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Thoughts, spiritual experiences, happenings and insights
from the woman who discovered the Personal Connector Word to God
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Tuesday, June 30, 2009 WHAT'S YOUR MOST POPULAR POST?Tuesday's theme at Blogdumps is to re-post one of your
previous popular blogs.
I have no way of gauging the popularity of the blogs on my website,
so I was just going to pass on this week's contest. But after reading Angelbaby's post (go to www.yourcaringangels.com), I was inspired to go back to the month I began blogging (November 2008) and see just what it was that I wrote about 8 months
ago. My Thanksgiving post caught my eye, and I thought how "in tune" it was with Angelbaby's beautiful post about giving thanks.
So, here it is:
Friday, November 21,
2008
WHY THANKSGIVING
SHOULDN'T BE A NATIONAL HOLIDAY
Thanksgiving is a true American holiday. Begun by the Pilgrims in the
early settling of our land, it has grown over the years from a day of thanking God for all our abundance into a day of turkeys,
football and the start of the Christmas holiday shopping season. Not what the Pilgrims had in mind, I'm sure.
For anyone following a spiritual path, however, the question really should
be: Why do we need one day out of the year to give thanks? Shouldn't we be thanking God (the universe, our divine
source) each and every day? Perhaps, each and every minute? We no more need an annual designated day a year to give
thanks than we need one to honor breathing. Take-a-Breath Day would be rather silly . . .but it is no more silly than Thanksgiving
Day. We need to breathe daily; we need to give thanks daily.
With most spiritual paths and exercises, we are reminded over and over
that gratitude is a necessary ingredient to make progress. Some call it "an attitude of gratitude." It
is the simple concept that we are thankful, at all times, for all things. Even when things may not be going our way,
we focus instead on the things that are--and we give sincere thanks. In these difficult economic times, it is particularly
important that we focus on what we do have, not on what we have lost. And we should give thanks.
Gratitude is the simple concept that God (the universe, our divine
source) will respond favorably to our sincere appreciation. That giving thanks for abundance, leads to more abundance.
Even more importantly, that giving thanks for what we have, even if it is meagre, will also lead to more abundance.
Daily gratitude is also an important part of discovering and utilizing
your Personal Connector Word to God. You need to maintain a feeling of gratitude in order to let God
in--in order to recognize the divine communication. And after you discover your PCW, each time you see it, a feeling of natural
thankfulness should come over you.
It's important never to take your PCW for granted. After 11 years
of seeing my PCW, Georgia, I still get an overwhelming feeling of appreciation and joy when God sends me one.
I'm still humbled and thankful to know that my Creator loves me enough to connect with me directly. I don't need to have
one day a year in November to give thanks for all my blessings, because my Georgia reminds me of my thankfulness
each and every time I see it. Friday, June 26, 2009 THERE WAS A REASON IT USED TO BE CALLED THE DRUGSTOREYears past, when you had an ailment that called for taking a prescription,
you got it filled at the drugstore. That's the only place you could get it filled, because taking drugs was
considered an unusual occurrence. If drugs needed to be introduced into your body (foreign chemicals that they are),
you went to a special place that held an air of restriction and monitoring; drugs were dispensed with great
care. For, God only knew what could happen if you got too many or if you took the wrong kind or if they fell into the wrong
hands. These pills were powerful; they had side effects. The idea of actually advertising these controlled
substances on TV (right along with Cheerios, Diet Pepsi, and car insurance) would have been considered insane. Why advertise?
If your doctor (the only one who knew and followed these drugs) thought you needed them, he would tell you.
It never occurred to folks in the olden days to actually go into a doctor's office and ask him/her about a specific drug they
would like to try that they saw on TV. My, how times have changed.
Now you can pick up your prescription drugs at Wal-Mart, along with a bathing
suit, a table lamp, and Cover Girl make-up. If you go into most grocery stores these days, along with your loaf of bread,
gallon of ice cream, and can of green beans, you can get a bagful of anti-depressants. One grocery store here in Florida even
will give you many of the more common antibiotics for FREE--just a neighborly promotion, they boast. I got
a prescription for Cipro filled free there just the other day. How marvelous!
But, is it?
What does it say about a society when medicating the human body with chemicals has
become as commonplace as picking up a loaf of bread? When free drugs are considered a neighborly PR campaign? When what
used to be drugstores (like Walgreen's and CVS) now peddle milk, bread and a host of groceries alongside their original products?
No wonder they are running ads on TV warning parents that their kids need no longer go to the drugpusher on the corner for
a "high," all they need to do is go to the bathroom medicine cupboard. We pop pills today like they are popcorn. But, what
people aren't doing is taking note of the horrible side effects that many (if not most) of these drugs have. Is it any wonder,
then, that the more and more drugs put out on the market to make us healthier and happier are not doing that--they seem to
be making us unhealthier and unhappier. Statistics show that the United States is far behind other industrialized countries
when it comes to overall health and health care systems.
It is no secret that the pharmaceutical companies have a huge lobby and that they
are behind this over-medication of America. It's big bucks. Did I mention that it's BIG BUCKS? So what if people are being
harmed. The FDA used to actually protect us from drugs BEFORE they went on the market that had harmful side effects. Now,
we hear about those side effects after they have been on the market for years and have destroyed countless
lives. It's now "after-the-fact." What I find amazing is that even after the many, many drugs that have been recalled the
last few years--even after the widespread news coverage about the harmful effects of hormones, or Redux, or Celebrex,
or a myriad of drugs pushed on people by the pharmaceutical companies--we continue to take drugs without thinking, without
asking questions about side effects, without looking for OTHER ALTERNATIVES.
Instead of taking cholesterol medication, why not try diet restrictions? Instead
of taking anti-depressants, give exercise, nature, meditation, and God a chance. Instead of pain killers, try non-drug alternatives
like Reiki, acupuncture and meditation. And there is no better healer in this world than communicating with God and tapping
into divine healing energy. It's there and it's waiting for you. Nothing is impossible with God. God can heal everything.
Science has given us some wonderful medications--many that have cured or eliminated
illnesses, such as polio. I'm not saying all drugs are wrong or not helpful. Far from it. But haven't you noticed that nowadays
the drug companies aren't putting the majority of their resources into CURING illnesses--they are putting them into TREATING
illnesses? Or better yet, they are spending time on "enhancement" drugs like Viagra. Did I mention that continued medication
or "enhancement" medication is BIG BUCKS? There's no money in curing people. It has been often said that Cancer will never
be cured because too many people's livelihoods depend upon it not being cured. What a sad statement that is about our society.
Maybe today's blog was precipitated by the fact that the Cipro I took to clear up
a bladder infection (which it did wonderfully) now has caused a nasty case of tendonititis in me. Or maybe it's because my
doctor was adamant it couldn't have contributed to that, even though the FDA warning in large letters on the brochure
that accompanied my prescription said just that. Or maybe it's because my mother really WAS right. She used to say, "When
you go to the doctor's, they give you something to fix your windshield wipers, but then your horn goes!"
That's one thing about connecting with God and His/Her healing energy. It never has
harmful side effects--only miraculous ones! It takes care of both your windshield wipers and your horn!
Monday, June 22, 2009 WHAT IS THIS BLOG ABOUT?Tuesday's meme on Blogdumps is "What is your Blog about?"
The heading on my Blog site (above) pretty much describes what I write
here. Anything with a spiritual bent. That means I can write about everything and anything, since, in the end, all things
get back to spirituality. All our experiences here on Earth are nothing more than learning situations we create to grow more
spiritually. So, there is never a subject that can't be turned on its spiritual side. At least, that's what I believe.
I started this Blog to expand on the ideas in my website, Legs
in the Attic. (Click on the navigation bar above to check out other parts of my website.) I started my website to
expand on the ideas in my YouTube videos. (Click on "home" on the navigation bar to go to my YouTube videos.) I made the YouTube
videos to attract interest in my as-yet-unpublished novel, entitled Legs in the Attic. Time will tell if any of this
will do that.
I picked out only one small aspect of my novel (The Personal Connector
Word to God) to focus on because it seemed like the most unique and interesting aspect to put out for the general public to
think about. Also, because, in addition to working for my novel's protaganist, it personally works for me. It is my hope
that it will also work for others. And maybe help them to begin their own exploration into spirituality, in a different way.
I try to keep the concept simple here and on my videos.
In truth, it's a little more complex. The PCW to God is only a starting point for 21st century communication with God.
There are other words and other signs that come after discovering your PCW, but I don't get into that on the videos or on
this site. The novel's thrust goes way beyond the PCW to God. (Click
on "novel" on the navigation bar to learn more about my novel.)
Unlike some other spiritual websites and blogs, my aim is not
to make any money or sell any products. You won't see ads on my Blog, or links to buy anything. I don't run workshops. I don't
give lectures. I'm not even trying to sell my novel, if the truth be told.
I'd just like to get it published and out there. And yes, I am seriously considering self-publishing it. Maybe even offering it as a free e-book. As I said, I am more interested in spreading the ideas in my
novel than in making money. My only obstacle is that because it is
based on so much historical fact, and because it was heavily researched, I need to get "permissions" from a number of sources
before I go ahead. I don't want copyright problems. This is not an easy process, I am learning. That's the trouble when you
write "fiction" that isn't really "pure fiction," I guess.
The most important thing about this Blog (and consequently, the
videos, the novel and the website) is that none of them will give you the keys to the Universe. None of them answers,
for you, the ultimate questions: "Who am I?" and "Why am I here?" No one really knows that--not the churches,
not the ministers, not the New Age gurus, and not me. But, in the end, those are really the only two questions worth blogging
about. All any of us can do is explore, think, write, analyze, read, connect, discuss, and wonder. That, in the end,
is what I hope my Blog encourages everyone to do.
Friday, June 19, 2009 GOOD MORNING. IT'S THURSDAY, JUNE 19TH?????Yesterday morning when I turned on the local news station,
a smiling, bright-eyed news anchor chimed, "Good Morning. It's Thursday, June 19th and here are today's headlines."
The trouble was, it was Thursday, June 18th, not the 19th. (I had to scramble to the calendar just to make
sure I wasn't losing it. No, I wasn't losing it; it was the 18th!) Ms. Confident Newscaster continued to ramble on and
apparently no one in that news studio figured out that she had the wrong date. There was never a correction. Thanks to
her, there are probably hundreds of Florida senior citizens writing the wrong date on checks all week.
THE WRONG DATE! Whenever in your life have you heard a
news professional announce the wrong date, with no one even catching it (but me). So, if this news anchor can't even get the
current date right, should I then believe the accuracy of anything else this station is reporting? No one is checking
things. That's the problem these days. No one looks at the details. No one cares about the details.
The very same day, a man showed up at my door to chop out a tree
stump. I was surprised because the day before the landscaper himself (who had chopped out the tree) specifically
told me that the stump would be taken care of NEXT Wednesday. When I told the man that, he said, "Oh, Rick said he'd
be back on Friday, but he decided I should come today, Thursday, instead." No, Rick never mentioned Friday--he said next Wednesday.
And this is not what I planned on doing THIS Thursday--supervising a landscaper's helper whose boss didn't even
know what day of the week he had previously told me he was coming. As if that wasn't enough, the guy showed up with a dull
axe. He starting chopping a tree stump with a dull axe. Then he said he had to leave to go get it sharpened. Wouldn't you
think he would have LOOKED at the axe before he came? Again, no one is checking. No one is looking at the details.
I could go on with numerous more examples--just look at the David Letterman/Sarah
Palin fiasco this past week. If someone on his so-called staff would have checked the details, he would never
had told that joke that way. He would have known that it was Willow, the 14-year-old, and not the older sister who was at
that Yankees game. But, heh, why check the details?
The point of this blog entry is simply this: we have evolved
into a society where details, specifics, accuracy and double-checking have been thrown out the window. They hold no value
to anyone anymore it seems. The old saying, "A stitch in time saves 9," means nothing today, because no one would notice the
fabric unraveling in the first place.
Is it because we have so many technological devices to do the
mundane for us that we feel it is beneath us to care about the mundane? Like what day it is or what we promised someone or that
we might need to sharpen an axe? Or is it, perhaps, that we have raised mediocrity to a new high? After all, most of
the work force is now made up of the generation who got trophies for everything and for nothing--for just showing up. Work
that would have merited a "D" in the olden days was given a "gold star." They were all told they were special. Special
people don't worry about details, about getting things right. Why sweat the details when you don't have to?
I found it interesting that the other day on The View Whoopi
Goldberg was wearing a T-shirt that said, "Traumatized by Mediocrity." (Just so you know, I stopped writing for a minute
while I went to the online one-look dictionary to check the spelling of both traumatized and mediocrity.
Yes, I care about details--I'm just that kind of girl.) Whoopi never went on to explain why she was wearing that saying on
her chest, but I think I know why. She probably had a guy show up at her door on the wrong day with a dull axe or else she
was listening to a news program with misspelled words, wrong dates or wrong photos. She probably is tired of no one checking,
of no one giving a damn. Maybe she read the latest Newsweek or Time magazine (as I did this week) and wondered
why their "corrections" column (for the previous issues) gets longer and longer and longer. No one is checking. No one notices
the details. No one cares.
So, what does this have to do with spirituality, you ask. I sound
like one cranky, OCD-kind of woman, you say. Well, I've discovered my Personal Connector Word to God,
folks, because I do pay attention to details. I do notice things. I do see the world with a finely-defined
eye. I can tell Wednesday from Friday. I know when my axes are dull and I know when God is sending me a word over and over
and over again. I notice coincidences because I pay attention to the fine print. I see His/Her signs. I am open to this new
way of communication because I am cognizant of the details that make up our everyday lives. And until you become such a person,
you will never discover your Personal Connector Word to God. And, I might add, you won't discover much else
in life either. Trust me, it's God (not the devil) that's in the details!
Tuesday, June 16, 2009 THE PRECIOUS SOUNDS OF SILENCEThis week's Tuesday meme at Blogdumps is "What's your
favorite song?"
When I was a kid, my favorite song was "Happy Birthday." It meant cake,
presents and being the most special person alive for a day. Once I made it over 40, however, the luster of that song wore
off. "Happy Birthday" is hardly a favorite tune these days.
When I was a teenager, I had a "favorite song" just about every week.
Mostly it was a song by the Monkees (yes, I am that old). Music was important when I was in my teens--I didn't drive anywhere
without the radio blasting and it always accompanied me during Saturday morning housecleanings. Even now, when I
hear an "oldie," I am whisked back in time by a particular tune that is forever wrapped in a particular memory.
Now that I have seriously strived to walk a spiritual path, I find
that my favorite song is silence. Not Simon and Garfunkel's "Sounds of Silence," but actually the sounds of silence, itself.
It is when there is no other music in my head but my own communication with God that I find the most joy--the most peace.
I have come to learn (not easily, I might add) that the only way to get to know God is to look inside yourself to find him/her.
In order to do that, you have to get quiet. You have to relish in the sounds of silence, for it is in that quiet space that
God appears, your inner voice will talk to you, and you will receive the direction and comfort you seek.
Ahhhh..........the sounds of silence. No song, no musician, no band,
no entertainer, no instruments can match it. The sound of a bird chirping, the wind rustling in the trees, the ocean crashing
to the shore--these songs of nature come very close, for sure--but nothing, nothing, can take the place of peaceful, restful,
God-full silence.
Monday, June 15, 2009 GOING TO THE BEACH WITH THE RECENTLY DECEASEDI spent last week at the Carolina Shore with my sister,
niece, and a friend. There were also two recently deceased friends who apparently joined us there.
My friend Peg, who was 30 years my senior, passed away in April,
but I only found out about it the day before we went to the beach. I felt so sad. She was someone who had been exceptionally
kind to me when I began a new job in a new place, far away from home. I was young and alone. We became more than work friends,
and even though I left that employment and that area after 5 years, our friendship stood the test of time and distance. We
recently "re-united" in Florida for a few visits, where both she and I ended up years later (coincidentally or not). The funny
thing about Peg was that she and her husband always vacationed at Myrtle Beach. They loved it there. In fact, I probably had
never even heard of Myrtle Beach until Peg. I found it ironic that I was going to the Myrtle Beach area the very next
day after seeing her obituary. I wondered if "Peg would happen along with me."
My sister's friend Marion, about 20 years her senior, died in May.
When my sister was a young secretary, Marion was kind of a mentor to her the way Peg was to me. Advice and support from a
kind, older woman means a lot to a twenty-something woman out in the workforce. Interestingly, Marion and her husband always
vacationed at Myrtle Beach, as well. As my sister tells it, she hadn't heard of Myrtle Beach before that, and being someone
who had never gone on vacation herself, she always thought fondly about it as "somewhere wonderful" that someday she'd like
to go herself. It turned out that the Myrtle Beach area became such a place for my sister; she visited many times over
the years. And, here we were going there, once again, so soon after Marion's passing. I teased my sister that I bet
Marion will be tagging along with us down there, too. Marion and Peg--the two Myrtle Beach lovers.
We didn't give it a whole lot more thought when we arrived in Carolina.
We busily went about our usual activities of watching the waves roll in, feeding the seagulls, and searching for treasures
at the antique and thrift shops. That is, until both Peg and Marion decided to let themselves be known.
My sister bought a huge painting at an antique shop that depicted a
ship tossing around on an angry ocean. It was unusual--different. You don't see many pictures of stormy, angry seas. She showed
it to me and I didn't think much of it until we were loading it in the trunk. Then it hit me! I had totally forgotten about
it until that moment! Peg used to say, over and over, that she wanted a picture of an angry ocean. She could never seem to
find one. I remember that when I got into oil painting, I even attempted to paint her one--that's how adamant she was about
having a stormy sea picture. My painting never did turn out. And here it was! In this Carolina antique shop--the painting
that Peg had always wanted. And I wouldn't have even noticed it (or remembered it) if my sister hadn't found and purchased
it. For me, this was a definite "sign" from Peg. I smiled, and it felt good to think that Peg or Peg's energy was
still circulating--still loving Myrtle Beach--still sending a "hello" to me, her old friend.
Another antique and collectible shop we stopped at--at the last minute,
with little forethought--was Aunt Minnie's. We didn't find much at Aunt Minnie's to suit us and we soon found ourselves
back on the porch of the oceanfront beachhouse, drinking cold drinks and watching the pelicans swoop over a sun-lit sea. I
began talking about Peg, and my sister began reminiscing about Marion. She told how Marion used to say she "saw" her aunt
at the bottom of the stairs after her aunt died. My sister, young and skeptical at the time, was impressed that
this woman she respected so much believed in spirits and ghosts. (Now that's she's older, my sister isn't so skeptical.)
"Yes," said my sister, "Marion used to tell me about seeing her Aunt
Minnie in the house after she died because she and her husband lived with her when they were a young couple.She said it matter-of-factly
as though seeing her dead aunt was natural--a happy thing."
"Who?" I said to my sister, surprised that she was not making the connection.
"Who did she see at the bottom of the stairs that you remember her telling you about after all these years?"
"Her Aunt Minnie. Why?"
"Her AUNT MINNIE!!! And what antique shop were we just in????"
"Oh, my God, I never even thought of that. Until you said it now, I
never made the connection. How odd is that? Aunt Minnie is not exactly a common name--and the antique shop wasn't
Minnie's or Mother Minnie's, it was actually Aunt Minnie's--it has to be a sign from Marion."
At that, chills went up and down my sister's arms.
I've learned from my own experiences that when spirits are around you
and you "make the connection" with them, you DO get goosebumps running up and down your arms and on the back of your
neck. Cold rushes over you. It's almost like they are saying, "Finally! You got it! I'm here!"
Marion needed me to make the connection for my sister and Peg needed
my sister to make the connection for me--but both of them used a very specific memory that each of us had retained after all
those years. A stormy sea painting and "Aunt Minnie." My sister and I both knew that our two dear friends, who recently
passed away, had accompanied us on one last trip to Myrtle Beach. It gave us a good feeling. Isn't life (and death)
grand?
Monday, June 1, 2009 DROPPING THE F-BOMBI've recently become intrigued with the F word. No, I am
not a guttermouth and no, I'm not trying to be hip. In fact, throughout most of my life I never, ever uttered the word. It
just wasn't done. Despite having been a high school teacher moons ago, and despite having heard it sprinkled liberally
in the hallways like powdered sugar on a doughnut, I never fell to saying it. I was, of course, "above" that
sort of thing.
About the only time the F-word made it into my consciousness
was when I was a college student and had to read a novel by Norman Mailer called "Why Are We in Vietnam?" Mailer
used the F word in about every way imaginable in that book: noun, verb, participle, adverb, adjective--I never read
the F word so much in my life. Is it any wonder that when I would be driving home from classes and another driver would cut
me off that, out of the blue, I'd hear myself yelling, "You f---er! What the f---- are you doing?" I was absolutely
appalled at myself. Did I really say that? How could I? I prided myself in never saying this uncouth word. But, if you
read a word over and over, it's apt to seep into your psyche and come shooting out of your mouth when you are under stress!
And out of my holy mouth it came!
The middle of my life was spent criticizing anyone who used this word.
After all, if they were saying it, they were obviously inferior to me--the controlled and virtuous person that I was. I felt
that you must have a very limited vocabulary to indulge in such a lowly word.
As a former English teacher, I was well aware that a word is a
word is a word. There are no good words and no bad words. There are just words. "A rose by any other name would smell as sweet,"
to quote Shakespeare. Words simply stand for something else. They are symbols. What difference does it make if you say "shoot,"
"sugar" or "sh-t," when all three times you obviously mean the same excrement? Likewise with the F-word. Saying
"freaking" doesn't take away the meaning. We all know what "freaking" means.
I was recently shocked by Keith Olbermann, who has taken to putting
"WTF" on his screen, and apparently making it a feature of his show! "WTF" is abbreviated code for--well,
let's just say it doesn't stand for "What the Duck." It's a young person thing, apparently. It's used in texting
and twittering and such. It's hip. It's cool. And the fact that an older man like Keith Olbermann suddenly feels a need
to put it on his national cable news show to attract a younger crowd is . . . well, quite pathetic, actually. What could be
sadder than someone in one generation trying to "belong" to another generation, and in the process doing or saying something
that isn't natural to him? It's not cool, Keith. It's lame. "WTF" really has no place on your show and you know it. WTF
is the matter with you? :-)
It reminds me of when I was a teenager and the thing to say was, "You're
queer." We said it to our siblings and our friends just like you'd say, "You're goofy." I can remember when my sister called
me a "queer" and my mother just about had a stroke. "You don't know what you're saying. That isn't nice," she scolded. She
was beside herself, and we learned very quickly not to say that in front of her. For her generation, the word "queer" meant
"homosexual." But for us teenagers, it didn't mean that at all. It just meant "goofy." I suspect that for young people
saying the F-word or texting "WTF," it's pretty much the same thing. We older folk need not get excited.
Then there's poor ol' Susan Boyle--the flash-in-the-pan 48-year-old
wonder singer from Scotland who wowed the world on YouTube after her amazing performance on "Britain's Got Talent." Apparently,
poor Susan, fed up with the media and being harassed, let go with a few F-bombs and now they say she is in the hospital recuperating
from exhaustion. I guess when a person is pushed against the wall, nothing says "get out of my face" quite like the F-bomb.
Who can really blame her?
In truth, there are times when only the F-bomb will suffice. I have
to confess that there are now times, in my golden years, when the word has come flying out of my mouth only because nothing
else will do. Nothing else can fully express my disdain, frustration, outrage or anger. Every time it does, however,
I take myself to task. How could I have said that? But my big fear really is this: if everyone is using it so frequently
here, there, and everywhere, it will soon (if it hasn't already) lose its shock value. It will be just another word. Then
where will we be? We will need to come up with some new "F" words.
Yes, new "F" words--how about FAITH, FRIENDSHIP and FUN, for starters?
So, what's the point of this f---ing blog, anyway, you ask? And WTF
does this have to do with spirituality? Only that words have different meanings in different times, for different generations,
and in different contexts. Also, that there is power in words. If the F-bomb can elicit such a reaction from people, can you
imagine what a word from God could elicit in people? Can you imagine how wonderful and powerful a person would feel if they
discovered their own personal connector word to God? I know how I feel having discovered mine. And let me tell you,
it's freaking terrific!
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