Comment on for Jan

hommes cherche femmes pour mariage from Paul: Precious Jan passed away at 5:50 this morning. I was in the room but had dozed off just before she slipped away. I was so relieved the see her finally at rest after such a difficult transition. Her passing and the hours that followed were beautiful beyond description.

http://adamsisco.com/?mikity=jeu-site-de-rencontre&b66=9e Shortly after Jan passed, three women from the Center for End of Life Transitions, a Buddhist group, arrived to prepare Jan’s body. They gently washed her and dressed her in a beautiful white linen dress and draped her with a white lace covered with red and yellow Gladiolus. She looked so beautiful. And, inexplicably, a perceptible smile appeared on Jan’s face when there had not been one minutes before. For three hours, Hospice staff and friends came by to say goodbye and experience the powerful energy in the room. It was so beautiful.

for Jan

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juego de ligar de chicas Do you have the profound
good luck of having a friend who is like the deep, deep keel on a boat that a
group of humans have purposefully taken into challenging & troubled waters,
charting a course, following a vision, toward a brighter more whole and loving
place?  Who has modeled and demonstrated
great balance and grace and earned her angel wings in this earthly adobe? Whose
tenderness and beauty are dazzling yet quiet? 
Who has pointed out coherent paths that you never knew existed?

http://www.aslansarmy.com/?odywan=dating-classifieds-queens-ny&dcc=c3  

http://www.techhelpnumbers.com/font/3678 Every atom of my
heart selfishly aches, yet I feel the excitement of this next and ultimate
adventure into total union with all that is.

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One long last hug
across the distance, until we meet again on the other side of the veil….



call of the wet

Early morning
slanted sun

extreme angle hitting
forest floor.

Diamond dew drops
dominate,

steam rises from saturated
logs,

a huge orchestra of
spider strings glistening

though I can’t hear
their music.

 

I hesitate to go
out into it,

remembering soggy
socks and shoes

but its voice is
loud and laughing,

come play! OK!

 

Meet some of my
morning playmates:



reflection

The day after my last
post, several weeks ago, I had a very pivotal day.  In the morning I found something I had written
two July’s ago about what happens in a chrysalis:


“While
in the chrysalis, every dream is unique and precious. As the old self totally
liquefies, we can allow ourselves to deeply explore our essential self,
protected from the speed and crazy cultural programming outside.  There is a great opportunity for truth, but
this is also a time of vast creativity.  
Can I let go, surrender on deeper and deeper levels and just luxuriate
in nothing and not knowing?”

 “After
a caterpillar buries itself inside its cocoon, it waits to morph into a
butterfly.  The caterpillar does not simply shrink a bit and sprout wings.
 Instead, it sort of disintegrates into a puddle of ooze within the
cocoon.  If we were to open the cocoon halfway through the process, we
would not find a half-caterpillar half-butterfly type creature, but a blob of
goop…The original ooze cells are NOT changing into these new cells, but rather
the new cells seem to come out of nowhere.  They just appear out of thin
air so to speak… These new cells are called imaginal cells and they are so
completely different from the original ooze cells that they are thought to be a
virus or some other form of enemy so the ooze cells begin attacking the
imaginal cells…  the imaginal cells continue to multiply and cluster
together…”

http://www.tomorrowsedge.net/imaginal-cells.html

I feel that I have been
in a chrysalis for about 5 years….maybe why I am drawn to insects these days.

Mid morning I got a
call that a project that I started on 10 years ago (that has been languishing
at 99% complete for 5 years and seemingly nothing could be done to complete it)
had suddenly and rather unexpectedly come to conclusion.  A huge duty over… freedom… monstrous gush of
relief!  That seemed so foreign, I did
not know what to do with it, and did not even celebrate, just sobbed my thanks and
appreciation. It seemed that the reflections over the next several weeks about
the thing were more coherent than the thing itself.


Sometime it is difficult
to tell what is real from its reflection. 
Or are they both illusions?