Thursday Re-View — “Walk On” by Jyoti

In my work with loss and bereavement, music is a powerful tool. It not only comforts the dying, but the living as well.

“Graceful Passages: A Companion for Living and Dying,” produced by Michael Stillwater and Gary Malkin, blends messages and music about life, death, forgiveness and acceptance, narrated by spiritual thinkers from a variety of faith traditions.

One of my favorites, which I use for myself from time to time to affirm my life journey, follows. Here, Jeanine Prevatt holds sacred her Cherokee lineage and her deep connection to the Earth. You can also find the accompanying music on iTunes if the words speak to your heart, as they do to mine.


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Walk On
~ Jyoti ~

Good morning, Grandfather.
I entered this life a ways back
and put skin on to walk two-legged on this Creation –
and what a glorious time it was.

It taught me about breath
and about sensing and feeling and caring through my heart.
And I walked on around that Red Road,
looking and trying to understand more
about the mystery and the secrets She holds.

And You spoke to me through the wind,
and You sang to me through the birds.
And You brought challenges forth so that
I might listen to the message You bring me more sincerely.
And I kept walking down this road.

And I came ’round the bend
at the middle of that curve in the road
and I began to find a secret in the Spirit of my Self…

And still I walked on, sometimes blind and deaf,
and sometimes with pain.
But I fought with my fears and I embraced my unknowingness –
and still I walked on.
And my children and my family stood with me
and we came to know each other in those later years more than we
had before – for some of our falseness had fallen away –
and still I walked on.

And I kept walking on this road towards You,
towards that other world that grew closer to me with each step.
And as the door of the Great Spirit world came closer
my fear loomed up inside sometimes…

But something called me forth –
the Morning Star rose with each day –
and my prayer became a centering – and still I walked on,
until I began to hear the Song of the Mother,
and Her arms embraced me so,
that instead of walking She carried me right to the door.
And as the door opened, I heard Her Song,
and Her Song lifted me up, so I could soar.


Monday Meeting — Sikh Man Removes Turban and Two Lives Are Changed

After a 22-year-old Sikh man removed his turban to help an injured boy, a handful of friendly strangers acted quickly to return the favor.

Harman Singh, who lives in Auckland, New Zealand, heard screeching wheels and ran outside to find that Daejon Pahia had been hit by a car.

“I saw a child down on the ground and a lady was holding him. His head was bleeding, so I unveiled my turban and put it under his head,” Singh told The New Zealand Herald. “I wasn’t thinking about the turban. I was thinking about the accident and I just thought, ‘He needs something on his head because he’s bleeding.’ That’s my job — to help. And I think anyone else would have done the same as me.”

The turban, or dastaar, is an “integral” part of the Sikh faith that is typically only removed in the privacy of one’s home, according to the Sikh Coalition.

As television news crews traveled to the Singh’s home for interviews, the world saw a peek into the man’s accommodations — which were plain and lacking furniture.

Inspired by concerned comments from viewers, the staff at New Zealand television program ONE News got in touch with a local furniture store owner and surprised Singh with a truckload of new furniture for his apartment. Singh said, through tears, “This the biggest surprise of my life.”

The Huffington Post by Antonia Blumberg

If You Want His Answer

If You Want His Answer
by Paramahansa Yogananda

Whether He replies or not,
keep calling Him —
ever calling in the chamber
of continuous prayer.

Whether He comes or not,
believe He is ever approaching
nearer to you
with each command of your heart’s love.

Whether He answers or not,
keep entreating Him.
Even if He makes no reply
in the way you expect,
ever know that in some subtle way
He will respond.

In the darkness of your deepest prayers,
know that with you He is playing

And in the midst of the dance of life, disease and death,
if you keep calling Him,
undepressed by His seeming silence,
you will receive His answer.


Monday Meeting — A Company Goes Bald Together

On Monday, 428 people at Granite Telecommunications in Quincy, MA shaved their heads in the lobby of their corporate headquarters, raising $2.1 million to support cancer research.

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The idea began as a joke when CEO Rob Hale dared one of his employees, who sported a ZZ Top-style beard, to take it off for charity. It turned into something far beyond expectations.

“I told him, we’ll give $10,000 if you’ll shave it, and he agreed to do it,” Hale tells the Good News Blog. “The next day, one of our teammates said his family had been affected by cancer, and he would be willing to shave his head for $1,000.”

Hale sent an email around saying that he’d donate money for anyone who agreed to follow suit. When the number of people involved neared 100, Hale said he would double that amount, making it $2,000 a head. When it neared 300, Hale’s mother got involved, agreeing to match the initial pitch and bringing the stakes to $3,000 a head. When close to 400 employees were ready to be sheared, Hale set the bounty at $5,000 a head.

In no time at all, the total was at over $2 million.

“In a few weeks, it went from a whimsical comment to a galvanizing moment,” Hale remarks. “It makes a powerful statement about our company, and it makes a powerful statement about cancer.”

Nearly two-thirds of the male employees at Granite Communications were part of the cutting ceremony Monday, as well as 20 women who either went bald or put their coifs toward Locks for Love. Eighteen local barbers donated their time, lining up chairs in the lobby of the office and trimming away as music played in the background. There were also gift bags for everybody and a mural to be signed.

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“It speaks to a team that’s caring compassionate, bold, energetic; I hope we are all those things and I think we showed that Monday,” Hale comments. “The other truth, cancer affects everybody… nearly everybody who was doing was doing it support or to memorialize someone who has fought or is fighting cancer.”

That includes Hale, who lost his father to pancreatic cancer six years ago. All the money raised will be donated to the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute, a hospital which helped Hale’s father survive more than 18 months after his diagnosis.

All in all, the Granite Communications team did something immense that will be felt far behind the walls of their building.

“It was a really an electric couple of hours,” Hale remarks.

For once, it appears everybody got the memo.

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Yesterdays Hero

Beautiful, poignant story that I wish I had been part of…


I saw this picture recently of a crowd sitting in lawn chairs along a parade route.  In the background, a military formation is marching by carrying our flag.  Sadly, the only one standing in a show of respect is a veteran in a wheelchair.  That bothered me, so I wrote this to give yesterdays hero the recognition he deserves.  To all our veterans, thank you for your service and my freedom.

“Excuse me” the woman calls quietly and somewhat apologetically.  “Can we get in front of you?  We won’t block your view”

Slowly the crowd parts, some reluctantly, others without hesitation.  The woman pushes the wheelchair forward, smiling as she navigated the narrow opening provided for their passage until they reach the curb.

The woman, a daughter perhaps, locks the wheels of the chair and fusses over it’s occupant, adjusting the robe in his lap, assuring his comfort. He shows no resistance to…

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Thursday Re-View — “Let’s Hear It for First Responders”

Let’s hear it for first responders in the United States of America.

Whether you’re being airlifted from rising flood waters, getting rescued from a burning building, being rushed to the hospital with excruciating chest pain, slowly being extricated from your mangled car with the Jaws of Life, being rushed to safety from a hostage situation, shielded from a shooter – you are relieved and grateful to hear the welcome police sirens, fire truck horns, helicopter blades or racing footsteps.

Thank goodness – they’re here – everything will be all right – I’m safe.

These are the selfless individuals who go toward danger rather than away from it, who save lives while risking their own.

We’ve come to expect them to arrive in force, like the Calvary – in the nick of time, never afraid or tired or sick or hung over; never preoccupied or moving slow or sleeping in or ignoring the call.

Indeed, some disasters can be identified simply by an iconic photo of first responders:

We expect them to be there and to work tirelessly until the job is done, whether one hour, one day, one month or one year. In wildfires, firefighters might work to save our homes while theirs might be burning down. After a tornado, they might be searching for survivors through the debris while their own home has been demolished. We get back to our own broken lives while they work until their duty is finished.

When they finally have time to breathe, and to return to their families for hugs, food and sleep, that’s when the crushingly difficult part begins. Their sympathetic nervous system, having been hypervigilent for so long, is overly stressed, unable to relax.

Posttraumatic Stress Disorder is not only suffered by victims of traumatic events. Feelings of guilt or failure, insomnia, intrusive images, recurrent nightmares, irritability, hyperarousal, stomach-aches, headaches, difficulty concentrating, emotional withdrawal, flashbacks – all these, and more, could plague the first responders for months or even years.

What was it like for the police, EMTs and fire department personnel to view the carnage upon entering the Sandy Hook Elementary School in Newtown, CT? Or for the physicians and related health care personnel at the hospital to wait for the injured children who never came? Or for the coroner to perform autopsies on 20 innocent first graders?

You can replace Newtown with Oklahoma City, Columbine, Hurricane Katrina, Aurora, Virginia Tech, Sandy, 9/11 (WTC, the Pentagon, Shanksville), any war, the Boston Marathon…

Their souls must be bruised.

Perhaps haunted by these experiences, these images, they will run into the chaos and destruction anyway. For you, for me, for anyone in need.

They give tirelessly of themselves, day in, day out, with little recognition, because “they’re only doing their jobs.” Those jobs are demanding, draining, debilitating. But they do them, regardless.

So who cares for the caregivers?

In honoring them here, by recognizing their tremendous worth, I hope to do my part in helping each soul to heal. Perhaps you might find your own way to do the same.

Light in the midst of darkness. Hope in the midst of despair. Love in the midst of hate.

My blessings. My respect. My gratitude.

Once again – Holiness – Sacred Ground – Circles of Compassionate Grace.


Today’s Quote

When you are inspired by some great purpose,
all your thoughts break their bonds.
Your mind transcends limitations,
your consciousness expands in every direction
and you find yourself in a
new, great and wonderful world.
Dormant forces, faculties and talents come alive,
 and you discover yourself to be
greater person by far
 than you ever dreamed yourself to be.

~ Pantanjali ~
Yoga Sutra

Today’s Quote

Have no fear of robbers or murderers.
They are external dangers, petty dangers.
We should fear ourselves.
Prejudices are the real robbers;
vices the real murderers.
The great dangers are within us.
Why worry about what threatens our heads or purses?
Let us think instead of what threatens our souls.

~ Victor Hugo ~

Today’s Quote

Every piece of marble has a statue in it
 waiting to be released
by a man of sufficient skill
to chip away the unnecessary parts.
Just as the sculptor is to the marble,
so is education to the soul.
It releases it.
For only educated men are free men.
You cannot create a statue
smashing the marble with a hammer,
and you cannot by force of arms
release the spirit or the soul of man.

~ Confucius ~