http://www.photoblink.com/images/c23/im/pb203888.jpg

children do it best

until they forget

and remember we can remember any time

with our bodies.

just surrender to the joy available

through the body

in the environment

today

right now.

a pleasure

like the ecstasy of God

is with us always

every moment

right inside our membrane of skin.

it’s life.

it’s the body.

blessings….

from a hot day in San Carlos.

Stumbling through the internet after watching a little CNN news, I found this photo. It’s bold and strong. At first glance I thought of the rummy rock music “addicted to love” Robert Plant kind of thinking. Then I thought about the image as one side of a communication. Hmmm. The real movement in this communication - comes next - in the viewers’ choice of action.  The viewer could choose to walk away from an “addicted” kind of love. At least the person with the sign - is letting it be known. Does the viewer like the idea of someone addicted to them? Our response says it all.

…Hmmm. How often we save others from having to make bold decisions - by restraining the bold truth from them. Hmmm. I wonder how much bold truth I need to expose - so the “viewers” of my life - can exercise bold decisions.

Hmmm. exposing our weaknesses - is actually - an exercise of strength.

The “POD” arrives Friday. Crew help Saturday and Sunday. 12 foot Penske drives my stuff away to a 700 Square Foot Hacienda in San Carlos on Monday - to be unpacked Tuesday - before my presentation Wednesday.
The “POD”gets delivered to storage until Les can move into his Pebble Beach home on the 8th of May.

It’s been 8 years since I’ve wanted to work in the bay area - and finally - a company who has the heart and purpose that I can “get behind”. . .is dancing with expectation. A career reboot. Warmth buzzes through me.

So here I am - boxes all around - and tired from packing till 3:30 am - and rebooting myself at 8:30 am.
The jacuzzi beckons; a long stare across the Monterey horizon, filtered silver-moonlight shimmering in icicle water.
Tomorrow I’ll be visiting UPS to send precious art pieces to my sons in Oregon & Washington. Portraits of them as children - that their father (now deceased) created from pictures I took of them - over 25 years ago.

Tomorrow I’ll be pack, pack, packing. Sorting, letting go, letting go, and letting go again, even more, and finally, just letting go.
Letting go - leaves room for so much more to flow through me. Finally, the phoenix is rising, again.

As the earth turns toward the sun - this spring equinox if you will - it seems to be tipping everyone into change.

Is there anyone not feeling the momentum for change?

I’m in the mental space - where I am excited about changes - the opportunity and the unknown - and yet - have to go through the mundane efforts - to create the change.

Moving again - this time - full circle it seems - back to a beginning - again - for the second time - in the Silicon Valley.

As if a giant wheel of transformation has returned to the beginning - a decade and two years later.

A new cycle is beginning. I search my electronic library (the web) to refresh my awareness for the journey ahead. So there’s much to share - quick little refreshments - to support the momentum for change.

Jack Ricchiuto on the Four Truths & Lies

Now, to get to the work of change…..

This is Wonder-Inspiring. Thanks  to Anthony White for sharing this delightful experience - conducted & filmed in Grand Central Station.

http://www.gadling.com/2008/02/01/best-prank-ever-stopping-time-at-grand-central-station/

Click on the link and see this music video http://www.dipdive.com

Then come back and read this - and share your thoughts.

We are approaching a cultivated tipping point: the sound of a nation being lead to hope.

Whether he becomes president or not Obama is revealing and cultivating - a nation-sized longing - to hope.

Hope is a primal force.

Hope funds dreams.

Hope is a fuel for passion.

Hope shapes destiny.

He is speaking our long-silenced dreams, rekindling hope, and inflaming our youth to believe.

But is it as simple as it sounds?

If someone can speak our dreams - can they also -lead us to those dreams?

Is not ‘falling in love’ also formed in the womb of hope?

America’s founding leaders and followers - were nurtured into the face of life and death decisions - by the passion of hope.

Gratefully, our leaders marshaled hope for the benefit of the people.

Not all leaders who understand the power of leading from hope - can (or want to) lead us to our dream.

Nevertheless we have music videos to depict this rare and beautiful time; this time of the rebirth of hope.

Dipdive.com in this music video captures a taste of the birth of hope.

So new to speaking about hope that we are like children who imitate the words of our parents.

This music video depicts that early stage of indoctrination - of breathing hope into - and drawing breath from - the heart of hope.

Here is a cacophony of voices mimicking “Obama’s Hope” .

I like how it ends.

May we find our voice for hope -

and may the courage to hope - and the will to dream -

thrive - no matter who wins the election.

Do you understand the poetry of Percy Shelley?

Ben has always been agile in understanding poetry and philosophy. Because he’s my son, I am always curious about what interests him. A few years ago, Ben gave me a purse-sized journal. Inside the front cover is a poem by Percy Shelley. Ben introduced the poem with these words: “This is my favorite poem.”

Poetry, it seems to me, is like Michelangelo explained his process of finding David in a stand of white marble. I’m taking literary liberty when I suggest that Michelangelo said he simply removed everything that wasn’t the form he was exposing. Sort of “freed” the sculpture of David from the Italian marble. The best poems - seem to free something in the reader too. This poem - that I found in the journal that Ben gave me - a few years ago - has freed something in me today. I wonder what it frees in Ben - and to you too. Why was it his favorite poem a few years ago?

I have several journals ongoing simultaneously. I write in this journal about 8-18 times a year. I think of it as a special moments journal. I’ve only filled the first quarter of the book - in the last few years! I imagine someday Ben will be reading this journal. I wanted to give him something worth spending his precious time reading. It’s not like the journals I use to sort out my thinking, or savor my feelings, or ponder a thought like starlight. No, this journal is my “Turning Points Journal”.

Turning Points: those moments in your life when we see life - as if we’d step out of the flow - and allow the impressions of the moment to shape us. Like a Monterey Pine Tree is shaped into poetic sculpture by the wind and moisture - we are shaped by the natural forces we encounter. Some forces we allow to shape us; some forces shape us unaware.

So today I picked up the Turning Points Journal - and prepared to write in it - and noticed Ben’s writing on the inside cover of the journal. I don’t remember seeing that poem before today. But I must have - and I must have forgotten it - someplace before the last turning point.

I wondered for quite a while - what this poem meant to Ben when he wrote it a few years ago - and what it might mean to him now. It’s a turning point moment for me - so I’ll add that to the turning point that brought me to the journal today.

What does this Percy Shelly poem say to you?

I met a traveller from an antique land who said, Two vast and trunkless legs of stone stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown and wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command, tell that it’s sculptor, well those passions read which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things. The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed; and on the pedestal these words appear

“My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings, look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!”

Nothing beside remains. Round the decay of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare, the lone and level sands stretch far away.

February 5th is approaching fast. I’m glad I’m not a registered Democrat. So few choices this year. Either a noble young leader, or an angry middle-aged, oft’ scorned woman, with a Machiavellian taste for achievement and power. In the end, our destiny is always about how our character responds to experience.

Ironically, Obama and Hilary are separately rich in what the other lacks. Obama needs a resume of experience. Hilary needs the character and mindfulness for noble leadership. Could we lock them in a room for a few months until they become one?

Obama lacks experience. Since when do we hire people to do jobs - who are junior - to the biggest leadership role in America. Could we have co-presidents please?

However, I admire what I perceive to be an indication of noble character in Obama. He doesn’t lose his cool. Not even when Hilary, screams or gets her husband to scream at (or about) Obama. Jeez! Hilary & Bill! Tsk. Tsk. Tsk.

It’s sad to watch candidates like Hilary (and her lackey, Bill) disgrace themselves.

Whether we’re talking about a family member or candidate for U.S. president - when people set out to destroy someone’s reputation in order to achieve personal gain - we’ve been warned. When we know how someone operates from their “shadow-side” it’s as if they’re transparent in the most useful way.

Seeing a person’s character is like seeing the blueprint of their operating system. Look at Hilary: overt anger about being more experienced than Obama; and covert action to obfuscate the noble character of her opponent.

It comes down to a bit of wisdom: “How you do anything is how you do everything.” If someone lies to destroy another’s reputation, what would they do to win a war?

Obama will need to surround himself with deep experience but that’s easy to find.

Hilary has been compensating for being “the scorned woman” far too long. Is it too late for Hilary to comprehend the power of humility, the grace that surrounds wise and noble leadership? Is it too late for Hilary to care?

Perfection aside, we humans are a fascinating species.

Photo from www.weblog.iprodev.net

Love and peace to you and yours.

The last thing I remember, is knowing there was nothing I should say, not now, maybe never. No matter how much I wanted to tear his world apart and shake him out of his belief that apathy is simply a’ good enough’ word for ‘denial of materialism”, I knew that he was not ready to listen. Like seeing someone you love on a rollercoaster headed for a swamp of misery - and you see them forgetting what it was like when things were better. Is it me I’m trying to save - from the agony of watching someone I love go “down”? Is it a faltering of faith that I’m experiencing? Sure, I should be able to trust and exercise faith that God is working in this person’s life - as God has in my own life. This person - with our prayers - will awaken and become fully emboldened by the infilling of God’s spirit - to say, do, and become what is necessary to restore dignity, health and well-being to his life. God help this be so.

I wanted to shake him awake or scream “You fool! Do you not see that you are letting your life pass away without even stepping into the stream? Do you see you are letting opportunities pass you by because you don’t want to experience failure? What on earth do you think will happen if you allow yourself to try something - and fail?”

I want to ask, “Can you imagine what you will do after you fail? Can you envision yourself getting up from defeat? Will you be laughing, giggling, grateful and silly with gladness that at least you got into the game; played hard and learned alot?” Or do you avoid effort toward goals - indeed - do you avoid goals - so you won’t have to feel - defeat?”

Defeat is simply another lesson in life. No need to be afraid of it. Embrace it. Get lots of defeat early and often. And keep the reality alive that yesterday is education, today is the playing field, tomorrow is inextricably linked to today. You are making tomorrow with your daily decisions. Avoiding opportunities will set you up for failure. Defeat visits the unprepared, the lonely, the self-absorbed. Let go and let flow the feelings that release your love, sadness, fears and failures. You owe it to yourself to care - when no one else knows how.

Some wise person once said, “The only failure is the failure to rise from defeat.”

Letting go - is freeing. Items that composed my sons child-to-adult-hood - are being collected in archival plastic bins as precious “time capsules”. I’m hoping these “time capsules” will reacquaint them with their early years - and help them see themselves even more clearly. It’s been clearing, instructive, painful, and strengthening to revisit, review, reconnect with, and be informed by these elements of our shared past. Questions about why we do what we do - are answered by some of these “findings.”Letting go of “stuff” is freeing.

a smooth easy friendship

as easy as moving with belugas

Are they ever wild again - after we train them to swim in-formation?

How many of us could say we become more creative under stress? Is it a choice or style or personality attribute? Well I just got a reminder that it could be all of those - and more. My entrepreneur friend speaks in poetry ~ even as she is graciously facing challenges of keeping a business going. Take a look at how she describes her state of being-in-stress in her email this morning.

… a bit stressful … so I’m ….. in the …..
“waiting, trusting, uh-oh slipped down, okay
trusting, knowing, that all is in divine order and
that this shall be resolved for the highest good of
all..kicking and screaming…..” mode.

I wonder what art, dance, and music would express or animate this passage she’s in now?

“To be - or not to be - that is the question…” Shakespeare was first quoted to me - in the third grade - when Father Gruza of Saint Charles Catholic School was about to hand my report card to me. “To be or not to be” he said. I knew even then - that I was unfinished.Amazing how we can be over 50 and be finishing ourselves. Recently, I found myself in the “parts-graveyard.” I hadn’t intended to go there…I found myself there…in a moment of trusting a body-worker’s guidance - to release - and let my attention follow the tension. Maybe tension is holding a tight space - while the piece that fell away - is lost. Is this mental basket-weaving? Maybe. Maybe not.

Something happened. Mystical maybe. Can’t find the details in the Sunday Paper - but something happened on that body-worker’s table. Is the body-mind integration process - akin to going to the parts graveyard? The parts of our selves that were tossed out the window - while going through life at 50 miles an hour? Did some parts of us that didn’t “fit” into our little view of how life is - or should be - did the part or parts - that didn’t fit those earlier conceptions - of what made success possible - did those parts get thrown out of our lives forever? Well…this body worker - brought back some memories - that reinstalled some perspective - that’s helping me now. Kind of like putting your brain on ice - for 30 years - then bringing it back into reality - thawing it out - and finding significant jewels of understanding. Life looks different when I love myself even more…and for even better reasons.

A couple of weeks ago I began working with Dr. S. This week I experienced what I call “memory-theater”… where the dark places are coming to life. Dr. S , a veritable shaman of the modern theater of life – American Carmel Valley style. A vastly capable lens of intention manifesting the healing that happens when our spiritual essence is unburdened – of memories –we’d already forgotten. What is that route I took – two decades ago – when I released those memories – that I thought were holding my emotions hostage. You know the clues. You mean to say yes – and something in you says no. You intend to be happy but you’re angry too. It’s not that you want black and white – a rainbow of colors is a great way to experience life – and black and white sometimes too.

But hey! Memories denied are like living on the street – and wondering when your luck will change. In order to change my neuro-emotional experience – I need to dance with the truth – bound up in the body.

Unwinding the muscles, sinew and bones, that’s what this is. And little did I realize 10 years ago that it just gets more interesting – if less dramatic – every time I visit the “zone of the forgotten.”

Dr. S. has an uncommon ability to manifest precise (chakra centered) memories that store “stuck energy”. The body-length spiral of rigid muscle pain is gone. Softened - I can actually feel and be aware of the inside of my body. Something thawed in me that day.

Can it be - that by releasing frozen memory the musculature can release too? Oh joy.

Laying on the warmed body-worker’s table – I heard prayers - and a series of beautiful music - inviting my soul and spirit to release. The music from the CD boom box & speakers - were like a ’symphony for sorrow. Then ‘a lyrical shamanic female voice soaring from a cathedral in England, seeping through time, stirred my attention inward.

MORE TO COME

The feeling of serenity in the midst of longing.

Joining in the magic of “just being alive”

In the forest - moonlight is for the soul - the spirit - and the heart - to express.

Wolves howling.

Are they showing us the song of the deep heart?

Howling hearts.

Isn’t it a gift to have someone tell you - that your view of “how things work” needs adjustment?

Sometimes the best we can hope for in life - is a friend, colleague, coach, consultant, or stranger to tell us the truth.

Recently, a coaching client signed up for the truth.

This is a competent and respected professional - who has responsibility for millions in company assets, and thousands of human career and lifestyle aspirations.

This man had done what so many have accepted as “the right world view”. He based his worth on his competence in making money for the company and himself. As he was now in his early 50’s, he was beginning to ask the predictable question, “IS this all there is?”

I’ve been there. I’ve done that.

I guess that’s the great part about being willing to admit our mistakes; we’ve got something to give to the folks who come along in those same paths. Those paths that come up short.

Fortunately, he was reaching that age-of-wisdom where the adulations of ego are less satisfying than daily peace of heart and mind.

He sought in me - someone to tell him the truth - rather than someone to make him feel good about the illusions he’d created. I’m grateful for my work - every single day. And it’s moments like this man shared with me today - that assure me - my work is worth much more than money.

This morning I got an email from him - letting me know - he sees his life - his work and his responsibility as an opportunity for others - not just an opportunity for getting rich and being famous. He sees his life two degrees differently.

He said it best, “Our conversation was unexpected and painful - but not as painful as the embarrassment of losing a business would have been - if I hadn’t been willing to hear you. You showed me how untethered I’ve been. No wonder my turnover rates (in employees) has been climbing. You gave me a black and white reality check. I’ve got a lot of work ahead of me - to turn this ship a few degrees - to get on course for a different future. (….) It took alot of courage and perseverence to get that painful truth into my head. But afterwards I saw - it was the kind of “truth” I really needed - because it was the only “truth” I didn’t want. Thanks.”

I love my work.

Of course, it isn’t always this way. Most people aren’t ready to see how their attitude, beliefs, values, intentions and lack of spiritual grounded-ness - is effecting their career, family and lifestyle.

My work takes every client, every person, to the edge of their own comfort zone - and invites them to look - with safety - at the causes and effects of the world view from which they operate. My work is about bringing people to the threshold of choice.

I love my work.

Fiddler on the Roof is on Public Television tonight. I’ve been watching since the first few minutes. It’s running without interruptions; no commercials. Just like it was in the movie theaters in the early 70’s. Tradition was crumbling then, too.

Life checks our ability to keep balance, through all the change and uncertainty.

The Fiddler keeps joy in the mix, no matter what is going on.

Tevye and his band of citizens in the little village of Anatevya (?), they keep God in the center of all.

How much heartache we can take when faith in God is guiding our response to life.

I’m looking forward to seeing and listening to Dr. Philip Zimbardo talk about his new book, “The Lucifer Effect, Understanding How Good People Turn Evil,” this evening at C.S.U.M.B. (And lo! It’s free). The promotion says, “Philip Zimbardo presents a summary of the social-psychological (situational) elements of evil-making in his book, “The Lucifer Effect.” I first learned of Zimbardo and his famous Stanford prison experimentsduring my Clinical and Social Psychology undergraduate work at the University of Wisconsin. Zimbardo’s legendary work at Stanford in the 1970’s explored how evil can overcomes us - given the right situations.

Zimbardo is a gigantic figure in the field of social-psychology - and a playful inquiring man. Reading what the scientific world is saying about this book gives me the impression he’s just as vibrant as he was 40 years ago.

My View

I look at the subtle ways I/we facilitate (contribute to the possibility of) evil in my/our everyday lives. Little mindless decisions, petty indulgence in selfishness, insensitive lack of etiquette, and turning the other way - when subtle wrongs occur. Little decisions of incivility diminish the quality and dim the value of good character. Soon we become politically correct so as to socialize the evil of “looking the other way.” Confronting evil becomes uncivilized. Standing up for our own character values requires courage and stamina.

Civilized evil is as seductive as slipping into a moral fog while we’re sleeping. When we awaken - and wonder how it all got so bad - we’re too deeply into the fog to find our way out. Only a critical paradigm break will shake extract us from the slippery slope of evil masquerading as adolescent minds justifying as ignorance does: “Everyone’s doing it. It’s what we do. It’s okay.”

Little Moments - of Unchecked Insensitivity

Like the erosion of a mountain, or the degradation of our most tender and personal psychological needs, a way for evil can happen when the subtle erosion of hope begins. Can we be aware when we (or other people) subtly or overtly dismiss our emotional needs? Can we smell the burning platform of evil on the move when children are restrained from becoming familiar with the hope, faith and love that comes from God?

Do we know how we harden the hearts of people? Let’s look. Or maybe it hurts too much, too look.

I think a way is made for evil - in the small acts - of insensitivity. Callous people rip up the heart of good people. A runway for evil is laid where hope is frustrated - in children or adults. Evil people and insensitive acts from family and friends erode our ability to know and trust ourselves. When people keep changing the rules and rewards, children and adults alike, need to learn to leave the evil person - not themselves. These are only my thoughts tonight, before I read “The Lucifer Effect.”

I’m interested in the subtle ways we parents, partners, spouses, friends, and co-workers encourage or undermine goodness and make a “way” for evil to enter. I think evil lives in cold hearts. Cold hearts become dark hearts and closed minds. Ignorance and unmet emotional needs are like the weather that keeps the heart dark and the mind closed. I fear to learn the ways we hardened people’s hearts. Those moments we speak from narcissistic insecurity, insensitivity and selfishness, I recognize as evil .

Ah, but first - we must know the potential for evil. I look forward to Zimbardo’s book and speech tomorrow. I read that he is now studying heroism. The the character of heroism. Thank you God.

–

Ironically, I’m listening to Ken Burn’s monumental documentary of WWII on PBS while writing about Philip Zimbardo’s exploration into the roots of evil in otherwise good people. How do good men go to war and come back good people? Do they become temporarily evil - and return to good? Do some remain evil? Do good people who cannot become evil temporarily - get killed more often than those who can sustain evil - in the midst of evil? Zimbardo knows - as social psychologists have benefited from his work. It’s SITUATION that facilitates evil. War - is an evil situation.

_____“I have only made this letter longer because I have not had the time to make it shorter.” Blaise Pascal, (1623-1662) Lettres provinciales._____

Lately I get up from the desk and realize I’ve been focused on a particular writing or communication ten times longer than I’d anticipated. I completely lose track of time! And in the end - if the length of my writing pieces - were weighed in the number of words per minute spent writing - I’d be a pauper. Ahhhh!

I’ve been writing cover letters, projects proposals, ideas for new projects, description of my experience - that qualifies me to manager or foster a project, introducing myself and why the reader should bother to read my words. I’ve been writing minutes of a recent board meeting, following up spontaneous colleague meetings or casual discussions. It takes me MUCH longer than my critical thinking mind anticipates it “should” - to finally push the “Send” or “Publish” or “Close” button on my computer.

What IS this about? Is there a better way? How come it takes so much time to efficiently say what I mean? I want to be a pithy speaker NOW! ; &gt

Do you have an idea about why this is so? Any suggestions?

_______________Not that the story need be long, but it will take a long while to make it short.” Henry David Thoreau_______________

Sweet wind, like a body-sized silk sheet rousing exposed skin. I stand still for a few more seconds - feeling the fullness of the gift. The sun speckling light falling through dancing oak leaves. Wind swirling in song and touch. A swelling sense of joy fills me. Smiling - slowly I step forward - sandals on bricks. The mailbox tucked into pine tree limbs, the siamese cat calls from the driveway across the street. She too is excited about the beautiful moment. “Come touch me too.”  A car comes up the hill. The cat looks at me - and then the car. We wait. The car passes before I walk across the street. She comes down her driveway and prances left and right. Rolling over on her back - then quickly to her feet - trust is being discerned - in the dancing. Finally - a few strokes across her back - and she steadied for just a few seconds. Gentle massage of fingers down her spine. . .a few more…and a few more. Then five feet away, she looked back and churtled a thank you. Spirited like a frolicking colt, up the driveway darting and bucking. That was mid-morning.

The sun sings and sighs and stretches dark brown shadows through the afternoon garden. Leaves and limbs of great California oaks whisper and lean to the whimsy of the wind. The sage is almost a scent. The lavender is on it’s second bloom. The night blooming jasmine is crawling over the head posts of the gate. The sea enters the Monterey Bay - with only a few white caps. Prescott Presidio Hill is home to the elements - of joy.

Macro viewing through the camera lens reminds me of the freedom of falling into a new perspective, paradigm or view. The first line from William Blake’s poem, “Auguries of Innocence,” gives me that free-fall without a bungie cord. How many ways can I understand what it means to ’see the world in a grain of sand?’ And why bother? Here we go . . .

To see a world in a grain of sand

And a heaven in a wild flower,

Hold infinity in the palm of your hand

And eternity in an hour.

More jolts:

1. Remember that the difference between a weed and a flower is judgment. Oh what violence is born in judgment.

2. A bad man is a good man’s child. And a good man is a bad man’s teacher. Can we separate the effect of our impact from what we intend? Can I see without judging?

I like Wayne Dyer’s metaphor - about how when we use violence to get rid of dandelions we only double the amount of dandelions that will bloom next time.

Verse 25 of the Tao - “To know humanity know the earth. To know the way - understand the great within yourself.” Wisdom is knowing that I am nothing. Love is knowing I am everything. And in between the two is where I choose my life. End all conflicts with love.

From blogs to ideas to analytics about the valued ideas and reputation for trustworthiness. Anarchy in the analytics? Easy to get drawn into the fever of being “popular” so as to “not miss out” on whatever it is that will be the prize - for scoring the best Spigit analytics.

Here’s the video explaining Spigit. Where is this idea leading companies now?

This article in today’s NY Times (click on the “more” link below) is worth reading. “The subconscious brain is more active, independent and purposeful than once thought. Sometimes it takes charge.” The information opens the mainstream person to the concepts that NLP & Hypnosis have been building upon for years. With that thought I can imagine (as the article indicates: from my deepest desire) that a critical mass of people will be able to perceive, understand, and manage their moods, impulses & desires. read more | digg story

Someone asked me recently - “Now that you’ve sorta moved into your Carmel-like Monterey home - what are you doing these days?” So, this is a good opportunity to update lots of folks and my blog.

Aside from playing with my Grandson Edison for 24 hours over July 4th weekend, I’ve been volunteering. Volunteering is a way to get to know the community.

As in most good things, asking for what we want usually leads to getting more than we can imagine. I’ve been asking and receiving abundantly.  Here’s a quick overview.

 The Community Hospital of Montery Peninsula One day in early June I read in the Monterey Herald that there was an “urgent call for type O+ blood (after the Memorial Day weekend.)  Since I was a regular donor the last year I lived in Lodi, I though it would be a good way to get to know a few people and contribute. What a friendly and animated group! While sitting there in that comfy chair I got to listen to M. Rau talk about her month long trip to Tuscany with her family. Animated and exhuberant about the villa they enjoyed and the great food she swept our imaginations to Tuscany for 20 minutes. As she got to know me a bit - she suggested that I volunteer at the CHOMP. Not knowing what the CHOMP was - I asked. “CHOMP is unlike any hospital. Thanks to the larghesse of the people of this region - it is more like a five star hotel than a hospital. You’ll meet very fine people and be treated very well! It’s a good start.”  So, after background checks, TB tests and a two hour orientation I was assigned to the Gift Shop two evenings a month. Not wanting to keep the title “Provisional” I’ve signed up to volunteer six evenings by August 21st. M. Rau was correct. It’s a little bit of heaven within the resort like property called the Community Hospital.

The World Affairs Council of Monterey Bay (thanks to a friend of Les) may be my first board position in this region. I received a call just yesterday asking me to submit my bio for consideration in being nominated a member of the board. I’m delighted and honored to be consided - since this collection of people present speakers and a network of movers and shakers. The Defense Language Institute, Monterey Institute of International Studies and Naval Postgraduate School (all located here in Monterey) are well represented on the board and membership.)

This year is the 70th anniversary of the Carmel Bach Festival. A realtor showing me a home took the time to answer my question: “Which organizations or events would you recommend to get to know the “flavor” of folks in this region - who’d also appreciate me?”  Her answer was quick: “The Carmel Bach Festival.” So, after a few visits with the staff, I’m the woman people meet on Monday and Wednesdays when they come to the box office for tickets to any of the 3 weeks of classical concerts. I meet friendly people from all over the world! Amazing to realize how much is going on - that’s world renown - right here!

The Summer of Love Concert in Monterey on July 28th & 29th (After attending an event sponsored by the Monterey Chamber of Commerce, I met the Publicist for the event. Wendy Brickman and I seem to be kindred spirits and after a white linen table cloth lunch in a closed restaurant (she’s well known by local restauranteurs for obvious reasons) she invited me to assist her with the event. I’ve always wanted to shadow Publicists and P.R. Folks!

Concours d\’Elegance August 15-19 in Pebble Beach - will be my final volunteer effort this summer. As September approaches - I imagine I’ll be moving toward the “for pay” efforts that are now simoultaneously appearing on the horizon.

I’m meeting with new friends to discover needs that I might fill in my “new business” venture - whatever that will become. Thank Goodness for the fine people I’ve met here. Seems to me the doors of opportunity are opening - more easily in this region - than anywhere I’ve ever lived. Amazing and encouraging.

A rainbow of quick thoughts in this blog. It’s been too long since I’ve written - and I miss writing and posting.

Here’s what’s moving me this morning - in the fog and sunshine.

Poetry Illuminates, Like Paint for the Mind

This excerpt by Brandon Cesmat book: “Driven Into the Shade,” (ISBN 0-9 714003-3-4) moves me …

“If I lie down for the wheel of time

to roll over me, I am full of use;

I keep time from falling, I catch memories

and hold words as sand holds the colors of a mandala. Everyday on the beach,

blueprints to circumvent suffering are thrown

and then withdrawn to the laughter of waves.”

Today I’m practicing making conscious choices - rather than the conscious-numbing choices that tempt me into stultifying comfort zones.

Every choice affects our consciousness, like the chemistry of food affects our essence.

One more collection of moments combine into what I call the past. I wonder what today will look like in the future. Speaking of what “now” will look like in the future…

I am never in the same moment again. William James, the great psychologist-philosopher-teacher of the early 20th Century wrote that all memory is storytelling since we can never experience a moment from the same consciousness-context twice. Every moment is a chemistry of choices that shapes the next moment of chemistry - and choices. To really know the story of our lives we need to examine the storyteller.

The Math of Moments

This morning I wondered about ‘the math of our life. A day full of momentary choices occurs in the dark and light over 87,840 seconds, 1440 minutes, or 24 hours. That seems like a lot of opportunity to create. No wonder I’m tired after 16 hours. By 10 P.M. I’ve made thousands decisions! Sleep. It’s underrated.

The Impact of Child Abuse Illustrated in the play “Foreign Women“

Yesterday I saw the play, “Foreign Women” at the Carl Cherry Center in Carmel. There’s no way one can see that 90 minute play and hide from the reality of child abuse - in the faces of young adults.

Serendipity and character study guided my curiosity as the storyline unfolded.

Since it’s only a 48 seat theater in a once large home in Carmel, the audience, all 32 of us, got an up close and for some uncomfortably personal view of how people’s lives are twisted by the bully parents and relatives who commit child abuse of any sort. It’s inspiring to see (so closely) how the 20-somethings suffer the tragedy of creating functional lives while engulfed in memories of horror and shame. Seeing how some create hardened masks of anger to fend off would-be abusers, while others create lives in the shadows to avoid being found by would be abusers. Skirting the truth until the truth finds them vulnerable in relationships they can neither navigate or understand, until they’ve past. Defenseless and mute in the moments of love, they are deeply present in the tragedies and dramas of their darkened lives. Wanting to appear “normal” they pretend to be navigating the tides of intimacy they so deeply crave and fear.

The Carl Cherry Theater seats 48 so the audience is nearly on-stage but certainly intimately in the room with the emotions of 20-Somethings’ courageously persevering past the haunting memories of child abuse. It seems apparent that abuse creates a disability worse than visible or acknowledged disabilities. Cognitive, neurological, and emotional interruptions in development influence the way we perceive our choices, ourselves, our capabilities.

I wonder what percentage of the population is living with the disability created when the developmental stages of childhood were interrupted by experiences of fear, terror, violence, neglect or estrangement. Certainly adolescent drug abuse is a form of self-abuse that has developmental impact. I wonder how many people have been compromised during development - in ways they have not recognized - even now.

Only in looking back can we recognize the impact of our choices, and celebrate our courage and resilience, or face the impact of decisions that caused others or ourselves to suffer. I think we make unwise decisions when we do not acknowledged the fears, sadness, hurt, and/or rage planted in our developing soul throughout childhood.

I’ve read research about the power released when we humans can acknowledge and integrate development impacts from childhood pain. When we integrate we have more emotional and physical energy and our reasoning power and capacity expands. We make better choices when we have more reasoning resources. Our lives are comprised of the choices we make.

It may be bigger than we’ve acknowledged. I wonder how many world-shaking decisions are made by men and women who are developmentally-impacted by their childhood.

Why don’t we acknowledge and examine the impact of developmental disturbances in “functional” people too?

What if we did something BIG about the inhumanity right in our own culture? What if we were not afraid of “the bullies”? We go to war with bullies. But that’s only the displaced satisfaction.

What can we do to shake down the shambles of developmental impact of abuse, neglect, and estrangement?

What if we decided to shake-down our preconceptions about parenthood as a right? What if we decided parenthood is a privilege we all have to earn?

Dear God, wake us from the stupor of fear that causes us to stand still and silent, like Lot’s wife, frozen in salt-rock, breathless with unacknowledged desire to stay in our morbid comfort zones, burdened with unacknowledged emotional baggage.

Sometimes my courage evaporates. Sometimes I stand still in my fear. I can awaken when I remember, I will live in increasing emotional-desolation, suspended in breathless, vacant, soul-less thoughts, until I acknowledge my fear, of facing, my fear.

Writing this blog-is like hugging the part of me - that breathes, acknowledges, embraces, nurtures and restores me.

Moving Into Monterey

I’m still discovering this region, the Monterey Bay Peninsula including Carmel and the Carmel Valley. I imagine the choices I am making will become a painting, sculpture, dance or poetry reading soon.

Challenge as a Metaphor

It’s been anything but easy to assimiliate physically into this beautiful artistically inspiring, natural sanctuary, home. I still wonder what the meaning of the challenges have been. I see metaphors in the fact that essential elements of survival have needed “repair” in order to fully live in this beautiful place. For 31 days we lived with uncertainty about whether the water, gas, heat and openings to wind and weather would be secured. Some spiritual traditions talk about the “threshold guardians” as a metaphor for times when we “move up” to inhabit our deepest dreams - we are “tested” to deteremine whether we have what it takes to inhabit “more” of what we truly want - in our lives.

Results? I believe we’ve passed through the a “doorway.” And, now for the next threshold. God be with us each moment.

Adventure

Each day is an adventure of infinite moments speeding in community of artists, playfulness, and the undertow of business.

Casa de Belleza, translates from Spanish to English as - house of beauty. The words are inscribed on the building. My heart soars every time I walk onto the property. Sigh. Thank you God. Thank you Les. Thank you for this beautiful awakening.

Grandson just up from nap. Lingering - like his cold - in daddy’s loving, patient, all accepting embrace. Like God embraces us - when we have a cold - when we need just a few more minutes of love - before we receive the world.

Maybe loving our children - and grandchildren - is a re-education in loving ourselves (and by extension, each other.)

Maybe we need children - to remind us what love is - in all the small ways we care - share - and just ‘be’ with each other - no matter what. The moments of unanticipated loss - ache - agony - or numbness - or just plain observing what is - are all opportunities for loving - what is - with each other - no matter what.

Sigh.

Thank you God.

What wave - what spirit of beauty - what love - what force of God is carrying us to these new shores? Thank you God.