“The greatest gift we can give to a person in pain is to hold in our own minds the thought that there is a light beyond this darkness. What goes on externally is only the tip of the iceberg in any situation. The lessons, the real changes, the opportunities to grow-these are things the body’s eyes can’t see. They remain beneath the spiritual water line, but they are there. And they represent a much more vast picture of the soul’s journey than what we can see from the perspective of our physical senses. Growth is not always about getting what we think we want. Always, it’s about becoming the men and women we have the potential to be. Loving, pure, honest, clear.” ~ Marianne Williamson: A Return to Love: Reflections on the Principles of A Course in Miracles
I feel as though people do not always take the time to fully communicate with each other. Is it because we are afraid to hear what someone else has to say? Is it because we are afraid to expose our vulnerable places and spaces to others? When we communicate with loved ones, we find communion…
“Communion is the root word in communication, reminding us that to communicate with another person isn’t to pass on information.” ~ Deepak Chopra: The Path to Love
They were two friends who had known each other for four years and yet they were proverbial strangers. On the final day of summer, they prepared to ride out together on his highly polished black and chrome Harley Davidson towards the verdant coast of Cape Ann, to the port of Gloucester, Massachusetts. There were billowy cumulus clouds in the sky but still, the sun was shining fiercely. Even with the indulgent end of summer wind that bore the perception of fall in its flurries, it was the epitome of the perfect day for riding. She swung her right leg up over the seat, positioned her left foot on the foot peg and slid onto the back of his bike. Once positioned comfortably on the back seat of the rumbling Harley, he instinctively took his cue that she was ready to roll and they roared off in search of some succor for their solitary souls.
As they rode along the winding road to Gloucester, the lush green landscape showed an indication of the ambiance of fall colors to arise as the temperatures shifted with the season. Yes, the day was already holding the promise of fulfillment. Both of them appeared to be drinking in the scenery as though it were a snifter of fine cognac, the taste of which rolled onto their taste buds, washed down their throats and warmed their souls. Over the thunderous roar of the Harley engine, they conversed intermittently of the splendor of the diverse terrain where they dwelt. (more…)
On a cloudy and rainy day, I find myself reflecting on my life, searching for an experience that changed who I am in the world. I have had more than a few life-altering experiences in my 56, almost 57 years that have influenced my life in many profound ways. As a woman of many stories to tell, that all seem to intertwine in the narrative of my life, the one that stands in clear alignment when I map them all out, is the day I met John Kerry for the first time, ten years ago this month, September 2003. For that day ultimately empowered me and changed my life in many ways. (more…)
I’m taking classes at UML. My first writing exercise for English Comp is to write about a “special place” that is meaningful to me. I spend a lot of time at the Parker River National Wildlife Refuge. It is my “special place”…
When I think of a “special place”, the first place that comes to mind is the Parker River National Wildlife Refuge on Plum Island in Newburyport, Massachusetts. As a child growing up in West Newbury, Massachusetts in the 1960’s it was legal to camp on Sandy Point, which is the southern tip of Plum Island and the Parker River National Wildlife Refuge. As a small child, I grew up spending a few summers in my early life, camping with my family and numerous aunts, uncles and cousins on my mother’s side of the family. Days were spent climbing dunes, building sand castles, racing snails and simply living simply. Those early childhood memories of the Refuge, fuel a deep abiding love for the 7 mile stretch of estuary land along the coast of Massachusetts.
Salt Pannes at the Parker River National Wildlife Refuge
The Refuge, as folks acquainted with refer to it, is unique in its diverse landscape and wildlife. Now, decades after my childhood and a 20 year stretch of living in Los Angeles, I am drawn to the Refuge at least once a week to revel in its beauty, and immerse my self in the sheer peace of mind that being there invokes in me. Each visit is a new view as the skies, tides and seasons change to colors and contrasts of the Refuge on a daily, if not hour to hour, minute to minute basis cycle. In my world, the Refuge is church. It is there I go to seek solace. It is there I go to celebrate. I have lived on both coasts of United States, visited the south of France, Paris, London and Amsterdam and still for every other place, I have lived or visited, no place can claim the designation of my “special place” more than the Parker River National Wildlife Refuge.
Today, I re-mind myself that to be prosperous I must accept that prosperity is the natural state of acceptance for all that I have. When I am grateful for my abundance, in every way, I am open to receive. ~ Pamela J. Leavey
Sandy Point ~ c. Pamela J. Leavey 2012
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Musing and Rambling
Sometimes I muse and I ramble because I can... I muse about life and things that matter to me...
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