, I lost my awareness there for a while”; or, using the expression from the TV commercial for V8 juice, “I could have had a V8!”...that's one of my personal favorites and I've used it for years.
This past weekend I received one of the Netflix movies, Blindness, I had put in my que at the beginning of the summer. I don't know if any of you have seen it, but it looked intriguing and I like the actors in it (especially Julianne Moore, Mark Ruffalo and Danny Glover). It started out interestingly enough with various characters being suddenly struck “blind” seeing a white light, rather than black darkness, and the initial choice of characters to be stricken were curiously selected. Mark Ruffalo played an Opthamologist, for example. I started to look for contrasts and similarities in their personalities and was becoming quite philosophical and even psychological about the strategic selections made by the writers as to whom would become blind. I took it a step further and put myself in Julianna Moore's character, who was the ONLY protagonist in the cast of characters (other than the government people – isn't THAT interesting?) ” amongst the hundreds who were sharing a government controlled prison-like, internment camp hospital environment who could actually “see”. She had chosen to accompany her husband, played by Mark Ruffalo, when he was the first to be transported to the quarantine facility because she wanted to be supportive and to help him.
As the movie progresses, all sense of order breaks loose in the hospital. Moore continues to keep her sight a secret and tries to minimize the chaos to little avail. It is up to her to lead a group safely to the streets without getting shot by the government appointed guards who truly believe that physical contact with these people will inflict them with the blindness as well. On the most part, I think that a psychologist would have a full time practice analyzing the significance of each character's blindness (as well as those not blinded) and I'd almost be curious enough to read the case files or attempt an analysis of my own. But, in truth, I can't tell you how the movie ended-I did not choose to watch the ensuing chaos past the halfway point of the movie.
What does that say about me? Initially I felt it was because it was too depressing and I didn't need to put myself through that. Now, two days later, I'm thinking it was because it struck home on several levels (which was probably the point for making the movie in the first place, DUH!).
All my life I've been helping people – especially the last 3 years during my husband's health issues. All my life I've tried to be the practical “leader” in many situations that required making sense out of chaos. And, more times than I can count, I've tried to put a bandage on things that didn't look or feel right in the hopes that the negative stuff would disappear and “be all better” in a flash. Talk about turning a “blind eye” to life! Well, I've decided, at least for the next few days, I'm going to CHOOSE to keep my eyes open. Open to new ideas, new possibilities, new opportunities, new relationships, new surroundings, …..anything NEW and fresh I am welcoming into my life and making an agreement with myself to “see it” for what it is, on ANY level...as long as I allow myself to SEE!
I believe that BLINDNESS and/or losing even partial sight on physical and/or psychological levels, is all about making choices. We have the FREEDOM to choose how we want to live our lives every single second of every single day. The choices might be smaller or fewer for some than others, but even ONE choice is better than NO choice, and we all at least have one. Pick it! Choose it! Live it! That's my new mantra today.
Thanks you for letting me share my thoughts with you. I hope I have given you something positive to think about and something new to ponder.
From Me 2 You Online,
Laurie Jo
This past weekend I received one of the Netflix movies, Blindness, I had put in my que at the beginning of the summer. I don't know if any of you have seen it, but it looked intriguing and I like the actors in it (especially Julianne Moore, Mark Ruffalo and Danny Glover). It started out interestingly enough with various characters being suddenly struck “blind” seeing a white light, rather than black darkness, and the initial choice of characters to be stricken were curiously selected. Mark Ruffalo played an Opthamologist, for example. I started to look for contrasts and similarities in their personalities and was becoming quite philosophical and even psychological about the strategic selections made by the writers as to whom would become blind. I took it a step further and put myself in Julianna Moore's character, who was the ONLY protagonist in the cast of characters (other than the government people – isn't THAT interesting?) ” amongst the hundreds who were sharing a government controlled prison-like, internment camp hospital environment who could actually “see”. She had chosen to accompany her husband, played by Mark Ruffalo, when he was the first to be transported to the quarantine facility because she wanted to be supportive and to help him.
As the movie progresses, all sense of order breaks loose in the hospital. Moore continues to keep her sight a secret and tries to minimize the chaos to little avail. It is up to her to lead a group safely to the streets without getting shot by the government appointed guards who truly believe that physical contact with these people will inflict them with the blindness as well. On the most part, I think that a psychologist would have a full time practice analyzing the significance of each character's blindness (as well as those not blinded) and I'd almost be curious enough to read the case files or attempt an analysis of my own. But, in truth, I can't tell you how the movie ended-I did not choose to watch the ensuing chaos past the halfway point of the movie.
What does that say about me? Initially I felt it was because it was too depressing and I didn't need to put myself through that. Now, two days later, I'm thinking it was because it struck home on several levels (which was probably the point for making the movie in the first place, DUH!).
All my life I've been helping people – especially the last 3 years during my husband's health issues. All my life I've tried to be the practical “leader” in many situations that required making sense out of chaos. And, more times than I can count, I've tried to put a bandage on things that didn't look or feel right in the hopes that the negative stuff would disappear and “be all better” in a flash. Talk about turning a “blind eye” to life! Well, I've decided, at least for the next few days, I'm going to CHOOSE to keep my eyes open. Open to new ideas, new possibilities, new opportunities, new relationships, new surroundings, …..anything NEW and fresh I am welcoming into my life and making an agreement with myself to “see it” for what it is, on ANY level...as long as I allow myself to SEE!
I believe that BLINDNESS and/or losing even partial sight on physical and/or psychological levels, is all about making choices. We have the FREEDOM to choose how we want to live our lives every single second of every single day. The choices might be smaller or fewer for some than others, but even ONE choice is better than NO choice, and we all at least have one. Pick it! Choose it! Live it! That's my new mantra today.
Thanks you for letting me share my thoughts with you. I hope I have given you something positive to think about and something new to ponder.
From Me 2 You Online,
Laurie Jo
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Responsibility - It is all about ME and I am sorry!
Abbie, Ziva and Toni were all hot young chicks when they arrived in my life. I had made a decision to adopt and raise these little girls as it was something I had wanted to do for quite some time now. I realized it would be a challenge, as I was older and it would take more effort than I was used to, but I knew I had done it before so I felt there was no reason I couldn't do it again. After all, Doug and Alayna were here with me and had encouraged me to do this so, I would have help.
They were only a few days old when they arrived at our house and we spent hours thinking about what their names were going to be once we saw them. We decided on their names and then set about thinking about their sleeping quarters, what room they were going to occupy and how we were going to keep them warm and cozy. It was real important to keep them warm as they had been in an incubator and were accustomed to a constant temperature and constant care since they were so little. Once we worked out their sleeping quarters we had to think about what to feed them and how to set up a schedule for their care.
Once they started growing up, we had to think about getting them their own room as they were getting too big for all of them to stay together in one small area, so Dough and I set about building them their own quarters. Once it was done, they moved in, and all the time I am thinking I have provided a wonderful place for them and they are loved and protected.
I came home today and decided to go see how they are doing only to find all three of them dead. It was a horrible discovery! Their heads were gone - their bodies open and desecrated. How could this possibly have happened? What could possibly have done this horrible thing? I may never know and it really doesn't matter because the deed has already been done and knowing what or who caused this will not change the fact that they are dead.
All I know is that we ARE responsible for everything that happens to us in our lives. I know that I did not protect them as well as I thought I had and because of that, my chickens are dead. It is something I will have to live with and so will the rest of my family.
Thank you for letting me share my grief with you.
From Me 2 You Online,
Laurie Brand
They were only a few days old when they arrived at our house and we spent hours thinking about what their names were going to be once we saw them. We decided on their names and then set about thinking about their sleeping quarters, what room they were going to occupy and how we were going to keep them warm and cozy. It was real important to keep them warm as they had been in an incubator and were accustomed to a constant temperature and constant care since they were so little. Once we worked out their sleeping quarters we had to think about what to feed them and how to set up a schedule for their care.
Once they started growing up, we had to think about getting them their own room as they were getting too big for all of them to stay together in one small area, so Dough and I set about building them their own quarters. Once it was done, they moved in, and all the time I am thinking I have provided a wonderful place for them and they are loved and protected.
I came home today and decided to go see how they are doing only to find all three of them dead. It was a horrible discovery! Their heads were gone - their bodies open and desecrated. How could this possibly have happened? What could possibly have done this horrible thing? I may never know and it really doesn't matter because the deed has already been done and knowing what or who caused this will not change the fact that they are dead.
All I know is that we ARE responsible for everything that happens to us in our lives. I know that I did not protect them as well as I thought I had and because of that, my chickens are dead. It is something I will have to live with and so will the rest of my family.
Thank you for letting me share my grief with you.
From Me 2 You Online,
Laurie Brand
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
A Question of Direction-When It's Time to Surrender
I believe that there are many people in this world who have built in radar, they were born being able to find their way, no matter where they are going in life. I especially believe this to be true when it comes to driving from one place to another. For some people, going from point “A” to point “B”, no matter how far or how many different routes have to be taken, is a no-brainer and as easy as snapping a finger. I am definitely not one of these fortunate people. As a matter of fact, I am quite certain that I was absent from school on the days that any form of navigation and maps was ever taught. I'm quite certain, although I've never been tested medically, that the part of my brain that can easily address the issues of navigation is totally missing. You can laugh at this or sympathize with me, but all I know is that getting hopelessly lost has been more the norm rather than the exception for most of my life-until recently. But I'm getting ahead of myself here.
I've always been fine with the basic concept of north, south, east, and west-at least when I looked at an atlas of the whole world. But if somebody giving me directions says, for example, “When you get to street “A” , turn east and drive to point “B”, then go north.” Not only would my eyes glaze over, but I would actually start to hyperventilate and tears would well up in my eyes as I started to look for the nearest escape from the crazy person trying to give me impossible directions that I had tuned out the minute he or she mentioned the word “east”. How could I admit that the only way I could handle any form of direction was to be told to go to a certain street, turn left or right, then to another street or road, then turn left or right, etc., without sounding totally like the moron I truly was? Often were the times that I would just say “thank you”, move on, and then look for somebody else to help me. When THAT didn't work, I would bite my tongue, take a breath and try to make a joke of it by saying, “I'm a bit navigationally challenged and don't do well with north, south, east, or west. Can you tell me to go either right or left?” The typical response (usually with what seemed a smile of pity), was, “Oh, sure. Let me draw you a map.” I would start to hyperventilate again before I managed to choke out, “No! Don't! I don't do maps either.” I knew what they were thinking....”What kind of idiot doesn't do maps?”
My mother, who has a perfect sense of direction and a photographic memory at 87 years old, used to tell me that I could get lost in a walk-in closet if it was big enough. I was quite certain she was right, which didn't help my problem any. But over my lifetime I have learned to accept my difficulties with navigation and have praised and applauded myself when I WOULD find my way from one place to another. I learned to allow myself a ridiculous amount of extra time before setting out for places unknown, and then pray I had allowed myself enough. If a journey seemed to far, I would make excuses for not accepting invitations if it meant I had to find my own way there, and then wallow in self-pity that I had to spend time all by myself rather than to accept the invitation. When I got married, I left the navigation to my husband and was so relieved that he didn't make fun of my lack of skills in this area. I think he realized that I had so many other redeeming qualities, (his words, not mine), why stress me out over it. That strategy worked for the first ten years of our marriage.
Three years ago I had to face my fears head on. He was hospitalized in a city we had never been in and would be unable to drive for 6 weeks. I had to find my way to and from the hospital from where I was staying with a friend, and then take him to all his different doctor appointments and rehab after he was discharged. It was time to surrender and let go of my fears. I forced myself to study maps of the area and to find alternate routes when construction would send me on detours. I did it through tears, frustration, anxiety, and triumph. I was woman, and you could hear me roar! A huge burden had been lifted from my shoulders and I could actually breathe normally when I asked for directions. I still got lost, but it didn't make me feel stupid anymore. I took on the challenges of navigation with great aplomb and sometimes even bragged to my closest friends that I hadn't got lost getting to their homes. I had surrendered big time and it felt wonderful!
When my husband suggested that we take a 2 month road trip to explore the West coast from top to bottom, I was excited to think that I would be planning the trip and doing all the navigating. I spent hours looking at maps and routes, and planning stops we would make. I went on the Internet to chart my course with Map quest and AAA and became obsessed with finding “just the right route” . My road atlas was so tattered and routes were so highlighted in yellow that I could barely read it anymore. This was a true sign I had evolved into a great navigator-right?
Just as I had finished with my lists of places to see, routes to take, and maps to use, my husband presented me with an early anniversary gift. With a smile from ear to ear he watched as I opened my gift. I was speechless as I stared at a Garmin GPS system. Why did I need this? I had already spent weeks planning our trip and was still basking in my ability to surrender my fears of getting hopelessly lost. Wasn't using a GPS cheating? Wouldn't it keep me from using my new-found skills as an accomplished navigator? I was staring at yet another form of surrender; AND, a whole lot of questions: how hard was it going to be to learn how to use it? How bad would I hurt his feelings if I said I really didn't need it? Could I use the GPS and the maps and lists I had so painstakingly made?
Here's the short version of what I did for 2 months on our road trip. I surrendered, AGAIN, to a certain extent. I consulted my map and lists for an overview of the trip as we went along. I used the GPS to calculate distance and time from one place to another and to direct me around bad roads and/or construction. When we needed a place to stay or eat, I used the incredible database to direct me (after consulting the Internet and my maps most of the time as well). It was also great for keeping me alert, since it had a great woman's voice that acted as a “driving pal”. I switched it to a man's voice when Jerry was driving so it didn't feel like another woman was telling him where to go...that was reserved for me, thank you very much!
I like to think, now, that surrendering isn't so bad after all. It's not easy, don't misunderstand that. But once you practice it over and over, it gets easier. A lot easier than stewing in your own juices and thinking that's the ONLY way to live. Trust me. I've been there...more times than I can even count. And I'm sure there will be many more times requiring my surrender in this lifetime....but what's the value of life and learning, without challenges?
Thank you for letting me share this part of my life with you.
From Me 2 You,
Laurie Jo
For more stories and information about Laurie Jo, please visit her website at: http://www.fromme2youonline.com.
I've always been fine with the basic concept of north, south, east, and west-at least when I looked at an atlas of the whole world. But if somebody giving me directions says, for example, “When you get to street “A” , turn east and drive to point “B”, then go north.” Not only would my eyes glaze over, but I would actually start to hyperventilate and tears would well up in my eyes as I started to look for the nearest escape from the crazy person trying to give me impossible directions that I had tuned out the minute he or she mentioned the word “east”. How could I admit that the only way I could handle any form of direction was to be told to go to a certain street, turn left or right, then to another street or road, then turn left or right, etc., without sounding totally like the moron I truly was? Often were the times that I would just say “thank you”, move on, and then look for somebody else to help me. When THAT didn't work, I would bite my tongue, take a breath and try to make a joke of it by saying, “I'm a bit navigationally challenged and don't do well with north, south, east, or west. Can you tell me to go either right or left?” The typical response (usually with what seemed a smile of pity), was, “Oh, sure. Let me draw you a map.” I would start to hyperventilate again before I managed to choke out, “No! Don't! I don't do maps either.” I knew what they were thinking....”What kind of idiot doesn't do maps?”
My mother, who has a perfect sense of direction and a photographic memory at 87 years old, used to tell me that I could get lost in a walk-in closet if it was big enough. I was quite certain she was right, which didn't help my problem any. But over my lifetime I have learned to accept my difficulties with navigation and have praised and applauded myself when I WOULD find my way from one place to another. I learned to allow myself a ridiculous amount of extra time before setting out for places unknown, and then pray I had allowed myself enough. If a journey seemed to far, I would make excuses for not accepting invitations if it meant I had to find my own way there, and then wallow in self-pity that I had to spend time all by myself rather than to accept the invitation. When I got married, I left the navigation to my husband and was so relieved that he didn't make fun of my lack of skills in this area. I think he realized that I had so many other redeeming qualities, (his words, not mine), why stress me out over it. That strategy worked for the first ten years of our marriage.
Three years ago I had to face my fears head on. He was hospitalized in a city we had never been in and would be unable to drive for 6 weeks. I had to find my way to and from the hospital from where I was staying with a friend, and then take him to all his different doctor appointments and rehab after he was discharged. It was time to surrender and let go of my fears. I forced myself to study maps of the area and to find alternate routes when construction would send me on detours. I did it through tears, frustration, anxiety, and triumph. I was woman, and you could hear me roar! A huge burden had been lifted from my shoulders and I could actually breathe normally when I asked for directions. I still got lost, but it didn't make me feel stupid anymore. I took on the challenges of navigation with great aplomb and sometimes even bragged to my closest friends that I hadn't got lost getting to their homes. I had surrendered big time and it felt wonderful!
When my husband suggested that we take a 2 month road trip to explore the West coast from top to bottom, I was excited to think that I would be planning the trip and doing all the navigating. I spent hours looking at maps and routes, and planning stops we would make. I went on the Internet to chart my course with Map quest and AAA and became obsessed with finding “just the right route” . My road atlas was so tattered and routes were so highlighted in yellow that I could barely read it anymore. This was a true sign I had evolved into a great navigator-right?
Just as I had finished with my lists of places to see, routes to take, and maps to use, my husband presented me with an early anniversary gift. With a smile from ear to ear he watched as I opened my gift. I was speechless as I stared at a Garmin GPS system. Why did I need this? I had already spent weeks planning our trip and was still basking in my ability to surrender my fears of getting hopelessly lost. Wasn't using a GPS cheating? Wouldn't it keep me from using my new-found skills as an accomplished navigator? I was staring at yet another form of surrender; AND, a whole lot of questions: how hard was it going to be to learn how to use it? How bad would I hurt his feelings if I said I really didn't need it? Could I use the GPS and the maps and lists I had so painstakingly made?
Here's the short version of what I did for 2 months on our road trip. I surrendered, AGAIN, to a certain extent. I consulted my map and lists for an overview of the trip as we went along. I used the GPS to calculate distance and time from one place to another and to direct me around bad roads and/or construction. When we needed a place to stay or eat, I used the incredible database to direct me (after consulting the Internet and my maps most of the time as well). It was also great for keeping me alert, since it had a great woman's voice that acted as a “driving pal”. I switched it to a man's voice when Jerry was driving so it didn't feel like another woman was telling him where to go...that was reserved for me, thank you very much!
I like to think, now, that surrendering isn't so bad after all. It's not easy, don't misunderstand that. But once you practice it over and over, it gets easier. A lot easier than stewing in your own juices and thinking that's the ONLY way to live. Trust me. I've been there...more times than I can even count. And I'm sure there will be many more times requiring my surrender in this lifetime....but what's the value of life and learning, without challenges?
Thank you for letting me share this part of my life with you.
From Me 2 You,
Laurie Jo
For more stories and information about Laurie Jo, please visit her website at: http://www.fromme2youonline.com.
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