tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-71002393608525146532024-03-14T04:17:09.754-04:00Summers PlaceDebbie Summershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16643991647455366613noreply@blogger.comBlogger27125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100239360852514653.post-55230228644163666662016-07-10T14:01:00.001-04:002016-07-10T15:37:11.416-04:00Thoughts On Turning 60<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Was on social media the other day and came across a page for people over 50. The question of the day was, “How do you feel about turning 60?”. Well, seeing as I will be celebrating my 60th birthday shortly, I took it as a hint that this was something I needed to think about.<br />
<br />
There have been days in recent times, more days than ever before in fact, when I have asked myself, “How the heck did I get here? Where did 60 years go?” One minute I was taking my kids to kindergarten and the next I am getting letters from Social Security telling me to start thinking about Medicare.<br />
<br />
Medicare? I still have 5 years before that! But you get the idea.<br />
<br />
<i>So how do I feel</i>? If you had asked me that 10 years ago, I might have said, “Ugh! Let's not talk about it.” I was devastated by my 50th birthday. I felt invisible and insignificant at that time. But, so many things have happened in the past 10 years: Some of the highest highs: Going to Scotland, taking up art-something I never imagined, learning photography, getting published, meeting celebrities. And then the lows: Friends and loved ones who didn't make it, a ruptured appendix that should have killed me, my daughter's cancer (she is now a survivor), the failing health of elderly parents, the list goes on and on. It is the kind of stuff that makes you want to hide under the covers and never come out.<br />
<br />
Yet, when I think about it all, it only makes me realize that no one gets by unscathed. Life can hard, full of trials and at times, downright cruel. But then there are the good times, the crests of the waves that you ride for as long as you can before they come crashing down. Life is constantly moving forward, one wave after the other, the tides going in and out, constantly changing, sometimes so quietly that you don't even realize you've evolved or moved on until you reflect back, sometimes so quickly you feel you will snap in two from the force of it. But inevitably you put one foot in front the other and move forward . Or you sit back and watch life pass you by. The bottom line is it's all about your ATTITUDE.<br />
<br />
So once more, how do I feel about turning 60? I am content. I am happy. AND, so very grateful because I am STILL here. I get to live. And each day that I do is filled with all kinds of possibility. I am stronger, wiser and secure in the knowledge that the people in my life, now, are there for the long haul. I no longer need the popularity of youth nor have the longings of middle age for status. I am free from the trappings of possessions that I once thought I absolutely had to have. In fact, I am on the journey of disentangling myself from things and acquiring and imparting spiritual wisdom and love. For in the long run, love is the only thing I will be taking with me ; the only thing which will remain in the hearts and minds of those who remember and love me. That will be my immortality.<br />
<br />
I am richer for all my experiences and more confident than I have ever been. I no longer feel the need to prove anything to anyone. I KNOW who I am <i>and</i> I happen to like who I am as well. And when I look in the mirror, though my looks tell the story of a woman growing older, diminishing, my eyes reflect the spirit of the warrior within and the power of a lifetime of knowledge. And THAT is something I wouldn't trade for anything!<br />
<br />
So bring it on! Because whatever comes next, reminds me I am STILL alive and that is a pretty damn good thing!
Debbie Summershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16643991647455366613noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100239360852514653.post-15238554926577725462012-12-20T20:00:00.001-05:002012-12-20T20:03:25.865-05:00THE WINTER OF MY DISCONTENT <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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pretty once again. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> That
explanation worked for a bit until I went to school and understood that the
fallen leaves never returned. However, Christmas always followed this event so
I never had to dwell very long on the dying foliage. And diving into piles of
raked leaves gave some merit to this event.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am now well into adulthood and over the
years, however, I have at times felt some degree of sadness as autumn comes to
a close. I’ve often asked myself just what it is that fills me with that sense
of melancholia. Is it the barrenness that creeps across nature like a grim
reaper? Or perhaps the oncoming chill and dropping temperatures? Or just the
connotation of Fall?...Fallen leaves, the falling back of the clock, the
diminishing sunlight. There is some irony to the fact that the shortest day of
the year heralds in the Winter season.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And
yet what happens when Autumn ends? Winter marches in, cold and forceful, like a
babbling brook rushing forward, sweeping along the debris left behind by the
previous summer and fall. Snow falls wiping clean the earth with a white
blanket of crystals, clearing the way for the return of the sun’s warmth -- The
cold killing off pestilence and disease, purifying the air to make ready for
the newly born growth of Spring. It seems as if even Winter is part of the
Grand Design. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
cycle goes round and round as does the passage of time, both moving in one
direction with no glance backward. The best any of us can do is collect what is
worth saving and discard the rest as we are swept along in the grand plan of
the Universe. Every season has its purpose, as does every event in your life,
even your darkest hours. Winter comes for each and every one of us. It is
inevitable. The only thing mutable is how we deal with it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Will
you rail at the unfairness of its cold and barren nature? Or will you embrace
it—knowing that it is a necessary part of your spiritual and emotional
evolution? Will you accept that for the tree to grow it must be pruned from
time to time, stripped down and laid bare to make way for new growth? It is
your choice to bend or to break, to blend or to rage, to rest, reflect and grow
or….die….</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And
that is truly the cycle of life…For time waits for no one. And as I age I
realize that neither can I. Each and every one of us is here for an express and
unique purpose. The secret of a happy life is to discover what it is then
follow your bliss, no holds barred, patiently learning all the lessons that
come your way and accepting that God/Spirit does have a plan for us if we can
only have the faith to keep moving forward. And know that Spring ALWAYS follows
Winter. </span></div>
Debbie Summershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16643991647455366613noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100239360852514653.post-74082806600273257342012-03-31T23:48:00.001-04:002012-03-31T23:48:11.392-04:00If Only I Could Win The Lottery<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-M_rbhDoKZWw/T3fPsLRo6SI/AAAAAAAAAJo/senw0QrBdKU/s1600/childhood-poverty.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="206" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-M_rbhDoKZWw/T3fPsLRo6SI/AAAAAAAAAJo/senw0QrBdKU/s320/childhood-poverty.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Well the die has been cast,
the numbers revealed and the 640 million dollars goes to three winners
from three different states. Congratulations to each and every one of them!...
End of story…Or is it?</div>
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If you are anything like me, winning that money has been a
topic of conversation for the past week. What would you do if you won the
lottery? What would you buy? Would you claim the money right away? Quit your
job? Pay off your debts? Buy an island and relocate ASAP? </div>
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Personally, I would like a studio for my art, a library room
and a closet the size of a bedroom, after I’ve paid off all my debts and those
of my family and a few close friends.</div>
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And then of course, there’s a yacht and the whole “travel
the world” thing…But seriously, after all the material desires have been
fulfilled, what would you do with ALL that money? </div>
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Well, that has been on my mind as well. Let’s face it, when
you die, you can’t take the money with you. Or, as I like to say, “Have you
ever seen a luggage rack on a hearse?”</div>
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I suppose I could leave it all to my children, though in my
perfect post-lottery world, my kids would already have a nice share of it.</div>
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So, I come back to the same question, once again, “What
would you do with ALL that money?” And
THAT is the question that has lingered in my mind. Those of you who have known
me for a bit, know that my first thought is of childhood suffering–children</div>
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in need—Imagine
feeding thousands of starving children all over the world, starting a
foundation to free them from the chains of poverty through education and a
better quality of life? Or how about a foundation for sick children, whose
parents can’t afford the medical care that they urgently need? Shelters for the
abused? For the homeless? A school to retrain the unemployed? Funding for the arts, the key to a truly
civilized society? </div>
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The possibilities are limitless with ALL that money. However…
I haven’t won the lottery. And this morning, those possibilities are still on
mind. Perhaps the more important question is, “How can you help those in need
regardless of your station in life?” And perhaps, “How can you make your life
better, happier regardless of the money you do or do not possess?” </div>
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I think if we dig deep enough, we would discover that we are
more powerful and capable than we give ourselves credit for. For the human
heart has a vast capacity for compassion, love and simple kindness. And the
soul, a limitless yearning for its higher purpose. So dare to dream, take that
step, reach out that hand. We build a house one brick at a time and a life, one
heart at a time. And that my friends, has no price tag on it. </div>Debbie Summershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16643991647455366613noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100239360852514653.post-70325038229429658512012-01-20T13:20:00.000-05:002012-01-20T13:20:28.893-05:00The Good Life Parable by Mark Albion<a href="http://www.lovely-life-plan.com/the-good-life-parable.html">The Good Life Parable by Mark Albion</a><br /><br /><br />I would invite everyone to read this story and give it some thought. The moral of the story is to know what you want out of life, because you may already have it.<br />Hope y'all go out and have a great day! Make it count!Debbie Summershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16643991647455366613noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100239360852514653.post-71791328065873999282011-12-29T20:05:00.002-05:002013-12-09T22:27:19.377-05:00A CHANGE OF HEART<div class="MsoNormal">
“You know the great thing, though, is that change can be so constant you don't even feel the difference until there is one. It can be so slow that you don't even notice that your life is better or worse, until it is. Or it can just blow you away; make you something different in an instant. It happened to me.” ~ George Monroe</div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Cataneo BT";">A CHANGE OF HEART</span></b></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hRycmYqfleM/Tv0OAhVjm4I/AAAAAAAAAI4/zsOIKkGy5_I/s1600/DSCN0326a.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hRycmYqfleM/Tv0OAhVjm4I/AAAAAAAAAI4/zsOIKkGy5_I/s320/DSCN0326a.JPG" width="256" /></a>Today as I stood back and looked at my yet to be decorated Christmas tree, I realized that something was different. But just what had changed I couldn’t pinpoint. So instead, I proceeded to pull out the umpteenth bins of ornaments that had been tucked away in storage and then did the usual inspection for missing hooks and broken balls.</div>
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Now I am not a “theme” person per se when it comes to decorating the tree but I suppose if you saw the need, you could categorize my tree as the “Trip Down Memory Lane.” For the past 20 years I have been giving my children ornaments on each Christmas that have represented something important going on in their lives at that particular time. I have also been collecting ones from wherever I have visited or vacationed.</div>
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So as I hung up each ornament, I was assailed with twenty some odd years of memories and ghosts of Christmases past. Voices of my children seemed to echo through the branches, voices of two toddlers then tweens then teens. </div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“Can I help Mama?”</i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“Uhoh, I dropped one!”</i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“Can we make cookies after this?”</i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“Awww! I remember this! I played baseball then!”</i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“This was the year I graduated high school!”</i></div>
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And then came the images of family vacations and girls’ weekends and all the rich and wonderful experiences of a good deal of my adulthood. The memories swirled around in my mind, like an 8mm movie…Oscars to follow…. </div>
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Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was different. When I was done I sat down and studied my handywork. Again I asked, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“Just what was it?”</i> Well for one, it was one week before Christmas and I honestly could not think of a single thing that I wanted. I seemed to neither have the glee nor the desire for anything. Or at least anything material. And that was a far cry from my younger years. </div>
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That made me think of a recent visit I’d had with my parents. </div>
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Now we all have apprehensions about “going home” and I am no different. Parents welcome you with cookies, pies and cakes forgetting that you are diabetic and 30 pounds overweight. They forget that you are at the half century mark and speak to you as if you’re still a half pint. They tell you stories of your childhood and confuse you with your brothers or sisters. Or they repeat the same story several times. And they can assume you still think exactly as they do.</div>
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There was a time when it drove me crazy and I dreaded the visits. I hated being treated like the proverbial child and not having my opinion heard and in the end I would always leave feeling frustrated and disappointed. But this year, I looked forward to seeing them. And I actually had a good time!<br />
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Suddenly I had an epiphany. </div>
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As I looked around I realized that nothing had changed except me. I was different. It had been a long time coming up until three years ago. And then came some of the worst times I’d ever experienced all at once. I believe now that I must have had some kind of drastic karmic course correction. And through those times I swore to never let the emotional pain I was suffering pervert me or my values and what I believed in. But as I reflected on the recent past I realized that I had indeed…changed….</div>
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Now was it a bad thing? I had to think about that…And all the disappointments of the past few years...But, in the end, I realized that I had developed an inner strength that I had never imagined possible and the wisdom to never allow anyone to ever again manipulate me or make me question my worth. I had also learned what was important to me and what was worth fighting for. And most importantly, I'd learned to be….ME!!!! Not a persona built on the expectations of others, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">or</i> a mirror of a friend, lover or family member. </div>
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That last thought was eye-opening. How many of us change who we are to accommodate others so we can be liked? Or hide how we feel to keep peace or out of fear of being criticized by people we deem important in our lives? </div>
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Change can be scary. We want things to be better yet we fear the unknown. We timidly take a step out of our comfort zone and then find ourselves a bit lost, a bit fragile. Then at the first sign of trouble or a complaint from friends or family that we are not “ourselves” we retreat into that cloud of illusion and expectation. </div>
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But I think there comes a point when you can no longer pretend to be what you are not—when nothing could be worse than remaining where you are. And that is the tipping point—the point at which you venture out of your zone and you begin to take baby steps toward something you hope will be better. It is not always an easy journey. There can be many fits and starts. And sometimes change can be forced upon you, even quite abruptly at times. </div>
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What I learned ultimately, though, is that change is inevitable. What is most important is how you handle and adapt to it…how you learn from it…how you grow! And when I think of the present and just how much how I’ve grown both spiritually and emotionally, I’m no longer afraid of what is to come. Because I am finally who I was meant to be. And that is the greatest gift of all. </div>
Debbie Summershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16643991647455366613noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100239360852514653.post-70130615915053526382011-10-05T09:46:00.000-04:002011-10-05T09:46:08.202-04:00Machine Gun Preacher - Movie Trailer (2011) HD<iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/eddnloOFjwY?fs=1" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" width="480"></iframe><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />This is the inspirational story of Sam Childers, a man who has rescued over a thousand orphans from starvation, disease and enslavement....Debbie Summershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16643991647455366613noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100239360852514653.post-46568071974065126382011-08-03T21:02:00.000-04:002012-02-25T12:06:52.324-05:00WHY WAS I BORN IN AUGUST?<div class="MsoNormal">
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It was hot…extremely hot…SWELTERING hot…And I was at a loss as to what to write for the August edition of Spirit Magazine. Having just come back from a wonderfully restful visit with a friend, I was not at all motivated to write anything. So as I sat here thinking about August, I began to think about my birthday, which is in the same month. Being of a certain age I really wasn’t moved to dwell upon the upcoming event but I found myself thinking back to childhood.</div>
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I had always resented being born in August. The heat of summer would build to a fever pitch, all my friends would drift away one by one to distant places on family vacations and inevitably I would sit at home counting the days to the start of the new school year. My birthday would come and go, more of a quiet “family gathering” and although my parents did their best to make it festive, I always felt a bit “cheated” and had on occasion asked myself just why I had to be born in the dullest month of the year.</div>
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Well, thinking about the “dog days” of August led to a glance of the vase full of sunflowers perched next to me and then a vision of the sun—which in turn led to the question of why I had chosen to buy sunflowers on that particular day. Now I’d had an obsession with sunflowers for quite some time and I knew the myth behind them—the water-nymph, Clytie, falling deeply in love with the sun god Apollo and he being a bit of a “lad” and not returning that love. So there was poor Clytie, rooted to that spot on the ground, staring up at the sun and languishing away, ever-searching for her love until the gods took pity on her and turned her into a sunflower so that she could always face the sun.—which really did not help with the question of why I had to be born in August and just what I should write about.</div>
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So, I decided to look up the history of the month. Now August is named for Caesar Augustus, one of the greatest Emperors of Rome—Augustus being a term of honor meaning “the revered or majestic one”. This Caesar was responsible for the Pax Romanus, a peace that lasted in the Mediterranean for more than two centuries. Now that was quite an accomplishment. But what I found interesting was that Caesar had chosen Apollo (of all gods) as his own god and credited his victory over Antony and Cleopatra, to Apollo’s superiority over the Egyptian gods.</div>
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My thoughts then drifted to Egypt as I also discovered that the birthstones of August are Peridot and Sardonyx and these gemstones are rich in history connected to that area of the world. Peridot it seems, has been regarded since ancient times as the symbol of the sun and has been mined from Zabargad, an island in the Red Sea off the coast of Egypt, for almost as long. </div>
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The Island of Zabargad was originally called the “Isle of Serpents” because it was so infested with poisonous snakes that it was dangerous to venture there at all. But Peridot was so acutely desired that one particular Pharoah had all the snakes driven from the Island so work could proceed. The stones were so brilliant though, that workers had to go out at night and mark the locations of the stones then return the next day to extract them. . In fact, Peridot was so radiant that the Ancients believed it could ward off darkness and evil spirits and this gave it an even greater value. Guards were placed at the perimeter of the island and all suspicious persons approaching were killed immediately. </div>
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Peridot eventually was brought to Europe via the Crusaders where it turned up in Cathedrals to be classified as the “evening emerald” as at night it was so richly deep green in color and retained its luminescence. It was also a prized gem in the Ottoman Empire with Turkish Sultans collecting the world’s largest collection. </div>
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As I was reading all of this, I suddenly remembered a recent event—A past life reading about myself—being told that two of the last three of my lives had been in Egypt and Africa as an archeologist. Now that gave me pause. Then I recalled a time during a meditation exercise when I had been asked to think of a flower and instead found myself at the base of an ancient temple. I saw it in great detail as if I’d actually been there. </div>
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Now perhaps I was actually getting somewhere. So I continued to read on about the other birthstone of August: Sardonyx. According to what I read sardonyx was placed into the breastplate of the High Priest Aaron, Moses’ brother.</div>
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It was also a very popular stone among the Ancients and Egyptians, who carved it into scarabs and beetles and also wore it as a talisman to ward off evil. Romans were known to wear sardonyx carved with images of Mars, the god of war, for bravery and courage in battle. </div>
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Perhaps the most interesting story, however, was that of Queen Elizabeth I, who possessed a gold and sardonyx ring. She eventually gave it to her lover, the Earl of Essex, as a token of friendship, with the promise that she would always be there for him if he ever needed her. At a later time, he was arrested for treason and sentenced to death. He attempted to send the ring to the Queen in the hope that she would intervene but it wound up instead in the hands of a Lady Nottingham, whose husband was no friend of the Earl’s. The Queen believing that the Earl did not want her mercy allowed him to be executed. It wasn’t till years later she learned of Lady Nottingham’s duplicity. It broke the Queen’s heart. </div>
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Again I was reminded of another past life, from the past life reading, a life around that very same time.—A dark time where I did everything I could to protect my brother, who was eventually murdered anyway and who I had sworn to never let go of again for all eternity. I took a few moments to process all that I had learned and suddenly it all made sense. </div>
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August did indeed seem to have a very big significance for me. Was it by design that I was born in the month where Leo and the sun rule? A month with a birthstone mined and worn by Egyptians since ancient times? A stone that was a symbol of the sun ? A stone given to a loved one whose death could have perhaps been prevented? Was I supposed to remember something from these prior lives? Or was it all just coincidence? </div>
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As I sit here, gazing at my sunflowers and pondering this, one thing is certain: This particular August I will have plenty of research to keep me busy. And I will never again consider the month of August boring nor dull. And as for the birthday parties that I’d longed for as a child? Well, being a Leo, I’m sure I’ll be able to come up with some sort of memorable birthday celebration to break the monotony of summer. Safari, anyone? <br />
<br /></div>Debbie Summershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16643991647455366613noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100239360852514653.post-45469539567710777332011-06-30T08:24:00.002-04:002011-06-30T18:57:16.086-04:00AN ACT OF FAITH<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-H-jh3f5cJI8/Tgxqi1zic3I/AAAAAAAAAGc/PQvahpAvFZU/s1600/DSCN0433Resized.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-H-jh3f5cJI8/Tgxqi1zic3I/AAAAAAAAAGc/PQvahpAvFZU/s320/DSCN0433Resized.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> “Faith is the bird that sings when the dawn is still dark.” ~Rabindranath Tagore</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I have been hearing a lot about faith over the past few weeks and I finally figured out that somewhere amid the quotes, slogans and book passages I have read recently, there is a lesson intermingled.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Not too long ago I had a test of faith that rocked me to my very core. My head was screaming, “No! Don’t do it! DON’T GO THAT WAY!” But my heart was pleading, “You know this is what you want. You must proceed. IT IS RIGHT!” Now when the heart and head battle it out, I usually wind up with one heckuva case of headache and heartburn.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">But because of all the spiritual growth I have experienced over the past few years, I decided to just let myself “be” for a bit--To listen and see with my “sixth” sense. During that period I actually took the time to look up the definition of faith: </span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">1) firm belief in something for which there is no proof</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">2) : complete trust</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">3) something that is believed especially with strong conviction; </span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Well, I certainly had firm belief. In fact I had two: that of my head and that of my heart. But then I looked at the origin of the word faith which is derived from the Latin “fides” and is the root for such words as confide, fealty, fidelity, and fiduciary. Soon it became all too clear that trust was a very big component of faith as was confidence.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">So I asked myself which I trusted more: my head OR my heart? But still, no solution presented itself. Then I saw this quote: “Faith is the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things not seen.” Hebrews 11:1. And I knew it was time to take a step back and pray/meditate for guidance.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I thought a lot about faith over the next few days. We are all too unaware of just how much it comes into play every single day. From the time we wake up each and every morning to the time we go to sleep each and every night, we live in complete faith for that day-- <i>Faith</i> that we will wake up, be able to get out of bed, go about our day, and once again be able to get up the next day and do it all over again. From the minute we open our eyes, we <i>hope</i> for the best and <i>trust</i> with some degree of <i>confidence</i> that the day will proceed as planned. If fear should enter the picture we calculate the odds of past success and quickly put aside any doubts.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">So I declared to the Universe that I was going to trust that an answer would present itself when the time was right. And I, too, cast aside any doubts I had. It wasn’t long after this that I had to take my daughter to a doctor’s appointment and not being one to sit idly in the waiting room reading some medical journal acquired from a nearby table, I grabbed a book from my bookcase. It was one of several that I had in a stack of “books to read, when I have the time.” I honestly did not even give much consideration to the title as I was in a hurry that day.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">As I sat in the waiting room and I began to read, it was as if a voice was speaking to me from the manual of “What You Need To Know In Order To Make A Decision”. The premise of the book was a mirror of the exact struggle I was going through. The characters asked the very same questions and the quotes were some of the very same used by important people in my life. I found myself laughing and crying at the same time. </span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">For the next two days, I read that book at every opportunity afforded me. When I was finished, I went back and reread the highlights once again. And when I was finally done, it was all too clear what my decision was going to be.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Suddenly I had a vision of the “Dark Night of the Soul” which is the ultimate test of faith. F. Scott Fitzgerald said, "In a real dark night of the soul it is always three o'clock in the morning." And yet, shortly after that time, the birds begin to chirp. If we can trust and believe that when we fall asleep each night, we will once again wake up the next morning then why can’t we believe that just as the dark night follows the brilliant day so does the brilliant day follow the dark night? </span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">So in the end my heart won out, as I realized that my head was simply warning me of all the things I didn’t want, my fears in essence, but my heart was revealing all the things I’d hoped for and evidence of wonderful things not seen. But more importantly, I now had the faith necessary to take that chance and the firm belief that no matter what happened, things would work out as they were supposed to. And somehow, I trusted that I’d made the right decision. And that was a lesson of the best kind. </span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
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</div>Debbie Summershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16643991647455366613noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100239360852514653.post-60818933769680301552011-06-04T16:53:00.000-04:002011-06-04T16:53:17.573-04:00Spirit MagazineThe June Edition of "Spirit Magazine".... <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://spiritmagazines.com/spirit-magazine.php">Spirit Magazine</a>Debbie Summershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16643991647455366613noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100239360852514653.post-27816675537688547042011-05-26T06:10:00.001-04:002011-05-26T06:15:19.689-04:00These Eyes...<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> </w:Compatibility> <w:BrowserLevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style>
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</style> <![endif]--> <div class="MsoNormal">Anyone who knows me knows that these days I have become a real shutterbug. It started this past Christmas when I received a new camera. Though at that time I didn’t know much about photography, somewhere along the line I decided to master the art. And of course, what better time to capture beauty than spring, when nature is at its absolute best?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The first time I saw a cardinal out in my back yard, my heart skipped a beat. And the fact that he was red and easy to spot as well as photograph, sent me into a photographic frenzy. That led to getting up and out at odd hours (well, at least, odd hours for me) and hiding in bushes and peeking through my kitchen window to get as many shots as I could </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was determined to capture with my camera as many animals as was possible and to make the animals get used to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">my</i> presence. When at last, I saw a rabbit in my yard, I ran out to say hello. And he in turn, quickly ran away. Needless to say, I wasn’t too happy. After many days of stepping out into my yard and listening to….silence…I realized that this was not going to be as easy as I had thought.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why were all the animals running away from me? I asked myself this at least once a day for the next week. I was a nice person--gentle and kind--and an animal lover to boot. Was it the camera they were afraid of? Or was it just me? </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The more determined I became, the more success eluded me. But fortunately, flowers began to bloom and my interest was diverted elsewhere. I never realized how many flowers and plants there were in my area-- many in my own back yard or on the properties surrounding mine. Before long I was entranced in the study of light and shadow and a sea of color. And I actually learned the difference between honeysuckle and gardenias! That was a very big thing for a city girl, like me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well, that was when I began to notice bugs and lizards and snakes. It really was a “jungle” out there. I now had to charge my camera every night and clear the memory card as often. I even found myself researching some of the critters I had seen, as I had no idea what they were called. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then came the day that changed everything. I was in my back yard sitting on the grass and photographing a leaf on the ground. But not just any leaf. This one was on its side, yellow and orange on the top and green on the bottom. Sunlight poured down upon it, illuminating the yellow side to the point of the appearance of it being on fire. It took my breath away. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was so engrossed in what I was doing, I didn’t realize that I was being watched. Then I heard a noise above to see that very same cardinal looking down at me. I simply froze while he hopped from branch to branch, his song ringing out to the four corners of the yard and beyond.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A short while later a squirrel appeared above me as well, along with a chipmunk, who walked along the fence right in front of me. I was in photography heaven. And so began a new journey. Each day I would venture out at certain times, which I had learned through observation, were the times the animals liked to feed. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then came the day when I was photographing clouds and I heard a birdsong, to find a baby robin on the lawn right in front of me. I crouched down to get a better look at him and he jumped up and tried to perch on my camera. His wobbly legs could not hold on and he fell off, fluttering down to the ground, a little bit dazed. Fortunately it wasn’t far to go. I gently reached out my hand to help him right himself and he gave me a little “peep”. I tried to walk away but he followed me. This went on for awhile until eventually he realized I was not going to feed him.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And then today, I simply went out to sit on my deck with a bowl of strawberries. While I sat there I cannot tell you how many birds perched on the railing to snack on the birdseed I had laid out for them. (One of my better plans) And they remained to finish eating while I sat there watching. And when they left, I found the rabbit lounging in the sun in the middle of my back yard. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Very carefully, I walked down the deck steps and found a quiet spot in the corner, then sat myself down. The bunny timidly approached, then plopped himself down about ten feet away. He then watched as I slowly finished eating my strawberries, occasionally scratching his ear or wriggling his nose but nevertheless rooted to his “spot”. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While I sat there I listened…listened to the cardinal, the thrasher, the finch and mockingbird all going about their business…listened to the wind rustling through the trees…listened to the crackling of dead leaves on the ground that told me a squirrel was nearby. And at that instant in time, I was completely attuned to the moment and one with my surroundings. And I felt complete serenity along with the joy of being alive. Eventually I got up and left my rabbit friend, shaking my head as I went back inside. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were many things I learned from this whole experience. I have always been a person who needed to fix things, fix relationships, make things fit. And as such, I felt the need to be in control. In this instance, I had set out to make the animals adapt to me. Instead, I wound up adapting to them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I became an observer, rather than a pursuer and in letting go of my ambitions, I got exactly what I had wanted all along. Sometimes, it is in the letting go that we find the answers we are looking for. And sometimes we just need to listen. For it is in the silence, that we learn what could not be seen or heard above the din of endless noise and chatter.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had never realized before just how intricate a world was in my own back yard. I was simply too busy making plans, molding my part of the world, making everything “fit”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is a lot to be said for simply “being” instead of always “doing”. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A friend and I recently discussed just that: The idea of “being” …And being in the present to simply savor each and every moment. Photography has taught me the joy of doing just that by opening my eyes to the world around me. Like studying the “I Spy” children’s books, I have now become aware of the hidden objects in my everyday life. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And now having been opened to that whole new world, I have evolved. I am in the present, yesterday gone, tomorrow a hope and a glimmer. I am letting go of all expectation and simply observing and growing each and every day. My eyes are opened to possibility in all its forms. And that leads me to believe that perhaps the veil between this world and the spirit one really is not so obscure. All one needs are eyes that are willing to “see”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1gtRE5BH20I/Td4n3QjiGMI/AAAAAAAAAF4/-9Zc_mk00iU/s1600/DSCN7019a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="240" width="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1gtRE5BH20I/Td4n3QjiGMI/AAAAAAAAAF4/-9Zc_mk00iU/s320/DSCN7019a.jpg" /></a></div>Debbie Summershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16643991647455366613noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100239360852514653.post-80354242779241850482011-04-27T15:40:00.001-04:002014-10-28T15:35:32.975-04:00ANGELS WATCHING OVER ME....Have you ever had the feeling that you are not alone. That something or someone is looking out for you? Or that there are forces beyond your understanding guiding you?<br />
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I’ve been an artist now for three years. Actually, I’ve been an artist my whole life and never really acknowledged it. It had always come easy to me and I‘d always been one to look for the challenge. If there was difficulty and struggle, I was there. But art?… Too easy for me. Then, about three years ago through the most difficult challenge of my life, I turned to art because it was easy. I’d had enough of “hard”…<br />
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As time went on, easy wasn’t good enough. I wanted to be better. And then I wanted to be the best I could be. Well, early on, people began to take note of my work and I began to get requests for more. For the first time ever, I began to see that my hobby might be lucrative. But I wasn’t sure just how to go about turning my sketches into a salary. Or if portraits were the only approach to bringing in a salary. But I was willing to learn as I went along. And I wasn’t above asking God for a little help. Which eventually led me to Kinko’s. I needed prints of my work to sell to potential buyers. <br />
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The first time I handed one of my drawings to the woman at the desk, her eyes lit up with delight. <br />
“Did you draw this?” She asked.<br />
I nodded, a bit timidly.<br />
“Wow!” She replied. “A lot of artists come through here. But this is fantastic! Especially since you didn’t trace any of it.”<br />
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Well, that had my attention. She then proceeded to tell me how the method of tracing worked and just what kind of money could be made. She also gave me ideas on what type of artwork would sell. And she asked for a few business cards. When I left that day I could definitely state that I’d had complete customer satisfaction.<br />
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The next time I returned to have a woman tell me that my talent was a true “gift from God” and that each and everyone of us is given talents that should never be wasted. She couldn’t have known that I had contemplated just how I could use my work to raise money for charity as a thank you to Him for that very gift. It was a confirmation that I was on the right track.<br />
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The time after that, I stood at a copy machine thinking about how I could market my artwork when another artist noticed the piece I was copying. He paid me a great compliment then proceeded to tell me about art and craft fairs and how lucrative they were. <br />
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And then came the day when I contemplated color portraits. I had been doing black and white ones to that point and had seriously considered going back to school for more training as I thought that people would prefer the ones in color . <br />
I stood in the middle of Kinko’s, reviewing my most recent portraits and trying to decide which prints looked better, when a man came over and asked, “ Is that your work?”<br />
“Yes.” I replied. “But I’m thinking of going back to school for more training.”<br />
“Training?” He laughed. “Don’t waste your time. You’re already better than you know.”<br />
I think I blushed at that. “But I’d really love to do color portraits.” I explained..<br />
“Well,” He responded. “You could certainly do that. But I can tell you that in the long run, most people love the black and white portraits. I’m an artist as well and I’ve been at it a long time. In fact, I have artists working for me. Trust me…Stay with the black and white.”<br />
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That particular day I walked out of there with chills running up and down my spine.<br />
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Now I was beginning to wonder just what it was about Kinko’s that made me feel like I was having a religious experience. And I realized that every time I’d entered that place , I’d gotten a sign from above as to just what to do next. <br />
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Then recently, I was having an issue with letting go of some people that did not belong in my life and someone suggested to me that I call upon Michael the Archangel to help cut the etheric cords that bound me to them. Now I’d heard of angel guides and guardian angels and such, but I’d never heard of “etheric cords”. And at the time this was suggested, I was extremely busy, so I put the suggestion to the back of my mind. Then a few days later, I happened to be in a book store. I had some time to kill and I’d decided to grab a few travel guides for a trip I was planning, then find a nice chair somewhere in the store to plop down in until I needed to get to the next thing on my agenda. <br />
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After gathering the travel books, I found a chair in the very back of the place. As I sat down, I realized that right across from me was the Metaphysical section of the bookstore. For some reason my eyes were drawn down to the lowest bookshelf. There on the very bottom was a book on… Michael the Archangel. My senses went to high alert. Why I’d chosen that particular chair I couldn’t really explain but obviously I was being given a message. Quickly I grabbed the book on Michael and discarded the others. As I read about Michael, I began to see just exactly what was meant by etheric cords. And how Michael could give me the “support, courage and confidence” I needed to move on. I decided to then look for other books on angels and I found one in particular that opened my eyes as to just how many times angels had been watching out for me.<br />
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And then I realized that I had been listening and watching for them as well, though I hadn’t consciously realized it…From hearing my name whispered upon awakening, to songs that I simply could not get out of my head and conversations overheard by strangers that seemed to have a message just for me. Then, there were the times that I’d turned on the radio or the television to a program with a message that seemed an answer to my prayers. And of course, my dreams, which on some occasions had been downright prophetic and at others quite informative and inspirational. <br />
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And there had been other signs as well… Times when a little voice in my head gave me a warning or suggested I do something that put me in the right place at the right time because I’d listened. Like the time my daughter stood too close to the brass enclosure of our fireplace and I told her to immediately step back. It was the moment after she did, that the doors of the enclosure exploded. Then there was the time when something told me to turn around and I ran right into a person who would become a very important part of my life’s journey. <br />
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Coincidence? I don’t think so…Not at the frequency at which I’ve had these experiences. In fact, just earlier today as I was pondering just what I wanted to say in this article, I took a time out and turned on the TV. What came on the screen? A program on the History Channel about…ANGELS…<br />
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Yes, angels are everywhere. And they want to help you. In the words of August Rush, “All you have to do is listen.” And I, for one, am truly listening…. <br />
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Debbie Summershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16643991647455366613noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100239360852514653.post-64165603431018562622011-04-05T11:58:00.006-04:002014-10-22T17:24:47.667-04:00The Descant Soul...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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A few years ago, I joined a forum called the Red Thread and I was curious as to just what exactly was meant by that term. I discovered the Chinese believe that with each child born, there exists an invisible red thread that connects their soul to all the people in their lives, present and future, who will play a role in their life. As they get older the thread shortens and draws them closer to these very special people....What a lovely concept... <br />
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I recently wrote a piece on how technology has taken over our lives often at the expense of our humanity. Meaningful experiences and conversation are lost in a quagmire of keywords and phrases bandied about like slogans and sound bites then dropped off the cliff of enlightenment before anything of any substance can be discussed or pursued. <br />
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.And so it is with relationships…hooking up, booty calls, friends with benefits have replaced the tradition of courtship and dating, and the social intercourse that allows two people the chance to build a bridge between their souls. And words like <i>soulmate</i> and <i>karma</i> are tossed out to justify even the slightest connection beyond a one night stand.<br />
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If you’ve ever truly had the good fortune to find someone that is a soulmate the experience is transcendent. And truly something that you will carry with you for the rest of your life. Again I thought of the red thread between two souls, two hearts, two minds that draws them closer via some karmic pathway, of which they have little, if any, knowledge until they are actually face to face.<br />
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<b></b>Now the question is, if you are fortunate enough to meet a soul mate are you willing to acknowledge it? How many of us muddle through life wondering if anyone out there really hears us? Desire for ultimate emotional fulfillment eventually gives way to the acceptance of mediocrity and acceptance to spiritual lassitude until we become devoid of any real depth and instead choose to anesthetize ourselves with technological and other trivial diversions. The higher call of destiny or karma is drowned out in the din of the “virtual” playgrounds of social networks, or drugs of choice and life’s innumerable checklists and obligations.<br />
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But I truly believe that destiny and karma cannot be denied. When something is meant to be it must be acknowledged or the lesson will be forced to be repeated just as history repeats itself. Something of that magnitude changes you forever and once you’ve found that sense of completion you are transformed for better or worse. There simply is no going back.<br />
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I have actually met two such people. Both have found their soul mates and ironically both have not been able to answer the call. And it has wrought misery upon both of their lives. They are in a karmic purgatory, held hostage by their fear of something so bright and beautiful they question its very validity. For how could such happiness and bliss possibly exist?<br />
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Which brings me to the question of science versus spirituality. Just because something cannot be scientifically proven, does not mean that it does not exist. Have we lost our ability to take a leap of faith? To trust in the unseen and our sixth sense? <br />
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Why do we fear true happiness almost more than we fear complete and utter misery? Is it perhaps, because we fear change and would rather live with predictability? Hence, the modern age quest for scientific explanation of every event and phenomenon known to mankind? But more importantly, as emotional beings, do we really desire this? For where truly is the joy of living if not to feel the surprise of your baby smiling up at you or the pleasure of hearing a lover whisper terms of endearment in your ear? The simple truth is: life is messy...a combination of science and faith and constant surprises. And sometimes simply inexplicable...<br />
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I would like to believe that maybe we have just simply allowed our inner sense of the universe to become dormant and that perhaps with a bit of a cosmic push,we can allow fate to take its course, submitting to chance and trusting that the universe does know what’s best for us.....Debbie Summershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16643991647455366613noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100239360852514653.post-50578423489627987112011-03-24T10:48:00.002-04:002011-03-30T16:32:45.971-04:00WHEN YOU BELIEVE...The other day, I woke up to the sound of rain pelting my windows, and shadows giving my room that mysterious aura of the semiconscious state--that thin veil between reality and dreams. My body however, was on high alert, every prior injury giving me a shout out in one grand role call. My shoulder, in particular, seemed anxious for some recognition.<br />
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I wasn’t at all surprised, as I had at one time torn it out of its socket and due to a misdiagnosis, had walked around with it locked in a strange position for months. I pondered this for a moment... The months of sitting around going from one doctor to another, bringing my test results with me and always the same response based on those results. That response? “The test results are negative. There is no permanent damage to the shoulder.”… Then finally, after three months and very much motivated by agony and a shriveling arm, my decision to go to a surgeon to be told an hour later I needed surgery immediately. <br />
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I had spent two hours in surgery and I’d needed six months of physical therapy to gain complete use of my arm and shoulder once again. And all because of repeating the same behavior and expecting a different conclusion. <br />
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There were so many lessons for me in that experience. First one? Go with your gut. If something doesn’t seem right, it probably isn’t. The second lesson? If you keep getting the same conclusion , perhaps you need a different approach or you need to ask different questions. Last lesson? If you wait around for someone to rescue you, you could wait a very long time. You must take care of and be responsible for yourself and your well being.<br />
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Those lessons got me thinking about the law of attraction. I had recently decided to really embrace this concept. Instead of always asking myself why something is happening to me or wishing for a different outcome, I had decided that it was time to manifest my desires. As I got out of bed, I realized that that day was going to be one of my first tests.<br />
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I turned on the radio to hear of torrential rain and flooding in the weather forecast. My first inclination was to envision poor visibility, snarled traffic and accidents everywhere. It was almost enough to make me cancel my plans for the day and crawl back under my covers. But I had waited so long for some of the very important appointments I had scheduled that day. And my gut told me another story. “Listen” It whispered. And I did. I listened to the radio while I got dressed and had breakfast. And then I listened some more as I cleaned up. There were no reports of accidents at all. So I put on my jacket, grabbed my car keys and headed out.<br />
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Prior to today, I would have plopped myself down into the car, my thoughts preoccupied with the difficulties of driving in the rain. I would have expected to creep along, tense and frustrated at my slow progress. And I would have envisioned long waits at my appointments. In essence, I would have created a very negative environment. <br />
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But on this day I decided to try that different approach. The sky was ominous but I visualized how I wanted the day to go…Timely Doctors’ appointments, no traffic delays, and to end the day, a stop at the Mall for the best haircut I’d have to date. Then I put in a CD I hadn’t listened to in a very long time. The music was uplifting with very positive messages. And last but not least, I repeated to myself, “I am going to have a great day!” <br />
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I took my time, sang along to the tunes and before long I was moving from one appointment to the next. And though some took longer than others, I took advantage of the wait time by striking up conversations with others who were waiting as well. And I actually became enlightened on a few topics. Soon enough, I was done and on my way to the Mall. Sitting at my hairdresser’s station, I watched as she went to work with an ease I had never seen before. It was probably the fastest haircut I'd ever had. And when she was all finished I had to laugh. For it WAS truly the best haircut she had ever given me. <br />
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To make matters even better, on the way home the clouds dissipated and the sun appeared as if out of nowhere, like the sudden glimmer of a flashlight. If I’d never believed in manifesting before, I certainly was a believer now.<br />
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So far this is what I have learned…<br />
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1) In the words of Yoda, “ Try not. Do... or do not. There is no try…”. And to that end, my mantra has become: “I CAN”. <br />
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2) In order to manifest what you want you need to surround yourself with the positive…Uplifting movies, music, books, etc…Positive thoughts are like a whirlpool. They swirl around and around sweeping up more positives as they go. <br />
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3) When I begin to have doubts or when I feel negativity creeping in I repeat the following words, “I choose to be happy.” For I truly believe happiness is a choice. Yes, there will be times when sadness cannot be avoided. But I have the choice to submerse myself in it or move past it. <br />
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4) I ask myself, “Just what does my Universe look like?” OR “What do I really want?” And then I start creating an environment to welcome all the things I would like to have in my Universe.<br />
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5) If something is weighing me down, I need to let it go!…I tell myself that I refuse to let negativity into my space. I try to imagine sweeping my space clean of any cobwebs that clutter it or slow me down. <br />
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6) I try to find something to be grateful for everyday even if all I can think of is the fact that I woke up that particular day. So many of the good things in our lives are truly taken for granted.<br />
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Now I don’t profess to be any sort of expert on the law of attraction but in the words of William Arthur Ward, “<b>If you can imagine it, you can achieve it; if you can dream it, you can become it.</b>” And I, for one, am truly beginning to believe!<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/-4ba3v2FV74" title="YouTube video player" width="640"></iframe>Debbie Summershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16643991647455366613noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100239360852514653.post-8655542079865506972011-02-21T20:44:00.001-05:002011-03-04T18:52:39.382-05:00Dreaming in Prismacolor<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hK2ZS7Pvx50/TWMUquOHhTI/AAAAAAAAAEU/jo5EMqjehs4/s1600/CIMG1325a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="249" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hK2ZS7Pvx50/TWMUquOHhTI/AAAAAAAAAEU/jo5EMqjehs4/s320/CIMG1325a.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>My drawing board was set up, the pencils were sharpened and the background music was playing. I picked up a pencil and began to sketch….Petals, leaves and stems began to take shape. When I was satisfied that the sketch was exact to the original photograph, I took the plunge and began to color in the individual items. My armed tensed and for a moment I stopped and took a breath.<br />
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<i>Think of what you’re drawing</i>! I told myself. I had chosen a lotus flower, simply because a very spiritual friend had recently told me that my lotus heart was beginning to open up. It hadn’t been the first time the lotus had been brought to my attention. And so I chose to draw a pink one surrounded by lots of green leaves and shadow. <br />
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Now you might be asking yourself, <i>What is the big deal?</i> Well…Up until this point I had only been drawing in black and white--Black and white portraits to be exact. In fact, black and white had become the order of my life. It seemed that for the better part of the past ten years I had lived my life from one crisis to the next…. An endless lists of tasks to be done…Duties and obligations executed with the skill of a surgeon. Color did not seem to be in my vocabulary. <br />
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So here I was for the very first time drawing in color. I put my pencil to the paper once again. As I continued to color the petals, I began to see the many nuances not noted upon first glance. And I realized that while my flower was called a pink lotus, it was a combination of many shades that actually formed the whole of the flower…Magenta, Raspberry, Maroon, Red, Terra Cotta and even a tad of Green and White. <br />
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<i>Why hadn’t I noticed that upon first inspection?</i> I asked myself. But then I realized that just as that flower had so many facets, so did I. I just hadn’t been able or ready to notice them. I had been going along in life collecting experiences like pennies in a jar without ever stopping to count or inspect them, or perhaps cash them in or trade up to lighten the load. <br />
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And then it suddenly occurred to me just what the lotus symbolized. For a lotus is born from the mud and murky waters and rises like a phoenix from the ashes to bloom above the water’s realm, its petals reaching up toward the sun and sky to find the light. It is very much like the spiritual awakening or an evolution of the soul from the depths of materialism and earthly things to enlightenment. And the irony of the pink is that it is reserved for the highest deities and is the earth symbol for Buddha. <br />
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Again I thought about the deeper meaning of what I was drawing. My lotus flower was surrounded by green leaves in many shades and layered over each other…Green, the color of resurrection and regeneration. Then I recalled something I had read awhile back about the color green. In Iran it is one of the colors that symbolizes paradise. In Portugal it stands for hope. In Japan, it represents eternal life. That gave me pause. <br />
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It was obvious to me now that my subconscious was trying to tell me something as green and pink are also associated with the Heart Chakra. It was a gift to myself as the lotus stands for transformation and rebirth as well. I recalled the conversation about my lotus heart and the manifesting of my heart’s desires. Just what did I want in my Universe? What did my Universe look like? I reflected on this for moment then concluded that as safe as “black and white” seemed, I wanted the shades of gray and the colors as well. I began to feel a bit like Dorothy in her black and white house about to open the door to the whole new world of Oz, a world full of color and strange and exciting new experiences. <br />
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What would I find on the other side? I pondered this for a moment, as when all was said and done, all Dorothy had wanted to do while in Oz was return to her home. And her journey down the yellow brick road was filled with danger. A hint of doubt wriggled up. Was I truly ready to move forward? To open up my heart once again to life’s possibilities? To risk disappointment? But then I realized that for better or worse all my experiences of the past had brought me to this point in my life. Each and every one had taught me something. I just needed to figure out the end game…My raison d’etre…<br />
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People always seem to argue the merits of destiny and fate controlling your life. They ask what the point of living is if you are predestined to be a certain way or live a certain life. But I believe that at any given moment you are where you are supposed to be. There is a purpose to your life. You just have to discover what it is . Life is a one way journey, each of us on a different path but all destined for “home”--The place where Light and Love welcome us with open arms and Enlightenment completes us. <br />
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And Life can be chaotic, unpredictable, multicolored, sometimes streaming like a rainbow and other times swirled and muddled like the bottom of swamp or the inside of a tornado. But oh, when those colors came together in the right combination? Those were the moments that truly transformed you and made your heart sing. And the shades of gray? Well they made you more human, more compassionate, more understanding…<br />
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I kept drawing, adding more color, more shades and when I was finished I went back and worked on the finer details. Those small things that gave the drawing depth and definition. And when I was finally done I sat back to look at the whole drawing and thought yes, it was time to take stock of my life…Time to take those pennies out the jar and decide just what to do with them. To put all the pieces together and see the bigger picture. To take all my experiences and fine tune my life’s course, manifesting all that was good and right and letting go of that which no longer served me. To go forward fearless and with the faith that I was headed toward a higher ground. <br />
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I put my pencil down, then glanced one last time at my lotus. My heart seemed to swell with an immense sense of joy for the many blessings of the day. And somewhere deep down I had the sense that that night I would be dreaming in color. <br />
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Debbie Summershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16643991647455366613noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100239360852514653.post-34131009979475297012011-01-21T19:42:00.000-05:002011-01-21T19:42:55.653-05:00ACROSS THE UNIVERSEA few nights ago, I decided to go stargazing. This was not a momentous occasion, in itself, as I’ve been doing this for years. But on this particular night, I was going to try out my new telescope. It took awhile, as I am much better with philosophy than technology, but finally after several attempts I was able to see the moon in all its celestial splendor. The detail was breathtaking--craters and peaks as crisp as a BluRay DVD, magnificent in magnification. I thought back to the night that one man from Earth stepped out of a spaceship and walked on that Moon back in 1969. I was grinning from ear to ear.<br />
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But still, as I folded up the tripod a few moments later, and brought the telescope back into the house, I felt the pull of the night sky. Once again, I headed outside and stood in my backyard, my eyes lifted to the stars. It was cold and I shivered but as is often the case on chilly winter nights, the sky was clear and as lit up as a Christmas tree. I soon forgot the temperature as my spirits lifted as well.<br />
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I’d been attracted to the heavens for most of my life, as I believe many are. For me, there is nothing so primal and commanding as the canopy of the stars surrounded by the Earth’s dark shadow of night--That time when a hushed stillness comes over half the planet and the yearnings of the soul come to light--When the voice of your heart becomes louder in the silence that surrounds you. <br />
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How many times, I ask myself, have I gazed up at this same sky, looking for answers to the questions of “why”, “if” and “how”, my eyes fixed upon the moon or a bright star, my heart open to whatever the Universe might reveal? Or perhaps, focused upon my life lessons and what I have learned or still need to learn?<br />
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People stargaze for different reasons: To try to understand something larger than themselves, for solace--believing that perhaps the stars are a guiding force of guardian angels, to revel in the magnificence of the Creator, or for a scientific explanation of the Universe.<br />
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I think of the ancients in Mesopotamia watching the heavens. I get a sense of their excitement as they discover a group of stars that move across the sky and they name them “planets” (Greek for “wanderers”). I imagine them in the warm stillness of the cradle of civilization, observing patterns in the luminescent bodies and creating personas for each and every one. I can hear the Greeks, divining the list of twelve constellations created by the Babylonians into a Zodiac (Greek for “animal circle”). I think of Galileo and his telescope and his first close up of the cosmos…And of Ptolemy, Newton and Einstein looking at the same sky asking the serious questions about space and time. <br />
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I can hear Astrologers talk of the power of the stars and their connection to destiny. I recall them speaking of Mercury retrograde, of the recent Moon in Aquarius and the Moon in my Seventh House… Of conjunctions and squares…Of Lunar eclipses…and though I don’t know much of this field, I must agree that there is something above, some power, beyond my comprehension that I reverently acknowledge. <br />
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A friend recently told me that “stargazing was a form of prayer.” And as I fix my stare upon Polaris, I would have to agree. When all is said and done, I look to the stars for the deeper meaning of my life. I imagine a force greater than anything on Earth, Ever-Present and All-Knowing, and I pray for strength, wisdom, and the knowledge that I need to move forward and become all that I can be. I think of my ancestors gazing at these same stars and yearning for the very same things that I long for--the health, safety and well-being of themselves and their kin.<br />
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I stand there in the dark silence of the night and think of all the people that at this very same point in time are gazing upon this same canvas of celestial bodies--filled with the same hope, despair, longing, dreams and questions that mankind has always held deep within the recesses of the heart and mind and I am filled with a sense of wonderment for the collective unconscious of the human psyche. My hand wraps around the amethyst quartz stone I wear on the chain around my neck and for a moment I close my eyes.<br />
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Who, beside me, is looking to these same heavens for Divine answers? Does someone in Canada ask for inspiration? Is there a mother in Haiti praying for healing? An end to her struggles? Is the farmer in Brazil praying for a bountiful harvest? Is a father in Mexico asking for an end to violence? I realize that no matter what I am feeling in the moment, I am not alone and I am comforted. I tighten my grip on the amethyst, take a deep breath and smile. <br />
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My feet are steady beneath me, rooted to a living Mother Earth and I understand finally, the power that comes from within--that inexplicable sixth sense that binds us all to each other and to Spirit or the Higher Power of God-- and I realize that I am part of the constellation of humanity bound to planet Earth, a member of a Solar System connected to a Galaxy, melded to a living Universe… ever-moving, expanding, evolving…<br />
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I am not alone indeed…Debbie Summershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16643991647455366613noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100239360852514653.post-23092422277985072432010-12-16T21:19:00.000-05:002010-12-18T12:45:41.175-05:00If These Hands Could TalkMary walked into the nail salon as she’d done a dozen times before, took a look around and saw that today was going to be a very busy day. All the pedicure chairs were full and it seemed that every employee was in attendance. <br />
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Tina, a very petite Vietnamese girl, looked up from her station and immediately smiled.“Hi Mary!” She said. “You want Fill-In? Pedicure?" <br />
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Mary looked down at her wrinkled hands. “Just a Fill-In today, Tina.” <br />
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“Pick a color.” Tina swung her head in the direction of the nail polish rack. “I’ll be ready for you in ten minute.”<br />
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She said it out of habit, as she knew that Mary liked her nails to look natural and she never used polish. Mary returned the smile then took a seat. As is often the case when a woman is in the company of other women, she felt herself being sized up by some of the other female customers. Though she could have easily thrown on a pair of sweats that day, her upbringing had instilled in her the notion of always looking her best. At times it had caused her problems. And it had saddened her to discover over the years just how many people judged someone on appearance alone. But she had refused to allow others to change who she was or what she believed. She simply looked over, smiled at them and hoped they would smile back. <br />
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As she glanced back at Tina, she saw her wave and Mary stood, eager to get on with it as she had a million things to do that day.<br />
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When she was settled in her chair, she held out her hands. Tina gave them a careful inspection. Two of Mary’s nails had broken off and her hands looked especially old in the fluorescent glare of the shop‘s lights.<br />
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“You work hard?” Tina asked, then laughed.<br />
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“Hard enough…” Mary responded. She’d broken them wrapping several Christmas packages for a local charity.<br />
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As Tina went about her business Mary leaned back in her chair, her reply still lingering.<i> Hard enough</i> …..Her gaze fell upon her hands.<i> If these hands could talk…</i> She smiled to herself.<i> If they could talk indeed…. </i><br />
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“You not working today?” Tina always asked her this. <br />
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And her reply was always “No.”<br />
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“You lucky…” Tina commented.<br />
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<i>Lucky</i>? She asked herself. She often wondered if it hadn’t been more by some sort of <i>cosmic</i> design. Mary hadn’t worked outside the home in eighteen years. Not since her daughter had been one year old. How many times had she heard just how fortunate she was to be able to do this? Probably more times than she could count. Mary would always nod in agreement never telling anyone about the disability that sometimes robbed her of days at a time. She was still grateful though, regardless of the reason, that she had been able to spend those years at home with her children.<br />
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As Tina applied new nail tips to her fingers with the broken nails, Mary’s mind wandered back to her younger years. Years of working in labs, her index fingers etched from working with acid, and parched from years of scrubbing glassware. How many jobs had she had over the years? More than she could count on two hands. The thought brought a wry smile to her lips. And an image of her hands always busy…Serving food to patients at the local hospital, tearing off EKG strips for Doctors to inspect in an Intensive Care Unit, putting up sales displays at a Department Store, hauling fifty pound bags of grass seed when she’d worked in a Garden Shop…. And then the more pleasant memory of doling out bridal gowns and veils to anxious brides-to-be when she’d worked in the Bridal Shop. Mary could easily state that she’d never been afraid of work.<br />
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“How’s your daughter?” Tina interrupted her flow of thoughts. <br />
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“She’s better... Thanks Tina.” All the girls at the salon knew that Mary’s daughter had struggled with an autoimmune disease and then a bout with cancer. It had been a very long tough battle. Annie had always been delicate and then at the age of twelve she had gotten very sick. Mary once again wandered back in time, her mind filled with more images--the bitter and the sweet.<br />
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Yes, her hands had many stories to tell…Washing bottles and endless loads of baby clothes…. Patting backs, rubbing tummies, playing peek-a boo, wiping up accidents from the kitchen and bathroom floors…Helping the kids get dressed, making things for school projects,…And then the darker memories…Holding Annie’s hand through all of her medical tests, Doctor’s appointments and surgeries. Hours spent wondering how it all would turn out… And the hardest of all…Placing her hands on her daughter’s shoulders to tell her she’d had cancer…And though Annie was over the worst of it, she still struggled to this day and Mary still took care of her. Yes, staying home had been a blessing.<br />
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Tina pulled out her gel powders. “You want pink and white fill-in? And nails shorter?”<br />
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Mary nodded. “Yes. Not too long.” Mary had become an artist and a writer in recent years and needed her fingers to be useful as well as “glamorous”…It was another reason for her ever present gratitude of being able to remain at home with the kids. She would never have discovered these talents otherwise. Or that she might be able to actually make a living at doing the things that she loved. <br />
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Tina pulled one of Mary’s hands closer and proceeded to fill in each nail bed with pink gel. “You got a party to go to?” It was almost New Year’s Eve and it was a logical assumption. <br />
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“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do.” Mary had a wonderful party to attend at a friend’s house. ---A well to do friend whose parties were the talk of the town. Mary traveled in such circles--And a friend whose recommendation of a certain Doctor had once saved her life. Yes, life had given her many blessings. <br />
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“You gonna wear something sexy?” Tina asked, quite seriously.<br />
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Mary had to resist the urge to laugh. “At my age? Probably not…”<br />
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Tina tsked, tsked. “Your age? You still young!!”<br />
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At the half century mark, Mary didn’t think so. But truthfully the mirror told another tale for she didn‘t look anything near to her age--Another blessing. Her hands however, told a different story.<br />
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Her life hadn’t always been comfortable…Memories came flooding back…Living in welfare housing, trying to repair a hole in the ceiling to keep the roaches out, cleaning up a neighbor’s face after her boyfriend beat her, putting up a tent in her living room when she babysat the neighbor’s son to give him a break from parents who partied way too much, fending off an abusive partner and other images that she fought hard to forget. <br />
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And then there was one very distinct memory in great detail…A dozen eggs dropped on the floor--her hands cleaning up the goopy mess with tears streaming down her face--as she was flat broke till the end of the month and she wouldn‘t be able to buy any more food.<br />
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But that was all in the past…<br />
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Mary hadn’t realized just how much time had passed while she'd gotten lost in past remembrances until Tina smiled then let go of her hands. She looked down at her fingers, now all manicured and pretty, the white tips of the nails glistening. Upon closer inspection she realized that her hands were actually quite lovely. Wrinkled? Yes…But sturdy and capable as well. And with the grace of God perhaps she’d have many more years ahead to make them useful.<br />
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“You know, Tina, perhaps I’ll take your advice.” Yes, she’d go out today and buy herself a new dress. Something daring to celebrate her life and all that she had to be grateful for. For after her party, a new business venture awaited-- A wonderful opportunity to promote her artwork. It looked like she was finally on her way to realizing a dream. <br />
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“Thanks so much Tina. And I hope you have a wonderful New Year!”<br />
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“You, too, Mary!” Tina gave her the warmest of smiles then whispered. “Buy a red dress. You look good in red!” <br />
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Mary chuckled then paid the bill and headed out to do her chores.<br />
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Later, at home, as she sat down to check her email she found a note from a friend with a request to make a list of NewYear’s Resolutions. She sat for a bit and considered just what exactly it was that she wanted to do with the rest of her life. With her thoughts still focused on her musings of earlier that day, she leaned forward and started to type:<br />
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<b>My List of Things To Do Before I Leave Planet Earth</b><br />
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1) To be all that I can be, no matter what circumstances I find myself in.<br />
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2) To spread joy, wherever I go, and try to make others smile.<br />
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3) To help in any way that I am able to, when the need arises, wherever I may be or with whom. <br />
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4) To use my creativity in productive and inspirational ways.<br />
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5) To do my best, in whatever way I can, to ensure that children will not have to suffer unfairly or unnecessarily, in any way, shape or form.<br />
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6) To try to spend what's left of my life savoring the little things...<br />
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7) To learn to be happy with what I have, even if it doesn't seem like my fair share...<br />
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8) To learn to accept my limitations and love myself no matter how inept or useless I may feel at times...<br />
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9) To learn to trust others and lean on them if they offer help.<br />
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10)To accept that there will always be people who will judge me and who will never understand my hardships and to not allow them to rob me of my joy.<br />
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With that completed, she sat back and gazed down at her now pampered hands. <i>Yes,</i> Mary<i> </i>thought<i>, if these hands could talk they would raise themselves to the heavens and say, “ Thank you! For the many opportunities you have brought this way. For they have made us what we are today.” And then, they would get ready to reach out in faith, to do whatever was right and necessary, knowing that whatever the future brought, things would be as they should be. </i><br />
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And she wouldn’t have it any other way… <br />
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May the New Year bring each and every one of you blessings in abundance and may you never forget all that you have to be thankful for! <br />
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Happy New Year…<br />
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Debbie Summershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16643991647455366613noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100239360852514653.post-18827250324422131572010-12-10T23:28:00.000-05:002010-12-10T23:28:10.821-05:00FOOD FOR THOUGHTI found this online and thought I'd share it with you... <br />
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Try to keep in mind the following:<br />
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-if you have woken up this morning feeling healthy, you are luckier than 500 million people that will not wake up the next morning<br />
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-if you have never experienced the fear of war, loneliness, incarceration, the agony of torture, hunger, you are in a better position than 500 million people in the world<br />
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-if you can enter a church freely, without threats, or the fear of getting arrested or discriminated against, you are luckier than 3 billion people on the planet<br />
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-if you have food in the refrigerator, clothes on your body, roof over your head, a place to sleep in, you are richer than 75% of inhabitants of this planet<br />
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-if you have money in the bank, your wallet, or change somewhere in some box, you are among 8% of well-to-do people<br />
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-if you have parents, and are still married, you belong in a rare group of people<br />
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-if you can read this text, you are not among 2 billion people who cannot read<br />
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Somebody said once: work as if you do not need money, love as if you have never suffered, dance as if nobody is watching you and sing as if nobody is listening.<br />
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Live as if Heaven is on Earth. And when you read this know that somebody is thinking of you and that you are not alone.....Debbie Summershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16643991647455366613noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100239360852514653.post-24520501576548808762010-11-29T17:28:00.000-05:002010-11-29T17:28:26.184-05:00Mosaic...A little piece of me....So one of my favorite bands "Apocalytica" is making a fan mosaic of 10,000 fans for their next album cover. I've decided to join them in immortalizing myself. What a great idea!<br />
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</a>Debbie Summershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16643991647455366613noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100239360852514653.post-550744813676943272010-11-21T22:51:00.000-05:002010-11-22T23:50:09.888-05:00PremonitionAs if things have not been strange enough for me lately, I had a weird dream the other night. I have been on a sort of vision quest the past two or three years, determined to find what Paulo Coelho calls my "personal legend", my raison d'etre, my purpose in life. And so far I have discovered this talent I have for art.<br />
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And so, in the past two years I have often dreamed of things relating to my creativity. I once dreamed of a box of chalk and a baby. The chalk was a gift to me given by the person who inspired me to draw portraits in the first place, the baby my first stage of growth.<br />
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Well the other night I dreamed of a small child. It seemed my baby had now become a toddler. As I watched my toddler scamper across the room a man walked by. He was dressed in tan slacks and a cream colored shirt. He was tall, with dark hair and eyes. And though his face wasn't all that clear, I somehow knew his name. He passed by me, smiled and then receded into the background, where he remained in shadow. I peered in to get a closer look but it wasn't possible. It seemed as if he just wanted to check in on me somehow. <br />
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When I awoke the next day, I thought that I had had a prophetic dream about someone I was yet to meet. Yet I couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was about to happen. I remember telling a friend about the dream and even posting on Facebook about my uneasiness.<br />
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Well the day after that, I learned that a good friend had died unexpectedly at the age of 46. And lo and behold his name was the very same one of the man I had dreamed of. In fact, he fit the description of the man in the dream. But the strangest thing of all was that I had seen that very same friend about a month prior and we had had a very serious conversation about past lives and what happens to the soul after you die. He was a very spiritual man, compassionate and caring to a fault and we had often explored life's mysteries and possibilities beyond that which could be scientifically proved. <br />
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I could never have imagined that a month later he would be dead. Nor that I would see him in a dream. I am still in shock. But I have come to the realization that he has moved on to a better place.And as my child in my dream had become a toddler, perhaps my friend is growing and evolving as well... Moving on to a different plane with different lessons to learn.<br />
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Bon voyage, my dear friend....May your journey be a good one...Maybe in another time, we'll meet again... <br />
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All my love,<br />
D<br />
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<object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/qgUL3ut4gyQ?fs=1&hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/qgUL3ut4gyQ?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object>Debbie Summershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16643991647455366613noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100239360852514653.post-32302360775115337302010-11-11T09:24:00.001-05:002014-10-17T22:21:35.886-04:00ABOUT ME...I like Monet and Degas, they saw the big picture. I like the big picture. Details just wear me out. Speaking of pictures, I’m a movie buff, of most genres… but especially oldies like those of Betty Davis and Errol Flynn. They knew how to do it with flare! And being a huge fan of Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers, I love ballroom dancing. The way to my heart is a turn at the tango. As for music, QUEEN ROCKS! But anything from Reggae to Ragtime can sweep me along if the tune is just right. Music speaks to me. It inspires me to dream great dreams and comforts me when nothing else will. <br />
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I never do things halfway. It’s an all-or-nothing proposition for me. …If I say I’m gonna do something, I will. And when you ask me my opinion, I’ll give it. In fact, if you asked me who I might have been in another life I would probably tell you I was a warrior, an infamous courtier or burned at the stake. <br />
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Don’t talk to me of the weather or the latest game score. Tell me your secret wishes, your greatest dreams and your highest hopes. Speak to me of times past and futures imagined- of poets and politicians and philosophers. Give me your list of things to achieve. And I’ll give you mine. Here goes… I want to jump out of a plane and sail through the sky (with a parachute attached, of course. I might be an idiot but I’m no fool) …I’d like to float up above the hills in the basket of a hot air balloon…to speak Portuguese, the tongue of my Grandfather…to learn to play a piano so I can sing my heart out into the wee hours of the morning…to write one of the greatest love stories of our time…<br />
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If life is a highway then I’ve taken a few detours along the way and most times, not of my own choice. Somehow, though, I always manage to find my way back to the Main Road. My motto?....No matter what you do in life, do your best. And go the distance!!!! Better to fail, and ask “What next?” than to withdraw and ask “What if?” Sometimes real life is stranger than fiction but you’ll never know unless you get out there and live it!!! And while you’re living it, please remember to always be kind and throw your trash in the proper receptacle.Debbie Summershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16643991647455366613noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100239360852514653.post-45572982810619021972010-11-09T09:51:00.001-05:002014-10-17T22:25:55.598-04:00The Lady in BlackOnce upon a time there was a girl named, Serene, whose voice was so lovely that the people of her town called her the “Nightingale of Newcastle ”. On hot summer nights they would gather on the town square lawn and Serene’s voice would fill the air with a array of notes that was as sweet as any confection known to man. Her Granny took to calling her a little sunflower and said she spread sunshine wherever she went. Folks said it was a gift from God. Serene called it a blessing, as from the time she was aware that she could produce such an enchanting repertoire of musical melodies, she knew that this was what she was born to do. <br />
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And though no one could have imagined it possible, as time went on, her voice grew even more beautiful as did Serene. But with this newfound beauty Serene grew restless. Something was missing from her life. Her odd dreams told her so. And though all who heard her sing were in agreement as to the magnitude of her gift, their applause left her wanting. <br />
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One day she decided to leave her hometown for a bigger city. She hoped that sharing her gift in a larger place would make her feel whole once again. However, over time as she gained more fame, the emptiness inside only grew. And no accomplishment, not even her gig at the Grand Theatre in the heart of the City could assuage the loneliness she carried within. Then one night, as she walked on stage to perform, she heard a voice inside her head. <br />
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“He’s here!”….the voice inside her whispered.<br />
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“Who?” She asked aloud. But no answer came. <br />
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Her eyes peered into the endless sea of faces in front of her but she was blinded by the lights on stage. Yet her heart sang. And her joy bubbled up and spilled over into the notes of the song that followed. And though she had no explanation for it, for the first time in a very long while she wasn’t lonely. And when her performance was done, they showered her with roses, and applause and suddenly her heart swelled with gratitude for the instrument of her voice. <br />
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Afterward she sat in her dressing room, buoyed by the song in her heart that refused to be stilled. Her feet wanted to dance, to whirl around the room in dizzying unison with the music that played in her soul but a knock at the door broke her reverie. Instead of being annoyed, however, she cried out in anticipation. “Come in!” <br />
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He entered the room with flowers. But not just any flowers. <br />
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“I thought you might like these.” He said with a certainty that made her smile as he handed her the bouquet. His fingers were long and graceful and though she didn’t understand why, she knew that he used them to create beautiful things. <br />
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“Indeed…” she replied, motioning him to sit down beside her. She cradled the flowers in her arm, as one would hold a baby. She imagined a painting of herself in shades of gold and yellow doing just this. <br />
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“Sunflowers.” She sighed, then glanced at the photograph on her dressing table. His eyes followed her gaze. The picture was yellow with age-- taken by a Brownie camera and worn at the edges. A little girl stood surrounded by the dazzling golden bonnets of sunflowers. They filled the photograph. Her smile , however, overshadowed the entire field.<br />
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“Indeed…” He mimicked her, then smiled .<br />
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“Granny took that photo.” She simply stated. <br />
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“You must have been her little sunflower.” He then laughed. And her heart quickened. <br />
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Her eyes came to rest on his...Green pools of light that pulled her into an eddy of contentment. And suddenly she knew….Knew that he was the reason for her song. <br />
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“I’m Thomas---”<br />
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“I’m Serene---” <br />
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They spoke in unison.<br />
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“I’m an artist.” he continued…. <br />
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“I know.” She answered with the same assuredness that he had shown earlier. <br />
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“Let’s go to dinner.” It was more a declaration than an invitation and as such, she should have been insulted. But she knew, just as she had known that he was an artist, that things were as they should be. <br />
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“Italian?” She stood then readied herself to go . He nodded.<br />
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“Spaghetti?” He recommended. She nodded as well.<br />
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“And champagne!” She insisted.<br />
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“My favorite.” He smiled “Espresso? Afterward?”<br />
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“Of course!” She emphatically stated. “How else would we end such an evening? <br />
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“End?” He stood, reached for her hand then placed her arm in his. "I suspect, my dear, that for you and I, there will only be a series of intermissions." <br />
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And no conclusion was ever truer because from that time on they were inseparable. He bought her Caruso records for her victrola and sunflowers from the florist on the corner. She bought him paints from Paris. They went to dance halls and danced till closing. And on wintry nights when there was nothing to be done they simply talked….Hours spent in conversation and never a lack of topic. And so, within six months they decided to marry. <br />
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On nights when Serene was spent, after a long performance, Thomas would draw her a bath and then put her to bed. And on others when he was uninspired he would go to the theatre and sit in his favorite seat where she would be sure to see him. He would close his eyes and simply listen to her make love to him with her voice. And then he would come home and paint, her songs in his heart, her music in the hand that moved across the canvas. <br />
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It was not always easy between them. She snored at times and kept him awake. He drank too much on others. And both had strong opinions. But they were as imperfectly perfect as two people could ever be. <br />
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Five years passed. Five years of more happiness than either of them had ever imagined possible. And then one Autumn afternoon on a day when Serene did not have to perform she burst through the door of their apartment, her heart aflutter with excitement.<br />
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“What is it my darling?” Thomas thought she had never looked lovelier even if she was dressed completely in black. <br />
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She placed her purse on the bedside table then reached for the pin in her hat. She wanted to be calm when she told him her news. The light from the window cast a beam of gold upon her and her auburn hair was suddenly ablaze in brandished fire. Thomas audibly sighed.<br />
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“Wait!” he cried then stilled her hand. “Don’t move!” Serene watched as he ran to gather his easel and then his paints. <br />
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He made her stand in the light, her hair bathed in the beams while he brought her to life on canvas. Serene who was accustomed to his bursts of inspiration was quite content to oblige him. He painted furiously his hand racing against the coming of night…His lady, all in black save for a burst of auburn flame and the honey hue of her skin. But halfway through he glanced up and found her studying him. And when his eyes met hers, she rendered him a smile... A secret smile… designed only for a lover’s eyes…A smile that promised so much more. And suddenly he forgot his good intentions.<br />
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He led her to their bed, and beckoned her to sit down. Then he knelt to remove her boots. Carefully with the gentleness of a handmaiden before a queen he helped her remove her garments one by one.And when they were face to face at last, Serene felt such a rush of love for Thomas it filled every space of her being. In that moment there were no words to be uttered and her news was soon forgotten. For love was in a language that had been written long before either of them had ever been born. And he loved her until all rational thought ceased to be. <br />
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Darkness enveloped them when she awoke save for a sliver of light from a marquis across the street that glanced over Thomas. She ached to wake him and tell him of her news but he slumbered so peacefully she let him be. Instead she slipped away quietly and ran down to the Italian Restaurant across the street to see if the owners would make her up two plates of spaghetti, antipasto, and whatever else she could think of….And pastries for dessert. For there was much to celebrate--A secret that had been kept for several weeks now until she was certain that it could be revealed. <br />
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A few minutes later , she scurried toward the restaurant’s front door, her arm heavy with her purchase and her thoughts a menagerie of daydreams. As she exited, the brisk October night seemed to slap at her taking her breath away. The insults kept coming, a cacophony of rat ta tat tat, that should have alerted her to danger. But her senses had turned inward as she contemplated how happy Thomas would be at her news. <br />
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The black sedan sped by spraying the storefront with a maelstrom of bullets. Glass and wood exploded all around her. But she was distracted by the wet spot on her waistcoat now gliding across her abdomen. She reached down to touch the warm fluid that seeped out from some mysterious origin and her hand came away red. Somewhere behind her she heard people scream her name and then the sound of her package hitting the ground. And then there was only silence.<br />
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* * * * * * * * *<br />
Debbie Summershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16643991647455366613noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100239360852514653.post-90165840382959673682010-10-20T20:21:00.000-04:002014-10-17T22:24:54.185-04:00Hmmm...Well I haven't been on much lately due to real life getting in the way. It never does rain but it pours! I'm back at the drawing board, working on a portrait of the G man, Gerry Butler and while I'm doing this it looks like I might have another commission. And I just woke up one day with a great idea for a novel, so off to NaNoWriMo land I go next month to try and write 50,000 words in 30 days. And as if THAT isn't enough I am going on vacation next week....<br />
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Which brings me to my next topic...PAST LIVES...And the novel I'm going to write....<br />
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But a quick blurb would not do this topic justice so I'll save it for next time. But perhaps in the meantime you can consider just what you think about this notion. Are souls recycled? Do we get "do overs" in order to transform into higher beings worthy of going to the ethereal plane? Or do we only get one shot at life and then live eternity with the consequences?<br />
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Think about it.......Debbie Summershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16643991647455366613noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100239360852514653.post-82353513291087657412010-10-14T08:31:00.000-04:002010-10-14T08:32:40.873-04:00The Sky's The Limit This is my idea of a perfect day:<br />
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<br />
Arms outstretched, opened wide<br />
I gaze upon a great divide.<br />
Metal bird, wings that soar<br />
Take me to the evermore...<br />
Then let me go, down to below<br />
Poised, I take a breath................. <i>then jump.</i>.......................<br />
Plummeting<br />
Through pristine<br />
Clouds of chrystalline<br />
Shards of ice<br />
Flashes of white<br />
Winds slap <br />
And attack<br />
My breath held back<br />
Plunging downward<br />
Spiral dances<br />
Gravity is not my friend<br />
Nor backward glances<br />
<i>It's time</i>! Screams my inner voice<br />
I heed the words and make the choice<br />
And yank the cord,<br />
Such reward, to hear the swoosh of parachute<br />
Relief I absolutely can't refute.<br />
The ground below spreads its arms<br />
Mother Earth turns on her charm<br />
She calls to me...<br />
Such ecstasy, the view from up above <br />
I'm sailing down, like peaceful dove<br />
Sailing... soaring... sailing.......<br />
...Glance below...<br />
The canvas getting larger, verdant, the greens diverging<br />
Becoming bushes, trees and grass, details emerging<br />
And then my feet touch ground at last.<br />
Replete yet empty, I look up <br />
Blinded by the sun once more<br />
I want to rise again and soar<br />
'Gainst gravity and Newton's law...<br />
I gather parachute and walk away<br />
Thinking that tomorrow is another day.....Debbie Summershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16643991647455366613noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100239360852514653.post-22111127704736349332010-10-13T11:56:00.001-04:002010-10-13T12:01:21.152-04:00Zerophilia???So last Friday night when I finally had the big huge TV in the family room all to myself I decided to settle in and watch one of my favorite movies, Zerophilia. For those who have no idea what it's about, it's basically about people of either sex that have an extra chromosome and can change sex initially whenever they have the "O". Eventually they discover that they prefer one sex over the other and they choose to be one or the other.<br />
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Now imagine if we all could do that. No more "Men are from Mars, Women from Venus" books, no more counseling to understand why he doesn't listen, and she never shuts up, no more wondering what turns the other sex on...It sure does sound great. Of course sex education would be a nightmare. But hey, that would be a small price to pay.<br />
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But honestly, if you could choose what sex you'd like to be, would you choose any differently? And underneath it all are men really all that different from women? Or do all of us carry the same baggage to a greater or lesser degree? And how much of who we are, male or female, is really just the product of our socialization?<br />
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Science theorizes that for a fetus to become male an extra step is needed that causes some degree of damage to the bridge between the two hemispheres of the male brain. It definitely allows men to focus more intensely on one thing at a time. Ever try to talk to a guy while he's watching a football game? See how far you get with that. A corpse would probably be more responsive.<br />
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Now women on the other hand have a huge bridge between the two hemispheres which accounts for how a mother can be on the phone while typing on her laptop and helping her kids with their homework. Of course all that multitasking means her brain is always in overdrive, which is probably why we talk so much. <br />
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Then of course there's the Venus and Mars people who say that men "do" and women "feel". Okay....So that's why your hubby buys you a vacuum cleaner for your 20th wedding anniversary and you "feel" insulted. And of course, he fixes your car out of love rather than for fear of hearing you nag about how he never delivers.<br />
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Alright so maybe there ARE a few differences. But how different? Ever look at women after menopause? Their hair thins, their waists thicken, voices deepen and they develop a keen sense of not putting up with any crap from anybody. They become like...their husbands.<br />
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And the husbands? Well... after a certain age they suddenly seem to develop a desire for conversation and a keen interest in what exactly their female partners do all day.<br />
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So does it all come down to a hormone ratio? Who knows? Or do we really want to know? <br />
Debbie Summershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16643991647455366613noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7100239360852514653.post-66156831571561794342010-10-12T10:31:00.001-04:002010-10-12T19:47:32.834-04:00My Country Tis of Thee...In three weeks, those of us in the USA will go to the polls and vote for Congressional candidates in National elections. Ad campaigns bandy about slogans, news media outlets spew out stories about national policy issues and controversial campaigns. Democrats slur Republicans. Republicans retaliate. Same old, same old.<br />
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To me the larger question is: Who will stand up for America? For the principals upon which this country was built? Have we forgotten why we became a nation in the first place?<br />
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Now I don’t like bringing up politics as it is a very thorny issue with most people but I would ask of everyone these few questions before you go and vote. Are you better off now than you were in the last election? Are we headed in the right direction? Are our incumbants adhering to the principals upon which our country was founded? Are you happy with the balance of power between the government and the people?<br />
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Then go and vote….<br />
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As for me, I’m going to vote for freedom: the freedom to live my life as I see fit with minimal government interference. The freedom to choose how I die without government interference. The freedom to keep my wages in MY pocket with minimal government interference. The freedom to save my money and keep it for retirement without government interference. The freedom to raise my children as I see fit with minimal government interference. The freedom to allow my heirs to inherit what I’ve worked my whole life to build with minimal government interference. The freedom of businesses to operate with minimal government interference.And Doctors and Teachers to do the very same...<br />
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I will also vote for those who will uphold a government that will protect me from abuse whether domestic or foreign. As I see it that is its main responsibility. The rest is up to me. Debbie Summershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16643991647455366613noreply@blogger.com0