THE (RE)NEW(ED) ME

 

      I'm growing old. I don't mind that because I like sticking around on Planet Earth now that I have a bit of a clue at last as to what my life is all about. The physical aspects of aging are awkward to deal with at times, but I have a deep sense of humor, so I get by with a chuckle. I was bothered, though, about a couple of simple things. My hair is thinner and my eyelashes, being hair, are not as thick as they used to be.

    I have a THING about being real. Being honest with self and others is extremely important to me. I also, though, have a thing about being happy. I was not as happy as I used to be when I looked in the mirror. I decided to do something about that. The picture above is me. I purchased the hair and the eyelashes, so I can say they are mine. I simply didn't grow them on my own. I'm happier once again when I look in the mirror.

    Having now adjusted to the thought of wearing a wig, I am enjoying the freedom of knowing, for $20 or less, I can change my hairstyle and color any time I want! I have two wigs on order right now.

    The only facelift I will get will come from grinning often. I love to laugh. The older I grow, the more I laugh. I've always been a believer in happy endings. 

THE BIRTH OF ALEX

 

Alex rarely ever hopped. He preferred to walk on his hind legs and saunter down the road---much like a bow-legged cowboy. He tried to get his friends to call him Tex, but it didn't work. Alex lived in New Jersey. There's not a large demand for cowboys in New Jersey, although there are a fair amount of cows. Those cows, though, were raised on dairy farms and were perfectly content to graze most of the day and head to the barn to be milked at night. They did so pretty much on their own with an occasional urging from the farm work dogs, but they ran on all fours and Alex preferred to saunter.

If the truth was known, Alex was actually afraid of horses. They stood really tall and Alex couldn't figure out how he would mount a horse and was sure he would fall off once the horse moved even if he did manage to get into the saddle.

There just wasn't a large demand in New Jersey for grandiose cowboy rabbits who liked to saunter, but Alex preferred to think of himself as a rare breed. A cut above the rest. A loner. One of a kind. Tex the wrangler rabbit.

I considered starting a new blog, but decided to recycle by simply bringing up one of my original blogs and adding to it.  This is a rough draft for the idea of a rabbit named Alex who came about through an exercise I did at Sketchbook Revival on Facebook. 

Alex came from the blob at the top of the row on the right.

 

       

I think of this as Alex's Ultrasound.

I don't know how far I will carry this, but I thought it would be fun to let you into the process of how an idea is born and comes into reality.    

::::Gone to gather some cows and a horse::::

A while later:

RICH MAN POOR MAN

RICH MAN, POOR MAN, BEGGAR MAN, THIEF

DOCTOR, LAWYER, INDIAN CHIEF

I spend a lot of time thinking about the stages of life and the differences between classes of people, races, and cultures.  I don't really fit anywhere. I'm of two races and four nationalities. All of my friends are middle class, but according to economics I am extremely poor. I have no college background. I've been unemployed more often than not. I own all I own. I live within my income and have no debts.

I believe I have a much better education than many of the people I meet. I chose my own rather than follow some school's formula...just as I prefer to bake from scratch rather than to buy and use a mix. I made good choices.

The rough spots in my life came from relating to other people. I'm much better at that now. When people begin to act controlling, I back off and head in another direction. My first loyalty is to my own sense of joy and well being. Now that I have that settled, the rest of my life is assured to be full of intelligent playfulness.

 

BETWEEN HERE AND THERE

Boy is my home neat! That's what happens when I spend too much time here. Even my "clutter" is organized and neatly piled. This place looks really settled now. I love it. I tried to picture where I am at in my life and saw a picture of a train on a turn table. OK. That's a pretty good picture. I'm not actually going anywhere right now, but I am willing to go whatever way God wants. This is one of those times I am simply living by rote...which is what good habits allow room for. I just put one foot in front of the other and do little things each day to keep life manageable. I prefer the time when I am creative, but I don't put maintenance in last place. Without it there would be no order in my life. It's just dull; that's all...so right now I imagine I am rather dull.
"How are you today?"
"Dull, thank you. And you?"
Have you ever noticed that bored people are boring to relate to? So it follows that I will be dull for a bit until I get into something creative once again.
What's nice about all of this is that for me to be bored is a luxury. I used to have knots to untie and tons to sort through. Now that's done. I'm in a "Huh?" place. There is no instruction manual with this life we give ourselves. I have spent many years sorting out what I didn't want and saying no to that. I found things I liked to do and have done them. Now my life appears to be in a wash, rinse, repeat mode. I'll practice that for a while, but I KNOW I will have to find something to learn or create. It's in my genes. (Thank you, Dad!) Waiting, though, is also a strong point of mine. (Thank you, Mom!)
It's a special joy to report that I am in a place that allows me to look at my past and pick out all of the pretty things to cherish. The other stuff? That's what forgiveness is for.

I ENJOY BEING A SQUIRREL

Squirrel gathers for the future

And lets go easily of excess

http://scottfoglesong.printandwebdesign.com/26-squirrel.pdf

I began using a squirrel icon several years ago. I joined a photography site and found a picture online of a squirrel holding a camera. 

 I love to do several things at once, flitting from one to the next and back...completing all around the same time (I love circles!). I remind myself of a squirrel running around a tree. I may appear erratic, but I get a lot done. I have a well-stocked pantry. I stock up on supplies for all of my artistic endeavors when I see things on sale. For example: I used rubber cement for my collages. Cans that usually sell for $8.00 went on a close out sale for $1.00. I bought a dozen cans. 

Since I saved $84 off the regular price of the rubber cement, I can afford to be generous with others and give away some of what I bought to those who might need it. I shop that way for anything that I consider a staple, the same way a squirrel gathers nuts while the weather is mild. When we make good use of what we have and think ahead to needs in the future, we are better able to provide for others from our excess.

'Get the picture?   

Freely you received, freely give.   Matthew 10:8

So---when I was it I ceased writing a blog post daily? I have a number of blogs online, but rarely add to them now. Returning to this, the original blog, seem appropriate, since life tends to come full cycle.


I still keep a hand written journal daily, but as a way of sorting myself and freeing myself of negativity. It's not necessarily a record of my day or anything I think another would find valuable to read.
I still write poetry very regularly, but again, with a pen in a notebook, and not while seated at a keyboard. 


A lot has changed in the last two years! I used to write lengthy email daily to a man friend and a woman friend.  Now I write 140 character statements on Twitter. 


I read today in The Writer's Almanac that Astronomer Edwin Hubble announced that there were other galaxies beside the Milky Way in 1924.  I mention that because less than 90 years ago mankind thought our galaxy was the only one. When I was a girl in school I was taught that Columbus thought the world was flat until 1492.  According to this site http://www.strangequestions.com/question/250/Who-first-discovered-that-the-world-is-round.html  that is not true at all, yet there were some in the 15th century who did think the world was flat. I just realized this week that nativity scenes are not accurate, since the three wise men did not find Christ when he was in the manger, but rather later when he was a toddler.


Change.  Correction of errors. An ever opening mind. Different perspectives. My sense of Reality is much different now than it was when I first starting keeping a blog. 


I remember life before television. Now I carry a netbook in my purse. I remember how excited I was when I was in junior high school and my mother purchased a portable typewriter. Now little children are raised to learn to use a keyboard before they attend public school. 


I speak often of God. Reality is one of the names I use for God. 34 years ago I asked God to reveal Himself to me. My sense of Reality continues to expand as I age. God doesn't change.  Hopefully, I do!

Amazing Grace

EVERYTHING'S COMING UP ROSES

I don't think it matters so much if the cup is half empty or half full. It matters more what's in the cup.

I've had a year of roses and they are still blooming in December.

WHERE ANGELS PLAY

The room so neat
It's almost bare
Bookcase, a shelf
A desk and chair
An office where
The sick will meet
With therapist
A woman sweet
To tell their tales
Of pain and woe
Misunderstood
By friend and foe
She smiles and nods
Sometimes she sighs
At moments tears
Are in her eyes
She feels the pain
And eases stress
So patients can
Receive some rest
An interlude
Of peace occurs
A question asked
A memory stirs
An insight comes
The pain departs
And then with joy
Within their hearts
Both laugh
As angels come to play

(c) Beth NoLastName

AFTER THE STORM

I want to run to the nearest clock and stop the minutes from passing. Slow down! Slow down! That's my life you are ticking away! 


Then I laugh, assured if the time passes swiftly, I will simply be given extra years so I can still do all I want to do. I remind myself there is no hurry for anything. Everything is right on time.

Just a few weeks ago I was experiencing pain. The situation didn't change, but I did, so there is no pain any longer. There is peace and joy in it's place.  The same people who would tell me to stop hitting my hand with a hammer if I cried out that it hurt, expect me to stand still as they create pain for me. I apply the same logic as I would with the hammer. I cease doing as I was doing.  I allow that hammers are useful when applied rightly, and the people who are hurtful to me may do just fine relating to others. I set myself free and continuing on my pain free way. It works just fine each time I apply the lesson learned. 


Was I sad? Of course I was sad! People are humans, not hammers. I care and I grieve deeply. But grieving does not last forever, or in my case, for long. My conscience is clear, so I don't need to go through the "What if I had done this?" or "I shouldn't have done that." I just feel the sorrow that someone and I can no longer be close. 


Life is full of someones. Spending a great deal of time mourning the loss of relating to just one, makes no sense to me.  While life doesn't always make sense to me, I do like to make sense to myself. There are no vacuums. When something is removed, something else takes up the space it leaves behind. I don't rush to fill spaces. There are times I enjoy having more moments to myself, unfettered by the need to relate to another. 


I always liked the song WHEN YOU CAN'T BE WITH THE ONE YOU LOVE, LOVE THE ONE YOU'RE WITH. Spending time alone is a most rewarding experience.

COMMITTED TO LOVING

For over a week I went through a lot of stress, which stretched my emotions to the breaking point, but only enough for me to shed tears, not enough to lose any sanity, or even any sleep. Stress, as it will do, caused me to change. Change is always welcome.

This week I was rejected for having changed. I was laughed at...ridiculed. Since the person choosing to do that was my favorite person I went into an emotion whirlwind, shaken to my core.

I have survived. I have bid goodbye to that person. I accepted the pain and it didn't kill me. I reeled from it for a bit, and it altered my sense of reality and self. But I am a better person as a result. Given the choice to lower the esteem in which I hold someone else, or lowering my self esteem, the other party loses every time. I live the opposite of the way I was raised to live. Pride and fear can take a flying leap.

I would love to say this has never happened before, but that is not true. I have cared for many people and held them in high regard, only to lose respect for them as they treated me as less than worthy of respect. I view respect as a healthy fear of loss. Once someone treats me poorly and then laughs at me, I lose any fear of loss I have. I would rather be away from that person. I say goodbye.

Healthy people laugh with one another, not at one another. They talk to one another, not at one another. Once I am treated as an inanimate object and told to negate my own emotions, I do whatever needs to be done to get free of that relationship. There are no exceptions.

Abuse comes in many forms. I choose not to enable it.

BREAK TIME

I'm stuck.

That happens sometimes. It's as if the wheel of life has stopped and the gears simply aren't meshing and turning at the moment. It's akin to being perched at the top of a Ferris wheel, waiting for the ride to begin again. While I am here, I take the time to look around me and settle back to review my day, and if stuck long enough, my life.

In recent months, I have begun a number of things, a book, a craft/sewing project/ learning to play a keyboard, but I have not continued on. There was a time years ago when I wasn't able to finish things that interested me, as if I didn't deserve such things...but I got past that so long ago that I have accomplished a great deal more than I ever thought I would.

But right now I am stuck.

I've gone through so many changes lately, I sometimes feel like a character in The Invasion of the Body Snatchers. I love the result of all of the changes, and have no regret at all. But I am stuck!

Making decisions and following through has cleared confusion out of my life often. I would like to go forward and follow my creative urges. Instead I keep coming across blocks, so I spend time purging things that are in my way, rather than creating new things. I can be grateful the blocks that come up now are things outside of me, and not created from any lack of esteem. It simply feels odd to be changing what I do and who I relate to at such a rapid rate.

As I sit here writing, a light goes off. I have grown. I have outgrown situations and even people that were once very helpful to me. The same things that helped the wheel to turn are now blocking it from turning! Amazing.

Perhaps I am stuck for a good reason. In a life centered in love, there are times we need to slow our pace a little to allow room for those we love to either part with us, or decide to come along as we continue in our growth. To honor the proess, we need to pause and reflect on what has come before, to be able to release it. The wheel only turns in one direction. There is no reverse.

RIGHT ON TIME

I'm sitting here listening to lastfm.com...Paul Simon-Under African Skies. Earphones are a most wonderful invention. My eyes tell me I am sitting at a table on the second floor of the Trenton Public Library, but my mind laughs and my foot moves in time to the music. Senses are a wonder thing. I can transport myself beyond my environment with sounds, that seem to be inside my head. Usually when surrounded by people I like to remain open and receptive, but here in an urban library where I want to read and write the ear plugs and music are a coping mechanism.

Ahh! Now it's Harry Chapin and Mail Order Annie. I'm playing catch up! Let me explain.

In the course of my life, I did not watch TV as others did. I rarely ever went to a concert or a play. By the time I was 26, I was widowed. My life did not seem to go the same way as my peers, but it was my life, so I made decisions as to what I wanted to experience and what I didn't want to experience. I decided by the time I reached thirty that I had no desire to watch television when I could read a book and learn something instead. For fifteen years I read non-fiction. I kept extensive journals. I explored my inner world. I found my gifts and developed them into talents. I worked at life.

I reasoned then there would be plenty of time left to play catch up when I grew old, thinking then that I would be old when I reached my sixties. Well, I reached my sixties and I wasn't old, so I just kept going, but a few months ago I rethought my plan. If I wait until I FEEL old, I may not want to play catch up!

So here I am...retired and loving it. I've always loved music, and sang often as I worked, but the only songs I knew were from my early childhood...songs of my parent's generation. That came in handy when I worked nursing the elderly, but it did nothing to give me common ground with my peers. My peers now ARE the elders in this country, and I do recognize the tunes, but I don't know who sang what. I didn't learn the names of the groups or recording artists. I didn't keep up with the times.

All of that strikes me funny. I look around at the state the world is in, and realize I didn't miss much of any consequence...other than some fine entertainment. Well, I am now being entertained.

It's my turn.

A RECYCLED LIFE

I have a friend in Florida who rescues Dalmatians. I thought of her yesterday when I bought Buford Bear and his buddy Rufus Mutt for $.50 apiece at a yard sale. The price was right and I know they won't eat much. I questioned my sanity for a bit, but as I set them on my bed, I laughed. They looked very much at home. I just know the more I look at the fellas, the more I am going to want to write a children's story about them. Others have a muse. I have amuse. (It doesn't take much to amuse me!)

Today I read about composting and was surprised to find there are many things that can go into a compost heap that I wouldn't have considered. The fact that I live in one room on the third floor of a YWCA residence completely surrounded by cement and asphalt has nothing to do with that!

Stuffed animals and composting? Here I sit, after nearly six years of living in one room in a downtown area, day dreaming once again about having a worm bed. Should I ever wind up senile in a nursing home, the aides are going to be walking around scratching their heads as I chatter on. I won't be asking for any dolls, but I might ask for Rufus and if anyone has seen my earthworms.

This month I quit Twitter and facebook. I had the experience, enjoyed it for what it was, and left while the party was still going. I'm thinking of creating my own site and calling it Twitbook. You know? A simple site for people like me who get lost on the way to the bathroom. I did find something that suits me to a T, though. Its called Stumble Upon. I explored it today and had a great deal of fun doing some supervised surfing. It's just the right tool to allow me to follow my interests, yet not get lost along the way. It's akin to having an implanted homing device.

I'm looking forward to tomorrow. I have received consent from the state library to use a table there for cutting out patterns. The space is attractive, quiet, well lit...everything I could ask for from a crafting space. Tomorrow, rather than carrying my laptop in a bag over my shoulder, I will have a bag with material, patterns, tissue paper and Fiskars (scissors). I'll lay out patterns on tissue paper to make duplicate sizes, and then lay out some patterns on material. The material I will be using is from used jeans. I found some at a yard sale for $2.00 a pair. They were exactly what I wanted. I intend to make lined denim patchwork vests. Each one will be different than the last...one of a kind creations. A woman who runs a consignment store in New Hope, PA said she would be interested in seeing them.

It's been over ten years since I sat down to create with my sewing machine. Ten years! When I arrived in New Jersey nine years ago with my computer and my sewing machine, I had a dream. Making my own dreams come true has been a life-long habit. I learned that plans don't work, although I make them to have a sense of direction. Dreams, though, come true. Dreams don't have a time limit as most plans do. I bought a new machine five years ago. It's still new. I have only used it a few times. Now it will earn it's price back for me, just as every sewing machine I ever owned did in the past.

Because I live where I do, I am considered legally homeless. I am now the most comfy cozy homeless woman I have ever known. I tour the world with my computer, meeting people from all over, and now I will return to sewing and crafting, just as when I owned my house. It should go well. I have no stress of mortgage payments, house taxes, fuel, or utilitiy bills. I have nothing better to do than to create some patterns and designs.

I am a child at play. Rufus and Buford understand that.

POSITIVE ONE LINERS

This week I have explored other positive thinking writers and added a few to my Twitter account, just to be able to see quick positive one liners. I think in such things most often, so it's refreshing to read that others do, too.

One liners have a way of sticking in my mind, and are easy to draw upon when I come across puzzling situations or unsteady emotions. The ones I used most often are my own! For years, I kept intense journals, digging as deeply as I knew how to see what was "in there". I found I was built in layers. There would be a layer of muck and then a layer of gold, diamonds, pearls, rubies, emeralds and all things wondrous and awe inspiring. That I held such treasure amazed me. The muck I understood, and could even figure out where it came from, but the treasure caused me little more than marvel. I saw myself just as I see young children, full of innocence and beauty...gifted and delightful. I felt encouraged to keep digging. That was when the one liners began to occur. I would find them upon re-reading entries.

The one that comes to mind most often is: Love without respect is emtionalism.
I have meditated on that often over the years that have past since I wrote it. Thinking about it has changed the course of my life.

I remember at the time having to look up the word emotionalism! The sentence was something far beyond any wisdom I consciously possessed. Yet there it was, and there was no denying I was the one who wrote it.

There are those who might debate with me and say such a statement is not a positive one liner. I smile. There is no debate. That one liner has cleared out a great deal of confusion and helped me to rid myself of some of the layers of muck. It has allowed respect for the emotions of others even when they lacked respect in the way they displayed those emotions.

Positive is not always pretty. Positive is sure and true. Positive dispels negativity.
Positive makes a strong statement. Positive creates energy.

MOODY ME

I appreciate solitude. In my time alone I am stuck with myself and everything I feel. I used to love analyzing others and taking things apart. I took apart my Cinderella watch once to see how it worked. Not being a genius, I had to lay it to rest afterward. Oops! Now I do that same type of thing with myself, only I don't remove any working parts. In the course of journal keeping and deep inventorying of myself I found a lot of things that motivate others. Well, I'll be! Yup. There were answers right there within for why some people around me acted the way they did. There was no secret formula to get them to change, but it was nice to realize they were simply flawed as I was and chose different responses to life than I did.

Self honesty is an incredible experience. If I were to be as honest with others as I am with myself I would reply to, "You are too hard on yourself" with, "What's the matter? Did I strike a chord in you that you want to deny?" I'm not too hard on myself at all, but there have been plenty of people who have been hard on me. They didn't want to look within, so they accused me of the traits they liked least in themselves.

I got fat. Then I got fatter. Now I am losing the excess weight. As I got fat there were people around me who laughed and said I wasn't all that fat. I knew I was. A person doesn't get to be 229 pounds (I'm only 5'3") without being fat.

I am still surprised each time I make a statement about myself that there are so many people willing to disagree with me. I am not open to debating my identity with anyone. I haven't placed anyone in authority over me. I make true statements about myself. I am still fat. I look pretty enough, and am thinner than I was, but I am fat nonetheless. When I am not fat any longer I will gladly say so! I laugh and look forward to that achievement.

Lately I have felt disappointed pretty often. There are people in my life who tell me to expect something and don't follow through. I feel sad for them. I don't like being set up to feel disappointed, so I know I will have to let go of them as friends if they don't correct themselves.

I have also noticed others are getting in touch with me more often and we have more in common as time passes. That causes me joy.

I keep changing where I go and what I do, since I believe in routine, but not ruts. As I do that I become more enthused about my everyday life. I am meeting more people. It's a human trait to be at your best when meeting someone new, so I get to see myself at my best and others at their best more often. My suggestion to anyone who begins losing enthusiasm is to stand at a bus stop and start a conversation with a stranger. When we meet we all tend to define ourselves to one another. It helps us to grow and see our lives through a renewed set of eyes. Meeting new people also gets us outside of ourselves and increases our areas of interest.

I don't try to hold one mood all day long. There will be stresses and pleasures in every day. Part of thriving is to experience all of what life offers, and select the best from those experiences.

Now how about that? I am becoming an expert on thriving. These are lessons I greatly enjoy!

THE UNWANTED CHILD

I wasn't wanted as a child. I was raised much the way cattle are. I was fed and physical needs were met. I was a daughter, an investment for old age. I fulfilled that obligation and did nurse my parents before they died. In that time they made verbal amends to me, admitting I had not been treated rightly.

Verbal amends helped. They didn't take away all of the damage none, no more than my amends can take away all the damage done to another, but they paved the way for me to learn what it is to feel wanted and to love myself.

My father was a mad man, a lot like his father before him. He was highly respected in the community, and seen as a kind man. Behind closed doors he was a tyrant...a most moody individual whose moods ran the home. He had little but ridicule to offer my mother, brother and me. My mother adored and protected my brother as much as she could and seemed to blame me for being born, as if I had any say so in the matter. I was told not to outshine my brother. I was sent to my room so often, it became my home place. Today I live in one room with no problem at all.

I used to think I was less than those who had their parent's love, but have found that isn't the case at all. We all have the same value. Some are cherished. Some are not.
Learning to cherish myself has been a long, difficult to learn process, but I am doing well. I have a great deal of hope for myself and my life. My sense of humor runs deep. I am 62 with the ambitions of someone forty years younger. Some of us are late bloomers.

My parents are forgiven. I think of them with love. I don't try to change my memories or deny anything. I want to be loved as who I am, not as who someone pretends I am, so I love the memory of them as such. They both had many fine gifts which I can emulate and make my own. They were both intelligent people and both were very physically attractive. My father's word was gold. It was often wrong, yes, but he kept it. When he said he was going to do something, he was already on his way to do it.
My mother handled money better than a banker. Were she in charge of the country, there never would have been a deficit...and everything would be clean, too. I never saw anything dirty in the home, but neither did I ever see her sweat.

The best way I can figure to honor my parent's amends is to keep going...to continue to grow as I age...to live life to it's fullest and allow joy to replace sorrow. In the end they wanted to see me happy. It counts.

STALLING AS I SWITCH GEARS

I am not working on a new book. If I were working on a new book, I wouldn't be writing this blog post. The new book I am not working on has a working title: THE BOOK I NEVER WANTED TO WRITE. It's autobiographical, so I have all of the information I need on hand. I obviously have a computer and time to write.

This then, is a warm up exercise, leading to working on TBINWTW. I recognize the process.

Ah! A good thing! I paused to do some honest research online. Since much of what I will be writing about has to do with grieving out my own life, I now have a list of articles on grieving. I read the Kubler-Ross book in 1974. I have recognized the stages of grief in everyday happenings. In order to grow and change, we all need to grieve often. I may try out for the grief Olympics one day. Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Acceptance. I can go through that in the course of a few minutes at times as I see things in myself which need to give up the ghost.

I love to write. I recognize I am now writing about my process of writing a book!

THIS POST IS NOW HISTORY

It's Sunday again! I want to say "Where does the time go?" and "Time flies!" but surely there is a new or at least different way to express surprise at how quickly the present moment becomes a memory. I'll have to think about that today and get back to you when this post is in my past. It only takes a breath for that to happen.

Time. It's always been a strange concept to me. We all use the measure of it as if that meant something important. I am a certain age. I have been working at my job for a certain length of time. I've known you for moments, days or years.

I threw all of that stuff away. One day I considered that eternity is a right now experience. "Throughout eternity" simply means something isn't going to change. Eternity cannot be measured. It has no beginning or end...otherwise it isn't eternal. So, it's right now.

I live as a spirit having a physical experience of life. That works for me.

Who is I?

Hurray! I was able, at last, to figure out how to reclaim this blog! What's a few years among friends? At this point I have blogs all over the Internet, but there's no place like home, and this is where it all started. I have a blog for poetry, a blog for events in my area that have to do with the arts, a blog for odd ball stuff...you name it. I am the Bountiful Blogger. I promised myself to get them all together and begin adding to all of them regularly. Promising me anything is rare, so I need to keep my word.

Have you noticed that virtual reality feels like a place at times...as if we really do travel from place to place online and each place has a "feel" to it? I've decided there must be some truth in all of that. Spirit is stronger in my life than physical reality, so this entire Internet experience seems to be a good way to bring the two together. I have to sit at a physical computer and type the words to communicate, but other than that, it's an inside out experience, so my soul gets recognition. I'm all for that since I live as a spirit having a physical experience of life. I sometimes speak of my mind, body and emotions as three different elements...so the I that I am speaking from has to be Spirit. That's the eternal stuff. My body can get ill. My mind can be confused or clouded. My emotions can be in turmoil. I still exist waiting for the confusion to pass, the turmoil to end or the body to heal. Yup, I is a statement of Spirit, at least in my case.

(The child within loves finding a way to say "I is" and get away with it!)