System Busters

System Busters

Why is it that we spend so much of our time in the pursuit of things that are temporary? I have been looking at my life and the lives of others around me to get answers. 

I spent half of my life following a flawed system of following someone else’s dream. 

  As a child my parents sent me to school each day. I would spend 6 to 8 hours learning how to compete in their world. I was tested and graded and compared to others who were following the same guidance. I went through this schooling process, pursuing the ambitions and learning rules set up by other people. I didn’t know any better, it was the only option offered to me.

Who chooses these required courses? The board of education? Our parents? The government? Corporate business? Churches? Why are there so many required courses and so few elective choices? Who decides what is important? Have these schools been successful at preparing children for life’s challenges? I was unable to satisfy my own questions.

Why then, do we place so much importance on what other people think? Why do we need the approval of our family, friends or society to determine our own happiness?

I am a systems buster. It is a term that I adopted a few years ago that describes me and my life. I am naturally contrary. If you ask me to do something, I will look at the reasons you want me to do it, then decide if I am going to do it. If I can find a better way to accomplish the task, I will do it my way. 

I spent 12 years in school learning someone else’s rules. I have spent most of the last 40 years discovering that those rules are flawed and broken. 

My real education began when I started thinking for myself. I found that my early education was lacking in the most important areas. Who am I? Why am I here? How do I find the answers to life’s questions? What is my life’s purpose?

Native Americans have a different way of looking at life. The elders of the tribe are the teachers. They are the Wisdom teachers who have the knowledge, skills, and understanding, to pass on these abilities to the next generation. They answer questions and teach life skills to children knowing that it will have far reaching effects on the future generations to come. When a young boy or girl approaches adolescence they are encouraged to prepare for a vision quest. This is an important part of discovering what they will do in life. A period of fasting and prayer, combined with sweats is used to connect that child with the spirit world. It is during this rite of passage that a child discovers the path that they will follow for the rest of their life. Natural skills and abilities are encouraged and developed. Education consists of helping each child follow their own path. 

If you ask me when I was a child, what I wanted out of life, my answer would have been, “I want what my parents and teachers want for me.”

If you ask me now what I want out of life, my answer would be, “I want to follow my own heart.”

  I am a danger to these old systems when I speak my heart.

The old ways are crumbling. The pursuit of money, power, and control, are the old, broken, and flawed ways. I have friends and associates who have worked their entire career to build a nest egg for the future, while predators in these old systems are robbing eggs out of their nest. Why are we so consumed in the fear of not having enough? It is time to enjoy the labors of our hard work. Stop looking for answers outside of yourself.

I am not alone in my beliefs. There are many systems busters. Each day I read from the web, the wisdom of these teachers and elders.  I am encouraged by the numbers of people who are discovering their real purpose in life and are using those skills in helping themselves and others. The old ways are rapidly disintegrating. The false systems of education have failed to teach the important life skills that we need. People are not only protesting the abuse of wall street, but are protesting the old and broken ways of education, religion, society, and government. They are angry at all the lies they have been told. 

The wisdom of these fools have failed us and it is time for change. 

I can feel the changes. Many others can also feel these changes. We are rapidly moving towards a new and better life. It is like watching the last gasping efforts of a cold winter fade before the springs promise of a bright and warm sun. Spring is in the air and it is filled with the promise of new life and abundance. Our individual dreams and desires can be fulfilled. Humanity is hungering. Children are now being born with gifts, skills, and abilities that need to be nurtured and encouraged. Intuition and wisdom must be used to help these children. 

It is not too late for us. We can discover and develop our natural abilities and skills. They are still here within us. 

We must take the time to vision quest.  Prayer, fasting, solitude and going within ... these are the courses of study that will guide us in following our true natures.

There is a whole new world to discover around us, a world of our own making. We are capable of doing anything that we set our hearts upon. It is this intuitive part of ourselves that will take us into new heights of humanity. In this pursuit, we will find the lasting happiness that will guide us into our new world with values and guidelines, and happiness, that will benefit all.

Sacred Places

Today I mowed the lawn. It was sunny and almost 60 degrees and I wanted to mulch the leaves one more time. I must have looked funny out on my John Deere with shorts and sunglasses, but it felt good to be in the sun. 

10 years ago I was living in Kansas. We lived on a 400 acre farm that was mostly in natural grass. The government was paying my landlord 100 dollars an acre not to plant corn or other crops. The land was under government contract for 10 years to allow the native grasses to grow.

I was driving another lawnmower back then. It was an old riding mower that I fixed up to mow our 2 acres of grass. I enjoyed riding that mower each week and had a system for mowing. We had a large tree that held our bench swing. When I got close to the tree, I would push the swing out of the way and then hurry around the tree before the swing came back and hit me. One month during my busy time, I had a project that made it hard for me to mow the lawn. Pearlene wanted to help me out so she mowed for me. She had watched me mow around the tree and thought she could do the same thing. She gave the swing a push and hurried around, but when she came around again, the swing hit the mower and caught the back fender, it raised up the mower and bucked her off. She wasn’t hurt, but there was a problem with that old mower, the safety switch on the seat wasn’t working. Pearlene watched as that mower took off down the grassy hill mowing a path with no one driving. She was able to catch the mower before going into the ditch, but I decided after that, we needed to buy a new mower to be safe.

Summer in Kansas was beautiful. The days were warm and the wildlife was everywhere. We had hills and streams and fishing ponds and chiggers. Chiggers are one the things that we didn’t like. They are tiny 6 legged microscopic insects that bite and wait on tall grass to attach themselves to any thing that has blood to feed on. They usually go to the warm moist places on your body to dig in and can cause a lot of discomfort where the sun doesn’t shine.

We loved to walk the land but with the chiggers waiting for a meal, it was not very pleasant. I got the great idea to mow a path around the land, so I scouted out a path and took my riding mower out for a trek in the native grass. It ended up being a 2 mile path and each week I would mow the path with my regular mowing. It took me most of a day. I didn’t care because I found the mowing enjoyable and relaxing. 

One week as I was mowing I noticed a circular patch of grass that was different. I got off the mower and investigated. It was nearly 100 feet across, on the top of the highest hill. While standing in the middle of the circle had another idea. I went back to the house and got a roll of string and a stake. I went back to the patch of grass and laid out a circle, within a circle, within a circle. It took me about an hour. I used the mower and mowed the wheel in the grass. When I was finished mowing I was amazed at the sight.

I brought Pearlene out and showed her what I had done. We had studied Native American Medicine Wheels and felt this would be a good place to construct one. We knew that there were other items we needed and looked around the area until we found them. We located a black, yellow, red, and white rock to mark the 4 directions. I found a pole to place in the middle then took 4 smaller poles and attached colored material to match the colors of the rock at the 4 directions. There were other items that we placed to represent elements of fire, water, earth, and air. The medicine wheel also represents the 4 stages of life. Childhood, adolescence, adulthood, and elders. We spent many sunsets there on our medicine wheel. 

Our friend John, asked if he and his wife could use the medicine wheel to pray. We said yes. When He got back to the house he told us what happened to him there on the hill. He said that as they were meditating, some figures materialized, they looked Native American to him. They didn’t seem to care that John was there and looked like they were involved in some kind of ceremony. John said he didn’t feel frightened or concerned for his safety and then watched them disappear from the hill.

I have thought about that place many times over the years and I have wondered about those that lived before me on that land. 

Did I rediscover an ancient location of a medicine wheel? Did these visitors simply recognize a sacred place to do ceremony? I was humbled that they would visit this hill. 

I found many other sacred sites in that area. I traveled with others who were searching for the sacred and we were led to places like Vesta, Nebraska and Adam-On-Diahman, Missouri. The mounds of Cahokia, Illinois was another special place we visited on several occasions. The caves of Missouri held a special place of reverence. Hundreds of years ago the Pawnee Indians used the stars to lay out their villages, they recorded these star charts on an elk hide. We found one of these old village sites, it was marked by a giant silver maple tree. It took 5 people holding hands to go around it. An eagle also used that tree for its nest. It was a very special place where we discovered some answers and truths about ourselves.

There are many sacred sites around the world that are used by people, past and present. When you are near them, you can feel the special feelings. Some of these sacred places are on hills, or near springs, sometimes they are in a valley. Trees can mark these places. 

I pay attention to the feelings that I have when I am in a new place or traveling old places. I am always grateful to be in these sacred places. 

There are times when I need to find answers to my questions. Sometimes I go to the mountain tops to contemplate in the quiet of nature. It is in these places that I am able to connect.

I used to go to the temples and chapels of man to find God. I found him there, but there was often a price to pay for using those places of worship.

One day I was praying in the woods. I looked around me, making sure I was alone. I often pray out-loud and on this day I was sitting. I had my eyes closed and was pouring out my heart and soul. I heard a noise and opened my eyes.  5 feet in front of me was a skunk who was sitting too. He was watching me. I lost the moment and jumped up and ran back some distance. I laughed at myself and wondered if the skunk was laughing too. 

I have found many sacred places in my life. Some were man made, some were natural places and some were the creations of my own hands. 

Going within my own heart and mind has been the most sacred of all. It has been in this sacred space where I have felt the most peace. In this inner place of peace I have been able to face the challenges and find the courage to blaze new trails in my walk through life.

Thank God for stories

I have been grateful for the stories that I have been able to hear and read in my life. They have been the beginning of my own stories. 

Story tellers have been the means of passing on the lessons and wisdom down through all civilizations. My father was a story teller. He was a history teacher at Pleasant Grove Jr. High. He taught English and History there for many years. When we traveled together in the car, he would tell us stories of the pioneers of Utah or the settlers of America. I could listen for hours as he created the images and characters in my minds eye. They came to life as he described their hardships and triumphs. It helped to pass the time when there were 7 or 8 squished into our car. I think he would be proud of me now. I have attempted to carry on his story telling, I hope one day to be able to capture his abilities.

I have several boxes of genealogy that I brought back to Escalante, I got them from my mother. I have looked briefly through them to see what those boxes contained. I have pages and pages of names and dates. The names and dates are from my ancestors, many from this area and some who lived in this house. I have been disappointed because there are very few stories about those ancestors. I can look at a birth date and a death date and wonder what came between those 60 or 80 years. I know they must have lived lives that were worthy of some notes. I am sure there may have even been some stories worthy of a major motion picture. I looked at the old Black and White pictures I found in those boxes. I can only imagine the stories behind them, only some have names and others are left blank.

I was up in my attic last year, organizing, compacting, and labeling some of the old things that were left here over the past 131 years. While I was there with a flashlight and a vacuum I discovered a small bundle of wrapped cotton with a ribbon tied around it. I carefully untied the ribbon and unrolled the bundle. Inside I found another ribbon tied carefully around a long braid of reddish hair. My mind immediately began to wonder at who it belonged to, why it was here behind the old pictures of my ancestors and why it was carefully tucked away in this little niche. I wish it had come with a note or a letter to explain more...

I have enjoyed the short quotes and statements that are posted here on face book. Most are from someone else’s posting. They are clever and thought provoking and humorous. Some of the humor I have been embarrassed to pass on, but I still laugh out loud at our world and the things we do.

The things I find most meaningful are the personal stories of triumph over tragedy. Those personal insights to lessons learned have helped to make my own journey lighter. I thank you all for daring to share your personal lives and inner thoughts and allowing me to hear the rest of your story. When I see you now, I see more than a name and a birthday. I hope to hear more of your successes and your failures. I would rather hear it from you now, before I have to read about you in an obituary. I would love to ask questions and hear about the experiences that gave you the wisdom that made you into the amazing beings that you are. 

In the beginning, before there were people, there were no stories. Only a hope of ...  “Once upon a time...”

Thank God for stories.

Glad Journal

I have been made aware this day of the many blessings that I have. I want to express my joy and love of life.

It wasn’t alway so. I have had moments where I was dragging my self along, just to get through each day. Wishing the day would be over so I could sleep and forget the unpleasant things in my life. 

I loved to sleep in when I was younger. I could easily sleep until noon. My parents would call down to wake me up and eventually I would drag out of bed and come upstairs to get something to eat. Half the day would be gone and it would take me hours to get going.

I grew out of that phase, and now I enjoy the beauty of a sunrise, the freshness of the new day. I still sleep in occasionally. Sometimes my body needs the extra rest.

I greet each new day with the anticipation of Christmas morning. As a kid I couldn’t wait for Christmas morning to arrive. We would gather and watch each person open their presents. In my family we took turns opening presents. In a family of 8 children, it takes awhile for everyone to get through all the presents. Christmas was all about the anticipation of the moment. Ripping that paper and discovering a new toy or outfit. Once everyone had opened all the presents and the paper had been picked up, we would open each package and spend the rest of the day in Christmas heaven. We didn’t care that we were still in our pajama’s. Breakfast lasted most of the day. 

As I got older I helped on Christmas Eve to get things ready for my younger brothers. I enjoyed assembling the new toys, talking with my parents, and feeling the spirit of Christmas.

There was a time in my life when I didn’t celebrate Christmas. I was not happy with life. I did not anticipate the new day, I slept in, missing the beauty of the sunrise, and the freshness of new possibilities.

I blamed others for my state of mind and unhappiness. The job. The government. The barking dogs. The garbage on the road. If only “They” would change, then I would be happy. It took years for me to see, “They” could never make me happy. Only I could make that change and conscious choice to be happy.

I have watched Pollyanna many times over the years. Each time I enjoy her enthusiasm and innocence. Her way of showing others a new way of looking at life and the possibilities. I have taken that lesson and used it to change my life.

I keep a glad journal. When I have a good day hiking, learn a new truth, or discover a new happy song, I record it in my book. I listen to happy and uplifting music. I rarely listen to anything that is depressing or degrading. I am not interested in betrayed love, dead hound dogs, or how to kill a lover. My music library is now nearing 3,800 songs. I listen to music from many cultures and era’s. There are many inspired composers and talented vocalists to help enhance each day.

In my old life, I kept another kind of journal. It was a record of all my hurts and wounds caused by betrayals and hurtful people. I carefully relived each event and made sure to share these unhappy experiences with anyone who would listen. I found comfort in others who shared my unhappiness. I helped to stir the pot of life’s unhappy ingredients with other unhappy chiefs. At the end of the cook-off we were all losers.

Feelings are one of the ways that I now measure my experiences. Do I feel depressed? Am I angry? Am I sickened? ... OR ... Does this bring me fulfillment? Do I feel happy? Do I feel uplifted? 

My life has been filled with happy and unhappy lessons and experiences that have shaped and refined me. My book of life is not that different from anyone else’s. We tell our stories. The choice of which stories we choose ... that is up to us.

The Wild Pigs of Kona

I was eating an avocado today enjoying the rich creamy texture of the Haas variety. I usually use some fresh lemon with a dash of salt for seasoning. Today I didn’t have a lemon so I ate the fruit right out of the skin. It tasted to good to me on this day. Sitting in the sun on my back porch brought back memories of my porch in Kona, Hawaii. 

We lived on Hiona Street in Holualoa. Our home sat nestled amongst giant Monkey Pod trees at the 1200 foot elevation on the Hualalai volcano. An active volcano on the West side of the Big Island. I was caretaker of a beautiful custom built home with a full wrap around porch. 

I had agreed to be caretaker for 6 months with an option to extend indefinitely. Overlooking the ocean view side of our home were two large avocado trees. They were loaded with large meaty avocados. The trees were 50 to 60 feet tall with most of the avocados out of reach. Each night there would be 20 or 30 avocados fall to the ground. I would pick them up and put the spoiled ones in the compost pile where the mongoose would come to pick over the days scraps. 

When we first arrived, we ate avocados for breakfast, lunch and dinner. It was heaven for an avocado lover like me. After 2 or 3 weeks I soon grew tired of Avocados. I took some to the weekly farmers market down near the post office, but didn’t care to sit all day for a few dollars. 

Hiona street was on a 18% grade. For those who don’t know what that means, it means really steep. You had to ride the brakes all the way down the hill to our home. When we went for a walk, it was a good cardiovascular workout. Both up the hill and down. Usually each day there would be avocados from other neighbors rolling down the hill. I could count on several each day. There are over 500 different varieties of avocados and they each have a unique flavor and texture.

I wasn’t the only one to notice the avocado’s. The pigs of Kona stayed mostly in the underbrush and out of sight. The Kona region has been in a severe draught for several years and the best place for worms and tender roots were in the yards and lawns on the homes. The pigs could come into a yard and overnight destroy the entire lawn and landscape. We could always tell where the pigs had been when we drove around the island. They loved avocados and could smell them when they were ripe. 

When they showed up at our home, I was concerned and called the gardener to get his advice. The gardener came once a week and took care of the coffee trees and the other plants and flowers. My job as caretaker was to write the checks and feed the cat. It was a great job. When the pigs started to dig up the yard I went to the post office to ask for a reference. They gave me the number of a local trapper who came and set his large trap. It was the size of a dog kennel, the chain link style kind. Over the next few weeks we caught 5 pigs. One night as we were sitting in the patio area we saw a mother with tiny piglets run down the sidewalk to pick over the avocados that had dropped, they were so cute. 

We decided to go for a hike up on top of Hualalai. Up where the cloud forest was. It was beautiful there. You could see Maui in the distance and  the ocean far below. We wanted to see the Hawaiian honey creepers. The one’s with the curved beak.  We began our hike with the sun shinning and the clear sky above. We packed a lunch and planned to spend the day there. We followed a trail that wound through the trees and the grassy meadows. We discovered plants and flowers that we had not seen down below. The lilikoi vines were growing up through some of trees. The fruits were hanging down so I picked and ate several as we hiked. The day was going well until we came over a hill and spotted a large wild bore that was using the same trail. He stopped and we stopped and for a moment neither knew what to do. He turned and ran, and we turned and ran. Each in opposite directions. The clouds lowered and in our haste to get away, I lost my bearings and started down the wrong way. Pearlene said she thought we should go the other way. We discussed the choices, my ego didn’t want to give in to her, but a small voice told me to listen to her spiritual radar. We soon found our way back to the trail again. My original direction would have taken us to the wrong part of the forest and we would have remained lost there for some time before the clouds lifted or we hiked all the way to the bottom of the mountain to find the road. The pigs of Kona can be aggressive and the male have tusks that can cut and tear if they choose to attack. I was glad for Pearlene’s spiritual radar and the help in finding our way back to the trail.  

It was not the first time we felt that internal radar on the island. There were other times that I heard noises in the night and started to go outside, the gentle whisperings of that spiritual radar said to me, “Don’t go out. There is danger.” Upon checking the next morning, I would find that the pigs had been there. I was grateful for that warning and protection. Sometimes I think of the hundreds of avocados that were on those trees, especially when the price here is 2 or 3 dollars. Someday I will go back and visit my home there on Hawaii. Whenever I travel, I alway’s make sure my spiritual radar is working and activated. The pigs of Kona are not the only dangers in life.

Chainsaws

I went to the post office today with my chainsaw. Ryan asked if I would cut off the dead branches on the old Willow tree in Front. It had long ago served its purpose and now it had become an eyesore. I reflected on other majestic willow trees I had seen with their long swaying branches gracefully arching to the ground near a small stream or grassy meadow. Magnificent sentinels shading a pleasant summer picnic or young lovers. All of us who live here have noticed the old tree. The few branches that were left were bare sticks now. I filled the chainsaw with gas and oil and started it up. It is a man thing. Noise and power. I revved it up and let the carburetor clear the excess oil from starting. I was in my glory, me and my Stihl chain saw. I backed my truck closer so that I could stand on the tail gate and reach a little higher. As each of the branches fell, I had a new appreciation for the beauty of that old dead tree. I finished with the chainsaw and had a revelation. I started peeling off the dead bark. I was able to remove almost all the bark. When I finished, I stood back and looked again at that old eyesore. It was now beautiful to me. The rich grain of the wood. The variations in color. It reminded me of a majestic grandfather. Several people commented to me about the change. Two asked if I was going to cut it down. Another said the firewood wouldn’t be very good.

As I thought about the various comments from the postal patrons, I remembered some other dead trees that I had seen in Albuquerque.

Every year around the 4th of July, the firework stands start showing up. This year was a particularly dry year for Albuquerque, New Mexico. I was living close by the Bosque. That is name of the river corridor that passes through Bernalillo, Corrales, and Albuquerque. The cotton from the cottonwood trees was thick on the ground. Walking along the nature trail was one of our favorite activities when we lived there. I kept a yearly zoo pass for several years after I moved. We would visit several times a year when I returned to do work. The Albuquerque Zoo backed backed up to the bosque and we would ride our bikes through the trees along the river trail and enjoy the beauty on our way to the Zoo. The river trail area was an oasis of nature in the middle of the city.

That year some young boys had decided to light the cotton fluff and watch it burn. Before they could stop the spread of the fire, it had gotten out of their control. The fire burned many acres of precious native wood land and left the trees burned, scorched and dying. It was so sad to drive over Montano bridge each day and see the dead trees. It was heart breaking. It took many months before a plan was agreed upon to repair the river corridor and the nature trails. Volunteers showed up to plant new cottonwood trees and hundreds were planted to replace some of the destroyed trees. Many of those old trees were approaching a hundred years old or more. The crews came in and began to cut and haul away the dead trees. Some were left for the birds and animals to use as homes. 

There was a small cluster of trees right next to the road that were left. It was next to a parking area for the nature trail. I watched for weeks and wondered why these trees had been left standing. One day as I drove by I noticed some activity. There was a lone man with a chain saw. He was cutting a tree. I could only glance for a moment because the traffic was moving and I had to move. The next day, there he was again, working on the same tree. I watched over the next weeks and months and years as this man worked on those trees. I have since visited that site many times to see the beauty of those dead, scorched and burned trees. This lone man with a chain saw had a vision of those trees. He saw them as undiscovered works of art and helped to release them from their confinement of charred and blackened tombs.

That old willow tree in front of the post office is now a symbol to me of the hidden beauty that lies within each of us. The years of growth often leave scars and disease upon our bodies and our spirits. But when the right Craftsman comes along in our life, he is able to transform our dying, eyesore, neglected tree into a magnificent sculpture. Revealing the hidden and neglected treasures within. 

Thank you Ryan, for allowing me to be reminded of such a valuable lesson in life.  Not to judge the outer scars of life, but to see the inner beauty of each masterpiece of the Master Craftsman.

Black and White

I watched a program last night called John Doe. It is based on the life of a man who has lost his memories and is desperately trying to find clues from anyone who might be able to help him. He has another disadvantage in not being able to see colors. He is color blind. The plot of the movie allows him to see occasional colors when he begins to get closer to people or places that connect him to his past. The series is almost 10 year old and I found it on Hulu. I am on episode 7 now and find that I am drawn in by its main character, John.

John and I are much the same. I have learned many lessons in my life from the movies that I am drawn to watch. I missed this series when it came out 10 years ago. The timing is just right for me to see the messages now. The amazing thing about the universe and the world is the way in which we learn. When the student is ready, the teacher will arrive. 

I used to see the world in black and white, back when I thought I knew everything.  I lived for 2 years in New England, supported by my family and friends. I began with a polarized view of life and the teachings of only one way of life. I found myself involved in some very heated discussions about who was right and who was wrong. I was right, of course, and they were wrong. My view of right and wrong, good and evil, was based on my childhood experiences and the teachings I had been taught. 

I was handicapped in my understanding of life and the richness that life had to offer. I was color blind. Like John, I was drawn to experiences and people that could help me understand more about my true self.

Those two years were perfect in every way for me. It was a softening of my soul where a blending of many teachings began. Those 2 years were the beginning of my discovery of who I am. 

While watching the program I could feel my awareness shift, just enough to get my attention. I paused the show and listened to the quiet. This shifting of my awareness is one of the clues that alerts me to a teaching experience. I waited, anticipating the Ah-Ha moment. It didn’t materialize until this morning and my waking experience. The time between dream time and awake time. It is where I can sometimes reach back through the veil and retrieve some of the nights teachings. Many of my most profound teachings have come to me in the dreams of the night. The emotions are more vivid in those dream experiences. The clarity of the thoughts are amazing. I find I have to be quick to record the information in my conscious mind before it fades. This morning I was able to grasp the teaching of the night and realize that I am John Doe. At least I was. 

I had another Epiphany two days ago. It happened while I was walking down the lane across the creek. I had the sudden realization that Pearlene had given me a great gift in her death. It hit me hard and I wept. For long moments I allowed the tears to flow, with only the cows and the horses to witness this emotion. The sweet feelings of her love and comfort and presence were there with me. She whispered to me, “I did this for you.” 

“I died so that you might live. I wanted you to see the colors of life in all its variety. To experience the richness of emotions. You and I lived a life that was perfect for us, one of sharing and connection and love. It is now time for you to stop seeing the world in Black and White. Share your feelings and share the intimate experiences that we have lived. Allow others to see the richness of the Colors of life through your eyes. Open your heart and pour out the lessons that were heaven sent. I will always be with you, to walk with you and watch over you. My gift to you is the gift of the heart.  Your open heart can learn and grow and share and teach. Live in the heart and share from the heart. All the colors of the rainbow will beautify your life and bring joy and fulfillment that could not have been experienced while I was with you.”

The experiences of life are always multi faceted. There are many reasons for her death, only some that I am now beginning to see. This was her gift to me. The gift of sight, through the heart. I will continue to walk through life living from the heart. The colors are so much more vivid and intense. My connection to all the colors of the rainbow are giving me the experience of a lifetime ...