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Understanding holistic health means understanding your roots and your connection to
Earth and Heaven. The Earth, we’ve been taught, is one of nine or more planets in a
solar system. It has a history, a geology, a topography and many electro-magnetic
forces that create and allow life. It has layers of composition consisting mainly of water
and minerals and its core is a mystery to all but the most creative science fiction
writers. We know it is somehow connected to God, or whomever we believe created it,
and it changes every day. It has within its power the ability to cleanse its rivers and
streams, move its magnetic plates, and nourish those who live within and on it.
The Earth also has the power to self-destruct and to struggle for survival. It reacts to
change, poisons, and man-made obstacles. It dies without water and gasps when it
cannot breathe.
It has rainbows and stars and warming sun that smiles at us in the morning. It sings,
helps birds to soar, cushions our fall, provides our food and heals our wounds. Look in
the mirror. Aren’t we all a part of this wonder? Don’t we also have a history, a
genealogy that gives us our birthmark and clues to our beginning? Aren’t we all
topographic, in different shapes, sizes and colors?
The Earth is 75-80% water. So are we. The Earth’s minerals are the same elements
that compose the tissues, blood, and bones of our bodies. Each of those elements has
either a positive or a negative charge and reacts to the magnetic poles and electro-
magnetic forces within and around us. Our physical selves are very much like the Earth
we walk on.
We separate ourselves from the Earth with our minds, of which we consciously use
only 8 to 12 %. The mind allows us to create, and provides the stimulus to a network of
wires we call nerves to give us movement and the ability to change shape. We can
change our minds as quickly as the magnetic forces within us can change direction. We
can alter our minds with drugs and close our minds with prejudice, judgment and
bigotry. We can open our minds to new ideas, new places, new experiences, and seal
our minds when our egos are challenged or afraid. The mind and the body are a team,
and what we think or believe is reflected in our body language, our walk, our stance
and our vision. We see and hear what we want to and physically react to loud noises,
violent attacks or sad stories. As children, we cried or peed in our pants when we saw
or heard something frightening. Out of trust, we allowed our minds to be controlled by
radio and television, advertising, and the misguided wisdom of others. Because we
gave up the power to reason for ourselves and have stayed too afraid of the world, or
Hell, or the wrath of God, we have also lost the power to unconditionally love ourselves
and others. We’re no longer in charge of our health or happiness. How often do we
chide the person who has “a mind of his own?” Are we so afraid? Have we been taught
so well to fear instead of love that we no longer resemble the precious and unique
individuals we were intended to be? There are only two emotions that truly exist in our
lives, fear and love. Emotions are energy in motion. All feelings, thoughts and actions
can be reduced to one question. Are we coming from fear or love? If we are coming
from fear, we have a responsibility to face it, overcome it, or change ourselves so we
come only from love.
Does the Earth have a soul or a spirit, as we believe we do? Is there anyone who
doesn’t believe there is a part of us that’s untouchable, unknown, unrealized? We
have free will, a gift, and the power to choose, but what part of us knows the outcome
and the reason? Our spirit is a complicated energy, an appendage of a God that knows
all. A whisper, a breeze, a fall day, an eagle’s cry, a baby’s smile – with each we feel
something in our souls. We search for soul mates through dating services or parties
and long for the forever relationship that we believe completes us. We attach the
heart to the soul in songs and greeting cards, knowing somehow that love is
connected to soul and that soul is a good thing. For some there are spirit guides, to
others angels, and still others unseen teachers who have the key to our soul and our
purpose and help us on our paths. Indeed the Earth has a soul. It, too, is a unique
creation, entrusted with our well-being, unconditionally providing food, water and life,
and somewhere deep inside knowing its purpose.
Holistic health or the wholistic approach to health considers all of these things when
dealing with imbalance. There is no drug or cure for a broken heart, but there are
questions to be asked, patterns to be discovered, physical reactions, mindful changes,
and spiritual comforts. To approach the body holistically is to encompass and respect
the whole being. Our creation began long before our conception and birth. Healthy,
balanced parents, both mother and father, are essential to a baby’s well-being. If one
parent abuses alcohol or drugs, our children will be affected and thus the
grandchildren. If one parent takes over-the-counter medications on a regular basis,
our livers and interstitial tissues hold the memory. If we are conceived in anger, with
guilt, without love, we will live those lessons, and possibly inflict others with the
projection of those negative feelings and thoughts. No one of us is alone. No one’s life
is untouched by others. Each of us is part of a continuous circle, each life cycle
learning and building on the one before.
My Christmas Card to You
When my daughter was small, and could still feel the spirit of Christmas, we would pick
out Christmas trees and all the trimmings. Not one tree, but twenty or more. Not one
string of lights, but enough to brighten all the evergreens. I would check my list of
battered women, runaway and non-returnable kids, and single-mothers struggling to
make ends meet. Sometimes it would snow, and other times the sun would melt the
snowmen, but every Christmas we’d load up the car and silently deliver the trees and
trimmings to the addresses on the list. On Christmas eve, we’d drive by all the houses
and shed a silent tear of joy at the sight of the trees in the windows. My little one would
smile and gently take my hand, a sign that her heart was also smiling.
When my daughter was small, we would invite as many of her friends as we could to
Christmas Eve dinner. All the furniture was moved out of the way, and a very long table
for 12 or 20 was set up in the middle of the living room, close to the tree, and away from
the parents. I would ask each parent to bring a gift for Santa’s bag, something special
they wanted their child to get from Santa. What the parents didn’t know is that I would
then set out to get another gift for each child, then wrap it and label it, “With love, from
Santa.” Santa would show up just after dessert and kids and parents alike would smile
widely as we sang carols and waited eagerly for the gifts to be taken from his bag. One
gift, then another, with every child smiling in amazement. One gift, then another, and
every parent was just as amazed. Parents young and old looked at each other, at the
gifts they didn’t buy, and at the man in the red suit. We knew we had rekindled a few
hearts and helped them believe that Santa could be real.
When my daughter got older, she asked that I stop having Santa Claus come to the
party, and then eventually asked that we not have a party as her friends had changed
and she was too “grown up” for such things. She didn’t have time to deliver trees any
more, and my own finances prohibited me from doing such things. Times had changed.
The snow was still gentle, the sun sometimes still melting the ice, but somehow we had
gotten too busy, too poor, too proud.
As I walked to a nearby store on Christmas Eve, my heart felt heavy and my mind shifted
from melancholy to anger and back again. I felt like a victim. A victim of time and
circumstance and a life that wasn’t quite what I wanted or thought it should be. As I
emerged from the store, a hand spun me around on the ice-covered parking lot. A man
with a scar and a terrifying look in his eyes demanded money. I pushed him away and
went back in the store for help. They couldn’t get involved, they said, because the
incident didn’t happen in the store. I should call the police fro the corner phone booth.
I looked for the phone, and the man with the scar was in the booth. I started toward
home, and he came toward me. I turned toward the store, and he walked away.
Eventually the cat and mouse game was over, and as I opened the door to the store, a
large chunk of ice hit my cheek and eye, then splattered into the store. Now they could
call, the manager said, because the ice was inside of the store. The police drove me
home and later found the man with the scar. Christmas day they asked me to come to
the station and press charges, but I had spoken to an elder and a mentor. I told them to
let him go. Later that day, I searched for him. Through a driving snow storm, I walked
the streets until I finally saw him standing with some other men. “Remember me?” I
asked. He stepped back and readied himself for a fight. “I’m the one you hit with the
ice.” He stared and I watched his hands clench into fists. “It’s okay,” I said. “I’m not
here to hurt you. I just wanted to say, I don’t agree with what you did. I understand
why, and I believe you could be better than that. I disagree, but I forgive you.” I put my
hand out to shake his and eventually he took it. I smiled at him, said Merry Christmas,
and made my way back home. I forgave him because I had helped to create the energy
that made me a victim. I forgave because we are all a part of each other and I attracted
his response. I forgave, but I didn’t condone. I forgave, but I didn’t run or stay silent.
When I checked with police friends some time later, they told me the scarred man now
worked in a missionary helping others stay off the streets. My native american
grandmothers had taught me unconditional love, and I honored them.
When my daughter was small, she knew my love for her was unconditional. She knew
the “rules”, the boundaries, and knew she was free to do and be all things within those
limits. My daughter is now in college, in love, and often in chaos, but she still knows
that love, those rules, those boundaries. And now it’s Christmas. Because of
circumstance, money, other people’s health, she and I will spend Christmas apart. But I’
ll still trim the tree, invite Santa to dinner, send love to those who have been beaten,
forgotten, thrown away, or lost. And in my heart, somewhere deep in my soul, I’ll know
that Christmas still is, and my spirit still is, my daughter will always be, and that
unconditional love is forever.
Merry Christmas.
APRIL 16, 2007
MASSACRE
Tears fell in Virginia today. Sobs were heard across the nation. A gunman with a Visa
has broken our hearts. Why do we cry? Why do we feel anger, grief, outrage, and fear?
Some say we need better campus security. Some say we need gun control. Some say
they understand that the gunman was enraged by his girlfriend. Some were sure it was
a terrorist. Some are certain it will happen again. Some are afraid for their children.
Many, even those who say they do not believe, thanked God it wasn’t their child, their
father, their sister, or brother. They thanked God it wasn’t them. And then life goes on.
We check the stock reports to see how oil is doing and if our investments are making
us money. We watch the news and listen to pundits analyze the reasons and foretell
the next political agenda. We listen to talk radio as experts rationalize behaviors. And
then we thank God again that it wasn’t us. We pray a little. Cry a little. And then turn on
the Sopranos or hateful rap music or Howard Stern. And we wonder why? We wonder
how?
How did he get the guns? Why did he kill others and not just his girlfriend? Why didn’t
the alarm go out sooner? Who can we blame? Who’s at fault?
We are. We have created all that we see and feel. We are at fault. We have
encouraged and allowed our children to listen to hate. We have taught the children of
other countries to listen to our anger, our negativity, our lust for money and love. We
give them talk radio and television and films and music that depict us as atheistic,
misogynistic, decadent imperialists who only believe in money, sex, and violence. We
interpret the right to bear arms to mean we can all carry guns and use them as we
please. We interpret the right to free speech to mean we can say anything to anyone,
anywhere we please. We read the words on the Statue of Liberty and interpret the
“tired and poor, the huddled masses,” to mean anyone from anywhere who wants to
use us or abuse us. We interpret the constitution to mean only some of us are in a
nation under God. So what do we do now? How do we avoid more broken hearts, more
senseless death? How do we begin to heal?
We cannot heal if we mask the cause. We cannot begin to balance our lives through
surgery. If we only put borders on our schools, who have we imprisoned? If we argue
gun control for another generation and allow only the killers access to weapons, who
have we protected? If we send our children to the mall with credit cards and give them
computers and the freedom to choose before they have the foundation for behavior,
how will they lead the next generation? If we teach defense and say we can’t stop
these things from happening we can only learn how to respond when it does, how do
we teach our children, our family, our country to move forward and grow?
Americans need to stand up and claim their birthright. Americans need to take
responsibility for what we have created within our boundaries. It begins at home. It
begins with the FCC. It begins with overcoming the fear that someone might not like us
if we do what’s right, instead of what’s accepted by the flock. It begins with the
government, a government that is supposed to be by the people and for the people. A
government that is not supposed to provide funds, but leadership. A government that
should not have personal agendas, but solutions. A government that should not tax
each solution Americans need and then give freely to those who aren’t or don’t want to
be Americans.
We, the people of the United States of America, need to reclaim our responsibility as
Americans. To be an American means we believe in one nation under God. We believe
that charity begins at home. We believe and know that hard work made our country
great and that continuing that work isn’t so hard when you love what you’re working
for. We, the people, need to take our children by the hands and teach them, or reteach
them, that they have been given the gift of life and liberty, and that that gift does not
come unconditionally. We need them to know that being an American means bearing
arms to defend your country and that free speech means honoring your words and the
people you speak them to. We need them to learn that are responsible for choosing
the people who work for them, who govern them, and that the right to choose is
uniquely American.
We can only begin to heal when we stop the churning of the melting pot. We can only
begin to find the cause and change it when we are truthful with ourselves. When we
admit we’ve been lazy about making our government do what’s right for the country
and therefore what’s right for our family. When we admit that all the people of our
country who have chosen to live by the laws, language, and beliefs of our country are
our family. When we admit that we haven’t been the parents we should have been, the
workers we should have been, the faithful we should have been, or even the warriors
we should have been. When we stop the uniquely male energy that always relies on
the warrior and find the balance between male and female that allows for peace and
vision and truth and responsibility to the Earth and its people.
Tears fell in Virginia, and unless we begin with ourselves and begin to teach each other
the ways to live on this Earth, they will fall again. Whom, then, will you blame?
Listen to this podcast on the home page.
<a href="http://www.blogtopsites.com/health/"><img style="border:none" src="http:
//www.blogtopsites.com/track_53286.gif" alt="Health Blogs - Blog Top Sites" /></a>
Earth and Heaven. The Earth, we’ve been taught, is one of nine or more planets in a
solar system. It has a history, a geology, a topography and many electro-magnetic
forces that create and allow life. It has layers of composition consisting mainly of water
and minerals and its core is a mystery to all but the most creative science fiction
writers. We know it is somehow connected to God, or whomever we believe created it,
and it changes every day. It has within its power the ability to cleanse its rivers and
streams, move its magnetic plates, and nourish those who live within and on it.
The Earth also has the power to self-destruct and to struggle for survival. It reacts to
change, poisons, and man-made obstacles. It dies without water and gasps when it
cannot breathe.
It has rainbows and stars and warming sun that smiles at us in the morning. It sings,
helps birds to soar, cushions our fall, provides our food and heals our wounds. Look in
the mirror. Aren’t we all a part of this wonder? Don’t we also have a history, a
genealogy that gives us our birthmark and clues to our beginning? Aren’t we all
topographic, in different shapes, sizes and colors?
The Earth is 75-80% water. So are we. The Earth’s minerals are the same elements
that compose the tissues, blood, and bones of our bodies. Each of those elements has
either a positive or a negative charge and reacts to the magnetic poles and electro-
magnetic forces within and around us. Our physical selves are very much like the Earth
we walk on.
We separate ourselves from the Earth with our minds, of which we consciously use
only 8 to 12 %. The mind allows us to create, and provides the stimulus to a network of
wires we call nerves to give us movement and the ability to change shape. We can
change our minds as quickly as the magnetic forces within us can change direction. We
can alter our minds with drugs and close our minds with prejudice, judgment and
bigotry. We can open our minds to new ideas, new places, new experiences, and seal
our minds when our egos are challenged or afraid. The mind and the body are a team,
and what we think or believe is reflected in our body language, our walk, our stance
and our vision. We see and hear what we want to and physically react to loud noises,
violent attacks or sad stories. As children, we cried or peed in our pants when we saw
or heard something frightening. Out of trust, we allowed our minds to be controlled by
radio and television, advertising, and the misguided wisdom of others. Because we
gave up the power to reason for ourselves and have stayed too afraid of the world, or
Hell, or the wrath of God, we have also lost the power to unconditionally love ourselves
and others. We’re no longer in charge of our health or happiness. How often do we
chide the person who has “a mind of his own?” Are we so afraid? Have we been taught
so well to fear instead of love that we no longer resemble the precious and unique
individuals we were intended to be? There are only two emotions that truly exist in our
lives, fear and love. Emotions are energy in motion. All feelings, thoughts and actions
can be reduced to one question. Are we coming from fear or love? If we are coming
from fear, we have a responsibility to face it, overcome it, or change ourselves so we
come only from love.
Does the Earth have a soul or a spirit, as we believe we do? Is there anyone who
doesn’t believe there is a part of us that’s untouchable, unknown, unrealized? We
have free will, a gift, and the power to choose, but what part of us knows the outcome
and the reason? Our spirit is a complicated energy, an appendage of a God that knows
all. A whisper, a breeze, a fall day, an eagle’s cry, a baby’s smile – with each we feel
something in our souls. We search for soul mates through dating services or parties
and long for the forever relationship that we believe completes us. We attach the
heart to the soul in songs and greeting cards, knowing somehow that love is
connected to soul and that soul is a good thing. For some there are spirit guides, to
others angels, and still others unseen teachers who have the key to our soul and our
purpose and help us on our paths. Indeed the Earth has a soul. It, too, is a unique
creation, entrusted with our well-being, unconditionally providing food, water and life,
and somewhere deep inside knowing its purpose.
Holistic health or the wholistic approach to health considers all of these things when
dealing with imbalance. There is no drug or cure for a broken heart, but there are
questions to be asked, patterns to be discovered, physical reactions, mindful changes,
and spiritual comforts. To approach the body holistically is to encompass and respect
the whole being. Our creation began long before our conception and birth. Healthy,
balanced parents, both mother and father, are essential to a baby’s well-being. If one
parent abuses alcohol or drugs, our children will be affected and thus the
grandchildren. If one parent takes over-the-counter medications on a regular basis,
our livers and interstitial tissues hold the memory. If we are conceived in anger, with
guilt, without love, we will live those lessons, and possibly inflict others with the
projection of those negative feelings and thoughts. No one of us is alone. No one’s life
is untouched by others. Each of us is part of a continuous circle, each life cycle
learning and building on the one before.
My Christmas Card to You
When my daughter was small, and could still feel the spirit of Christmas, we would pick
out Christmas trees and all the trimmings. Not one tree, but twenty or more. Not one
string of lights, but enough to brighten all the evergreens. I would check my list of
battered women, runaway and non-returnable kids, and single-mothers struggling to
make ends meet. Sometimes it would snow, and other times the sun would melt the
snowmen, but every Christmas we’d load up the car and silently deliver the trees and
trimmings to the addresses on the list. On Christmas eve, we’d drive by all the houses
and shed a silent tear of joy at the sight of the trees in the windows. My little one would
smile and gently take my hand, a sign that her heart was also smiling.
When my daughter was small, we would invite as many of her friends as we could to
Christmas Eve dinner. All the furniture was moved out of the way, and a very long table
for 12 or 20 was set up in the middle of the living room, close to the tree, and away from
the parents. I would ask each parent to bring a gift for Santa’s bag, something special
they wanted their child to get from Santa. What the parents didn’t know is that I would
then set out to get another gift for each child, then wrap it and label it, “With love, from
Santa.” Santa would show up just after dessert and kids and parents alike would smile
widely as we sang carols and waited eagerly for the gifts to be taken from his bag. One
gift, then another, with every child smiling in amazement. One gift, then another, and
every parent was just as amazed. Parents young and old looked at each other, at the
gifts they didn’t buy, and at the man in the red suit. We knew we had rekindled a few
hearts and helped them believe that Santa could be real.
When my daughter got older, she asked that I stop having Santa Claus come to the
party, and then eventually asked that we not have a party as her friends had changed
and she was too “grown up” for such things. She didn’t have time to deliver trees any
more, and my own finances prohibited me from doing such things. Times had changed.
The snow was still gentle, the sun sometimes still melting the ice, but somehow we had
gotten too busy, too poor, too proud.
As I walked to a nearby store on Christmas Eve, my heart felt heavy and my mind shifted
from melancholy to anger and back again. I felt like a victim. A victim of time and
circumstance and a life that wasn’t quite what I wanted or thought it should be. As I
emerged from the store, a hand spun me around on the ice-covered parking lot. A man
with a scar and a terrifying look in his eyes demanded money. I pushed him away and
went back in the store for help. They couldn’t get involved, they said, because the
incident didn’t happen in the store. I should call the police fro the corner phone booth.
I looked for the phone, and the man with the scar was in the booth. I started toward
home, and he came toward me. I turned toward the store, and he walked away.
Eventually the cat and mouse game was over, and as I opened the door to the store, a
large chunk of ice hit my cheek and eye, then splattered into the store. Now they could
call, the manager said, because the ice was inside of the store. The police drove me
home and later found the man with the scar. Christmas day they asked me to come to
the station and press charges, but I had spoken to an elder and a mentor. I told them to
let him go. Later that day, I searched for him. Through a driving snow storm, I walked
the streets until I finally saw him standing with some other men. “Remember me?” I
asked. He stepped back and readied himself for a fight. “I’m the one you hit with the
ice.” He stared and I watched his hands clench into fists. “It’s okay,” I said. “I’m not
here to hurt you. I just wanted to say, I don’t agree with what you did. I understand
why, and I believe you could be better than that. I disagree, but I forgive you.” I put my
hand out to shake his and eventually he took it. I smiled at him, said Merry Christmas,
and made my way back home. I forgave him because I had helped to create the energy
that made me a victim. I forgave because we are all a part of each other and I attracted
his response. I forgave, but I didn’t condone. I forgave, but I didn’t run or stay silent.
When I checked with police friends some time later, they told me the scarred man now
worked in a missionary helping others stay off the streets. My native american
grandmothers had taught me unconditional love, and I honored them.
When my daughter was small, she knew my love for her was unconditional. She knew
the “rules”, the boundaries, and knew she was free to do and be all things within those
limits. My daughter is now in college, in love, and often in chaos, but she still knows
that love, those rules, those boundaries. And now it’s Christmas. Because of
circumstance, money, other people’s health, she and I will spend Christmas apart. But I’
ll still trim the tree, invite Santa to dinner, send love to those who have been beaten,
forgotten, thrown away, or lost. And in my heart, somewhere deep in my soul, I’ll know
that Christmas still is, and my spirit still is, my daughter will always be, and that
unconditional love is forever.
Merry Christmas.
APRIL 16, 2007
MASSACRE
Tears fell in Virginia today. Sobs were heard across the nation. A gunman with a Visa
has broken our hearts. Why do we cry? Why do we feel anger, grief, outrage, and fear?
Some say we need better campus security. Some say we need gun control. Some say
they understand that the gunman was enraged by his girlfriend. Some were sure it was
a terrorist. Some are certain it will happen again. Some are afraid for their children.
Many, even those who say they do not believe, thanked God it wasn’t their child, their
father, their sister, or brother. They thanked God it wasn’t them. And then life goes on.
We check the stock reports to see how oil is doing and if our investments are making
us money. We watch the news and listen to pundits analyze the reasons and foretell
the next political agenda. We listen to talk radio as experts rationalize behaviors. And
then we thank God again that it wasn’t us. We pray a little. Cry a little. And then turn on
the Sopranos or hateful rap music or Howard Stern. And we wonder why? We wonder
how?
How did he get the guns? Why did he kill others and not just his girlfriend? Why didn’t
the alarm go out sooner? Who can we blame? Who’s at fault?
We are. We have created all that we see and feel. We are at fault. We have
encouraged and allowed our children to listen to hate. We have taught the children of
other countries to listen to our anger, our negativity, our lust for money and love. We
give them talk radio and television and films and music that depict us as atheistic,
misogynistic, decadent imperialists who only believe in money, sex, and violence. We
interpret the right to bear arms to mean we can all carry guns and use them as we
please. We interpret the right to free speech to mean we can say anything to anyone,
anywhere we please. We read the words on the Statue of Liberty and interpret the
“tired and poor, the huddled masses,” to mean anyone from anywhere who wants to
use us or abuse us. We interpret the constitution to mean only some of us are in a
nation under God. So what do we do now? How do we avoid more broken hearts, more
senseless death? How do we begin to heal?
We cannot heal if we mask the cause. We cannot begin to balance our lives through
surgery. If we only put borders on our schools, who have we imprisoned? If we argue
gun control for another generation and allow only the killers access to weapons, who
have we protected? If we send our children to the mall with credit cards and give them
computers and the freedom to choose before they have the foundation for behavior,
how will they lead the next generation? If we teach defense and say we can’t stop
these things from happening we can only learn how to respond when it does, how do
we teach our children, our family, our country to move forward and grow?
Americans need to stand up and claim their birthright. Americans need to take
responsibility for what we have created within our boundaries. It begins at home. It
begins with the FCC. It begins with overcoming the fear that someone might not like us
if we do what’s right, instead of what’s accepted by the flock. It begins with the
government, a government that is supposed to be by the people and for the people. A
government that is not supposed to provide funds, but leadership. A government that
should not have personal agendas, but solutions. A government that should not tax
each solution Americans need and then give freely to those who aren’t or don’t want to
be Americans.
We, the people of the United States of America, need to reclaim our responsibility as
Americans. To be an American means we believe in one nation under God. We believe
that charity begins at home. We believe and know that hard work made our country
great and that continuing that work isn’t so hard when you love what you’re working
for. We, the people, need to take our children by the hands and teach them, or reteach
them, that they have been given the gift of life and liberty, and that that gift does not
come unconditionally. We need them to know that being an American means bearing
arms to defend your country and that free speech means honoring your words and the
people you speak them to. We need them to learn that are responsible for choosing
the people who work for them, who govern them, and that the right to choose is
uniquely American.
We can only begin to heal when we stop the churning of the melting pot. We can only
begin to find the cause and change it when we are truthful with ourselves. When we
admit we’ve been lazy about making our government do what’s right for the country
and therefore what’s right for our family. When we admit that all the people of our
country who have chosen to live by the laws, language, and beliefs of our country are
our family. When we admit that we haven’t been the parents we should have been, the
workers we should have been, the faithful we should have been, or even the warriors
we should have been. When we stop the uniquely male energy that always relies on
the warrior and find the balance between male and female that allows for peace and
vision and truth and responsibility to the Earth and its people.
Tears fell in Virginia, and unless we begin with ourselves and begin to teach each other
the ways to live on this Earth, they will fall again. Whom, then, will you blame?
Listen to this podcast on the home page.
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