The Rooster is at THE Door

HDR_Beauti_Rooster

On this last day of the Year 2016. The Year of the Rooster is just a cock a dilly doo away. In some ways it has seemed a very long and frustrating year.

It seems it was just 2015 and we awaited the ball too drop on 2016.

We lost so many loved ones in the Hollywood scene this year, persons in the news, on our favorite TV shows. For some their lights burned long and remained prosperous.  Others succumbed to the star struck illusion of fame and prosperity. The ones that light so quickly, burn so fast and fade away.

I have not made any resolutions this year.  Seems to always be the same ones.
As usual my will power does not hold me too it and I am back where I started.

We can only do our best each day. We are given a gift each day we awaken to a brand new possibility.
One full of promise and change.

No one person can change another,we can only change ourselves. We waste valuable time and energy trying too do-overs on others we love and care for.

The most important lessons I have learned in life.

Love,family and true blue friends are most important.
Judge no one, everyone has their own issues they deal with on a daily basis.
Love unconditionally
Never give up
Always have Hope
and a bit of change in your pocket.

Change_People

Count Our Blessings

This song has been a favorite of mine for many years. We do well to remember all our blessings each and everyday.

Life is so fleeting.

It is a Christian hymn written by the 18th century pastor and hymnist Robert Robinson.

Robert Robinson penned the words at age 22 in the year 1757.

  1. Come, Thou Fount of every blessing,
    Tune my heart to sing Thy grace;
    Streams of mercy, never-ceasing,
    Call for songs of loudest praise.
    Teach me some melodious sonnet,
    Sung by flaming tongues above;
    Praise the mount! I’m fixed upon it,
    Mount of Thy redeeming love.
  2. Here I’ll raise my Ebenezer;
    Hither by Thy help I’m come;
    And I hope, by Thy good pleasure,
    Safely to arrive at home.
    Jesus sought me when a stranger,
    Wand’ring from the fold of God;
    He, to rescue me from danger,
    Interposed His precious blood.
  3. Oh, to grace how great a debtor
    Daily I’m constrained to be!
    Let Thy goodness, like a fetter,
    Bind my feeble heart to Thee.
    “Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,”
    Long I cried to be made pure;
    “Here’s my heart, O take and seal it,
    Work in me Thy double cure.”
  4. Hallelujah! I have found it,
    The full cleansing I had craved,
    And to all the world I’ll sound it:
    They too may be wholly saved.
    I am sealed by Thy sweet Spirit,
    Prone no longer now to roam;
    And Thy voice, I’ll humbly hear it,
    For Thy presence is my home.

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Well Excuse Me

Listening-Skills

I am reading a wonderful little book called “Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff and it’s All Small Stuff”  by Richard Carlson

This one of my favorites as I feel each of us has done this or had it done too us.

Don’t interrupt others or finish their sentences

When you interrupt someone, or finish his or her sentence, you have to keep track not only of your own thoughts but of those of the person you are interrupting as well.

This tendency (which, by the way, is extremely common in busy people), encourages both parties to speed up their speech and their thinking.

This, in turn, makes both people nervous, irritable, and annoyed. It is also the cause of many arguments, because if there’s one thing almost everyone resents, it’s someone who doesn’t listen to what they are saying.

Once you begin noticing yourself interrupting other, you’ll see that this tendency is nothing more than an innocent habit that has become invisible to you. This is good news because it means that all you really have to do is to begin catching yourself when you forget.

Remind yourself (before a conversation begins, if possible) to be patient and wait. Tell yourself to allow the other person to finish speaking before you take your turn.

You’ll notice, right away, how much the interactions with the people in your life will improve as a direct result of this simple act.

The people you communicate with will feel much more relaxed around you when they feel heard and listened to.

You’ll also notice how much more relaxed you’ll feel when you stop interrupting others.

Your heart and pulse rates will slow down, and you’ll begin to enjoy your conversations rather than rush through them.
This is an easy way to become a more relaxed and loving person.

Listen~Hear~Understand

 

Photo by C. m ART z  2016

From the Daily Om

Cynthia says~I always knew we should listen  for the whispers but now realize it is most important that we hear and understand them.

November 15, 2016
Hearing the Whisper
Underneath the Noise

by Madisyn Taylor

There is beauty and power when we listen to the whisper.

You may have noticed that if you want to speak to someone in a noisy, crowded room, the best thing to do is lean close and whisper. Yelling in an attempt to be louder than the room’s noise generally only hurts your throat and adds to the chaos.

Similarly, that still, small voice within each of us does not try to compete with the mental chatter on the surface of our minds, nor does it attempt to overpower the volume of the raucous world outside. If we want to hear it, no matter what is going on around us or even inside us, we can always tune in to that soft voice underneath the surrounding noise.

It is generally true that the more insistent voices in our heads delivering messages that make us feel panicky or afraid are of questionable authority. They may be voices we internalized from childhood or from the culture, and as such they possess only half-truths.

Their urgency stems from their disconnectedness from the center of our being, and their urgency is what catches our attention.

The other voice that whispers reassurances that everything is fundamentally okay simply delivers its message with quiet confidence.

Once we hear it, we know it speaks the truth. Generally, once we have heard what it has to say, a powerful sense of calm settles over our entire being, and the other voices and sounds, once so dominant, fade into the background, suddenly seeming small and far away.
We may find that our own communications in the world begin to be influenced by the quiet certainty of this voice.

We may be less inclined to indulge in idle chatter as we become more interested in maintaining our connection to the whisper of truth that broadcasts its message like the sound of the wind shaking the leaves of a tree.

As we align ourselves more with this quiet confidence, we become an extension of the whisper, penetrating the noise of the world and creating more peace, trust, and confidence.

The Brass Key~House of Secrets

             Under_Drainpipe_BeautyWM

This photo was taken by me at my mama’s in 1995.

What instigated this blog was I found the person that was such a major influence on me.

I only saw what I wanted to see. His beauty and kind heart.

The Bitter and the Sweet.

“Never fear or explain your past. No need for apologies nor excuses.

It is the very thing that has made you the person you are today”

by Phoenixpalms


He sheltered from the Rain under the drainpipe~Persian Proverb
Addictions are a way to protect ourselves from the feelings dammed up inside us.
And indeed they temporarily dampen emotion and reality.
So we crouch under the drain pipe of addiction,
alone in a puddle of despair,ignoring the fact that WE are drowning.
Recovery begins when we crawl out,lift our face and arms to the sky,and sputter our finest prayer:
“Universal powers that be…Help me,I’m all WET ”
Addictions keep me from feeling and from healing.

I want to be healthy and happy.

With the help of a Higher Power I will find serenity.
This excerpt was taken from a gift my younger sister gave me.

A small book called “Gentle Reminders”by Mitzi Chandler for co-dependents

It was the summer of 91 and the air was humid and muggy. The nights were cool and we did not sleep at night. We did not sleep very much that summer. We parked the  car in the high over grown weeds and sun bleached grass. Hiding from other’s view, so we could sleep just a little. It was still dark when we pulled down the long dirt road.  The countryside was quiet. The loud silence in my mind was a welcomed one from the endless everyday noise. Everyday the same bittersweet moments turning minutes into hours. Days and nights blended as a spider makes his web.

movgoldspiderweb
I  longed at times to be as a fly and be captured. Apprehended, caught, stopped somehow from the tedious hustle and torment of my soul. This became our spot of choice as the police were always asking us to move on when we parked at the river. That had been our address for some time, but now it was not feasible to remain.
Our activities were spent chasing an elusive ghost. One that took us where we thought we wanted to be.

One that never ceased rattling our mind and enticing us to keep on chasing. We awoke that morning. It had rained and it was still a bit cool, the sun had not made its display and we enjoyed the coolness. Looking around we noticed how isolated our surroundings were. Old sheds and a worn house with a connected car port. There were cars in the bay area of the garage and many tools and things persons use that live by the farm and it’s ways.

We slept some more.

The next morning we went back earlier. We noticed the front storm door barely hanging off its hinges. We wondered if anyone even lived there. A light glowed from inside, a faint flicker. We knocked. The door fell off its hinges. We carefully removed it. It was a money item and money was what we needed to chase down the ghost. That knowing needed to be satisfied that lurked inside us. The storm door was an easy and quick sale. Later we went back and entered the home. It was eerie and strange to be there. It was as if the persons that once lived there had abandoned it a long time before. Everything was dusty and in disarray.

My eyes focused on the treasures left. Others had come before us and had ransacked the place, throwing everything into a heap on the floor. The furniture and crystal glasses, pottery urns  were worth a lot of money. We decided to somehow, someway remove the contents that were left and sell them. We did this for over 4 months, each day a new and lucrative find. It fed our habit, and the insidious ghost keeper was getting its fill and more.

The ghost chasers were happy in a warped sense of thinking and reality for us  was this day, this moment.
The “WHATEVER” word comes to mind.

The kitchen pantry was filled with canned goods. The basement was full of vacuum sealed glass jars filled with home preserved goods. A summer garden bounty lined the many shelves along with the dust and cobwebs. We didn’t know how long ago they had been preserved and were careful about spoilage. As we cleaned the dust and cobwebs off of the jars I thought of all the work and loving care that went into each Mason jar.

For a moment I remembered my own mama making her homemade ketchup, sweet corn, applesauce, peaches. I remembered how my sisters and I tried to help. The bounty from our summer garden, a feast to be thankful for on a freezing winter day in front of  a warm blazing fireplace.

It was not cold, it was the heat of seven suns, the hot suffocating Michigan heat in the air-filled our senses.
The bounty was our manna this day.

I often wonder what happened to those people. Were they old and unable to care for themselves? Did they become senile and there children put them in homes? Why didn’t the children have a caretaker watching over there prized possessions?  Did they not care, or maybe didn’t have the time?

These things did not concern me. To us it was like a job. We went like clockwork everyday to rest and then we would go inside and find something we felt would bring us funds for the days activities.

My mind does not allow regrets because I know it was a part of my growth process however painful and degrading it was.

“We are as a mist, appearing for a little time and suddenly disappearing.”

Reference: James 4:14

Fiery_Phoenix_Pixlr

Becoming The Phoenix

Opens in my other blog Cryominute

I have been shown how to love everything about myself.  Not to be ashamed of who or what I once was, or what I once did.

By trying to escape that past vibration, that past negativity, that past failing or darkness of self and soul, I was doing the universe an injustice.
It is something that addiction does to a person and this addiction it cry’s out for relief. This relief comes in many forms and fashions. A day job is almost impossible to maintain when you are in the tight grip of addiction. It knows nothing but to fill that empty spot, and when it cries relentlessly you start all over. The song that addiction cries is not a pretty one. It controls you in ways and takes you places you never thought you could or would ever go.

Dark paths and alleyways.

Few see the light at the end of the tunnel.

The light they see may just be their final utopia as they pass into the great hereafter.

I am fortunate that I saw the darkness enough and experienced the abyss of loss, heartache and despair too many times. That helped me to focus on the true light that was just ahead.

It has been a long and weary road at times but I persevered.

I realize now it was my own inner strength, my light holding me gently and not letting me go.

I have a unique reminder of that troubled time in my life.

It is a solid brass key.
For me a KEY that has made all the difference.

The_BrassKey

Inspiration from Kate Maree O’Brien

Give Rise To Who You Truly Are

I love her accent and I love Bali. The scenery in her videos are beautiful. Waterfalls, lush green foliage.

But, her wisdom is what grabs you. Her sincerity and Love for what she inspires.

Her words

Those lessons that are reoccurring showing up in your life.. are there with a lesson for you. When you run from them, you run from the lesson…

You Smother the Whispers of your Soul

You Drown yourself with

Sex

Gossip

Drama

Shopping

Food

Toxic Relationships

Any distraction you can come up with that will distract you from that DEEP KNOWING within.

People say they want change
They say they want something new…
But often what they want MORE is the alluring safety of the known and the familiar.
Real expansion and growth requires letting go of what you know
letting go of who you knew yourself to be.
But because this can feel so scary many people get stopped and go back to where it feels safe.
I challenge us all to re-think what feels comfortable and safe.
It might feel more comfortable in the moment, to not grow.
But I ask yourself this…
How comfortable will it be, if you’re still ‘there’ in a few years time And things haven’t changed??

Key West Boat Kids

Wisteria Island, also known as Christmas Tree Island, is a federally owned, uninhabited island in the lower Florida Keys 645 yards (590 m) northwest of the northwestern corner of the main island and city of Key West, Florida, Monroe County, United States. It is located 280 yards (260 m) north-northeast of Sunset Key (Tank Island), its closest neighbor.

Wisteria Island has an area of 0.04 mi² (0.1 km²) (exactly 106346 m²). The nickname Christmas Tree Island comes from the large number of Australian pine (casuarina) trees that grow there. Large numbers of live aboard boats are moored near the island.

In 2005 Key West was inundated with not one but four Hurricanes.

Hurricane Wilma was the one that had the Gulf meeting the Atlantic. The flooding and destruction were something some have never recovered from.

 

“The Worshiped Island. Key West” by Alexis Girard d’Albissin. He is in his 20’s now.

A Review

Clementine went to a School of Fine Arts in India, another wants to be a photographer and boat captain.

Her Art

Source of information

The Blue Paper