Putting My Heart Where My Mouth Is

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I stand before you today, unmasked … from my heart to yours!

Recently I made an experiment. For the first time ever I posted what I thought was just an obviously funny, but true-for-me, comment about the recent “symbolic” meeting between Pres. T and that guy from North Korea. Usually my offerings on social media are designed to either be upbeat, arty hearty, offbeat, or inspiring, but always intended to counterbalance the flow of negatives I see so prevalent everywhere these days, especially in the media. I guess I hadn’t figured on how many people’s sense of how things are, in general, is so pained these days. As a self-proclaimed spiritual activist I focus on inspiring others. My mission as an artist/writer/activist is to help uplift my fellows human beans, so our joined experiences on planet Earth is for each of us to know life’s unlimited possibilities (to help outstretch the wings of our spiritually awakened selves). I believe each of us can unfold our wings  more easily, more freely, more … joyfully, if we help each other!

Well, was I in for a shock about this particular, first-time political post of mine! A deed never to ever be repeated, let me say right here.

The negative response to my (to me at least) funny and provocative but inspiring  post (funny photo with provocative hashtags and uplifting comments) stunned me. Innocently, I’d been prompted to post this particular photo by the ridiculously inappropriate gesture that Donald Trump is giving his smiling companion, Kim Jong Un, a man who, to all appearances, has been portrayed as the biggest threat to the free world — the most dangerous of America’s longtime Communist enemies due to his father’s and grandfather’s regimes’ previous refusals to embrace the world’s demands for nuclear disarmament.

All I meant by posting this comical (to me) scenario, was to show the ludicrous, game-playing, insincere nature of politics. But, amazingly!, people thought I was seriously supporting Trump, just by the mere fact that I didn’t criticize, judge, or label this post in any negative manner. Astounding, how I was called out by one person for being judgemental when I mentioned I thought another’s response was “pessimistic” … as if it’s a bad thing to call attention to others’ name-calling (in this case, “calling Kim Jong Un a child murderer”). And thus, I was called judgemental.

Instead of people seeing that I was sharing an (again, to my mind) upbeat, positive viewpoint of what to others is obviously a very negative, very scary threat — I was spoken to as if I didn’t care. As if I were ignorant of the facts. As if others knew but I didn’t. Culminating with one person accusing me of “being in an bubble of optimism.” Instead of defending myself, getting engaged in prolonged and public argument (what some mistakenly call “a discussion”) … I announced the conversation “ended” after the insults got too weird, too nasty, too mean.

I’m not going to re-post that Trump/ Jong Un image here. If you wish to look for it and the lengthy discourse on my Facebook feed, that’s up to you. Suffice to say it drew more wrath than I’d ever dreamed possible, from my original intention. But I’m not regretting having posted it. Everything we do, everything that happens, leads us up to this present moment. Even the pain of knowing I was misunderstood, even maligned, earned me a much-needed lesson, dear friend, one I’d apparently missed in my sexy-ten years here on planet Earth.

And that is: Even if it’s a flippant post on social media, when I say something, I must always be willing to die for it! Or else don’t say it. Or do it.

Yes, I am willing to die for my beliefs. I feel that strongly about what I say with my words, and with my art. Are you willing to die for your beliefs?

Heal Psychic Wounds

Being Vulnerable, that’s ME!

I first felt this sensation of being tested — “Lay your life down” for exercising my right to the Freedom of Speech — right after September 11, 2001.

I was in a small space with many others, listening to my spiritual teacher via a satellite satsang. The talk was about the responsibility of each and every one of us to live within our own hearts, to always come from a place of love, and to remain focused on our own inner connection to the Divine … especially in a time such as then when everyone’s fears and anxieties had intensified a million-fold, and all we wanted to do was blame, or strike out, or focus on something else besides our own inner, and for me, hard-earned “bubble of optimism.”

As I close my eyes today, I can feel that sensation once again. Knowing that Yes, I am willing to die for expressing my belief that each and every person, regardless of their race, religion, or culture, has the right to know freedom. Because freedom is what we, as spiritual beings here in human form, have within our very own selves, our hearts, our own inner experience. No matter who we are, where we’re from, whom is doing what to us, or under what horrific hardship we happen to be subjected to — it is our life’s basic right to experience the unlimited freedom of Self Love.

As my heart fills with the knowledge of this fact, that I am willing to die to speak my truth, that I would take a bullet, or be incarcerated forever, or be chastised by others — to help spread the truth of who and what we are, spiritual beings in human form — ever speaking this truth, shouting it, whispering, writing, or arting about it wherever however I can, not letting naysayers shout me out or put me down. My role here, as spiritual activist, is to raise high the hope that we, all of us, will experience the Divine within our hearts on a moment to moment basis, even if we’re tortured, treated badly, thrown into prison, or are refugees, or haven’t got any food, home, or loved ones, shunned by fellow humans for whatever reason.

I knew that day, back in 2001, just as I know today — that Love is the only thing worth living for. And it’s worth dying for, too.

Love is another word for God. God has many other names to many other people. Some have a religion or a book to help them define this relationship between their humanity and the Divine spark within us all. I honor all people, all religions, all expressions of the Divine.

Yet I didn’t figure how angry people are, that day I decided to post the silly picture of Trump, with his weird grin and even weirder thumbs-up at such a weighty meeting as his and Kim Jong Un’s was in Singapore that week. That meeting came right after yet another political stink-bomb T threw at the Group of 7, a sore spot politicos were still smarting over right alongside the disturbing news of harsh treatment, unforgivable, and immoral and inhumane, about the ongoing refugee crisis, this time about children being separated from their parents. It’s only natural that people are disturbed about political events. I meant well, but I had forgotten that just because I don’t subscribe to the overall importance of politics, in comparison to developing a strong spiritual reality, that most people do. And the media only adds fuel to the fire of misinformation and sensationalism when it comes to political events, especially anything surrounding Trump’s administration.

Maybe I don’t get so disturbed by the next-and-next-yet political horror because I used to. When I was in my twenties I left America because I used to be so angry during the Vietnam crisis. I spent the entire seventies living in the most remote spot, far-from-war place I could find — the idyllic Caribbean islands. Where, surprise surprise, I found myself, ironically some might say, victim of a real dictator. Not just a fake-news one, or an imagined one, or a puppet one that a disgruntled political party is making claim to in wake of their losing the heated, close battle for America’s highest office of the land.

Maybe it’s because my life, back then, had been really terrorized, by grass-skirted young black men on this island I lived on — who had somehow decided that all white people should be killed … for no other reason than they were white and, in those misinformed young black West Indian men’s minds, all white people treated black people like wild animals. When my stateside friends thought I was crazy to stay on this island where so many whites had already been killed, I told them:

“I’m not worried. I treat each and every person equally, fairly, honorably. People can see this in the way I act, the words I use with them, and how I treat them and all others. Those people who were hacked by machetes in their homes had, reports say, treated the islanders condescendingly. It was told to me, in fact, by islanders I know personally, that they were mostly Canadian retirees who’d come to the ‘cheap and exotic Caribbean island’ to enjoy their golden years. Apparently, rumors said, the retired whites, living in their fancy homes, didn’t know how to treat a humbly born person other than as a personal slave.”

I was on this island in the Antilles working to help organize the peasant-style agriculturists (I use this word on purpose, to dignify their occupation of small-plot farmers). My business partner and I knew there was a terrible dictator at the time, one who didn’t want the farmers to be organized into regional co-ops, who didn’t insist on young children getting proper schooling, a shameful tragedy especially in light of the fact that this dictator named Patrick John, had himself once been a schoolteacher before he discovered the monetary rewards of “being the boss of the country.” He never enforced truancy, and when it came time for Dominica’s sham elections he’d pass out free, mind-altering white rum in every remote village and town street corner, getting the entire island-country as drunk as possible on the eve of the election. Thus he ensured his sweeping, ridiculously one-sided, brain-washed (with rum) win over the opposition party.

Eventually, it was the leader of this opposition party who, after two decades of steadfastly plotting the dictator’s downfall, took over the island’s political leadership, Miss Eugenia Charles, a neighbor of mine, and a business associate (her family’s estate grew lovely citrus and avocados and mangoes, as most land-owners on Dominica do) became internationally famous for several reasons:

  1. After dedicating her legal career to politically save her fellow citizens, returning to the Caribbean after earning a law school in London, she became the first democratically elected official of Dominica, after generations of depressing hardships and downtrodden conditions there: first as a neglected colony of the U.K.; then, decades of Patrick John’s iron rule.
  2. She was rumored to have been aware of the plot to overthrow her country’s newly elected winning party by mercenaries, hired by the ousted dictator Patrick John. The paid would-be invaders were apprehended by U.S. officials as they boarded a loaded-with-ammunition boat in New Orleans. Patrick John was convicted of heading the conspiracy, but saved from mandatory hanging (for treason) by Miss Charles, and jailed for years, in the same country where he once ruled with no regard for anyone else’s freedom.
  3. Most famously, Miss Eugenia was the woman standing by U.S. President Ronald Reagan’s side, seen on every American’s television when the announcement was made that U.S. Army troops had been forced to invade Grenada to suppress a Communist uprising after Miss Charles personally had made the trip to White House to inform Reagan about that island’s dire situation.
  4.  Lastly, and in my book, most importantly, she was one of the world’s first woman leaders of a democratically elected government. Having known Miss Charles personally, having shared cups of homegrown coffee with her and her elderly father on the outdoor porch of their neighboring estate to the one I rented while living in Dominica — I can attest to the fact that she too, like I am, was willing to die for what she believed in. And that was that every single human being has the right to live in freedom, no matter what their circumstances are.
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Don’t put yourself in a box … break FREE!!!

I feel blessed that my life has brought me the teachers, the experiences, the lessons that I have had. And now, with this latest lesson resulting from some unpleasant words, back-and-forthing on a dumbass FB post, getting some criticisms even from friends, some from acquaintances, it’s taken a perfect stranger’s intelligent question put forth to me that has prompted this LordFlea post about how it feels being called out about … “put your money where your mouth is.”

This Facebook “friend,” a stranger, a man whom, like many on my personal page, became connected through one of the various interests I have — meditation, Eastern mysticism, Vedic scriptural study, disciplines of yoga, documenting the Divine in art and literature, sharing inner and outer adventures, connecting with independent book authors, filmmakers, activists of all sorts — all of whom are people like myself. In order to reach out and find my “audience” for the work I do (including this blog! and now my two currently published books, with two more in the works for near-future publication) I must have, and appreciate the responsibility surrounding a public persona. My role as spiritual activist makes it absolutely necessary to have a social media presence.

This complete stranger (but as a FB friend, he’s a “friend” as well, and as a person, he’s of course my spiritual brother) asked me in this discussion: “But are you willing to give your life for what you believe and stand up for the rights of others who are not so fortunate as a white privileged person who lives in a bubble of optimism far from the pain and suffering of those not so fortunate?”

Perhaps this unknown friend does not think me worthy of posting my personal opinions about politics, without me offering some credentials. I have nothing personal against him. I think anybody would want to know “By What Authority Do You Have the Right to Speak?” … BUT … really … don’t we ALL have “the authority” to just speak what’s in our hearts? Without having to justify who we are, what we do, what color we are?

I wonder what you think about this? I’d love to hear your reaction to what I’ve shared today. I consider each and every person’s remark a worthy offering to this most important of discussions. Not about politics in specific, or even exercising the right of free speech, but …

WHAT AM I WILLING TO DIE FOR?

For me, I’ve known since that day so long ago, sitting listening to my spiritual teacher right after the attacks of 9/11, that Yes, I am willing to die to help my fellow beings, of all species, be free to experience the kingdom of God within their own heart. Even if they are in prison, even if they are unfortunately in a refugee camp, or worse, subject to an oppressive government at this very moment. Even if they are trapped within a narcissistic ego’s limited human existence. Even if they are experiencing a privileged white girl’s life in a what others might call “a bubble of optimism.”

I send my love and prayers of a fulfilled moment to each and every person who reads this. Please click on this link if you’d like to read my latest book, about girls in prison who learn to feel as free as a bird, right within their heavily guarded prison walls: “In the I: easing through Life-Storms.” is available as ebook, paperback, or audible (narrated by Yours Truly).

I love you! We are ONE!

teZa aka LordFlea

fill yourSelf with LOVE

The Bridge, our Opened Heart

Now we’ve raised our awareness up from what every person (with the exception of those in comas, or mentally challenged) is conscious of. A quick review of what “ordinary” people experience:

We ARE — 1st chakra, if we breathe we’re aware

We FEEL — 2nd chakra is knowing that our emotions are “signs” of consciousness, Watch Your Self!

We DO — the 3rd chakra, where our “gut” tells us what’s right, what’s wrong, doesn’t it?

And now … our consciousness has been elevated, and we’ve arrived at the Heart region, where …

We LOVE —

fill yourSelf with LOVE

fill yourSelf with LOVE

Love

Ahhh, the Mystery Itself.

This “Love” we’re talking about regarding “consciousness” isn’t romantic love, or love of nation, or loving your favorite sport or car or food. Or even what you love to do when you’re free from obligations. I’m capitalizing “Love” here because, what we’re discussing here in the purest, highest sense of what love means,. Our pure essence, like a newborn child’s, is what we’re referring to as “Love.” This is when our consciousness has risen up to the 4th chakra. “Love” is also what some call “God.” “The Mystery.” The Unknowable. The Ineffable. But, we are talking about it here, so I call it capital-L “Love.”

So … what does it mean, this word, love?

BE CONNECTED

Our Hearts Connected—energized, in Love and Light

The dictionary says love is about passion. Strong affection. Attachment. Enthusiasm. Devotion. Concern for the good of another. To hold dear. Cherish.

These are good words. But words are, unfortunately in many cases, fickle little blobs of ink on the page (or screen) that don’t quite hit the mark. So let me share my experience of when I first became aware of my Heart chakra opening instead. I’ll help explain “Love” by sharing. This is show not tell, by the way. Takes a few words, so be patient.

Before this experience, I thought I knew what “Love” was. But I didn’t. After this happened, I forever afterwards had a different relationship with “Love.” In ALL its many aspects (romantic, humankind-wise, Divine-wise, loving family, pet, ice cream, etc.)

I had just begun my journey on Planet Sober. Meaning, I was finally sober after decades of abusing substances. Coinciding with my swearing off the self-abuse that negative addiction really is, I had become a serious student of a wonderful spiritual teacher. “The teacher arrives when the student Is ready.” This is SO TRUE!

This teacher of mine believed in the ancient method of meditation for the principal way to connect to the highest state available to humankind. For me, I had to agree. If you want to know why, check out my earlier blog posts. After seeking “Highs” everywhere I could, drugs, alcohol, experiences, adventures galore — the highest high I discovered was … right within me, when I was in meditation. I experienced this early in life … but couldn’t stop partying till I was in my mid-thirties. I wasn’t ready yet. Having an opened heart … is a responsibility.

This teacher demonstrated how chanting the ancient names (mantras) of the Divine was the best way to still one’s busy mind, so deep meditation could more easily be achieved. I was just learning how to chant. And how I enjoyed it! Being in a hall surrounded by the forceful, moving power of hundreds, thousands of voices! It was ecstasy like I’d never experienced. And these names of God were …. new to me. Unintelligible, really. Because this was in the ancient language of Sanskrit that we chanted, and my mind had no pre-associations with the sounds, other than their vibrations of sound, going deeper deeper, so deeply into my heart.

Because … if you make a sound (try it) this is where you feel the resonance in your body. The chest cavity. Hold your hands over your heart, and make a long Ahhhhh sound. You’ll feel a reverberation there, as if your sternum was a long-vibrating drum you can feel by touching the outer skin. The heart region is where we vibrate when we sing, or make sustained, low-pitch sounds. Like a cat’s purring, our heart creates a all-consuming vibration through the sound we make with our vocal chords.

In the disciple (very ancient and in many cultures) of chanting, the heart gets stimulated like nothing else can. It feels like a prolonged warm massage, with each long breath-out sustaining a note, and each breath-in (to refill the lungs) allowing another resounding, making the chest cavity vibrate continuously, uninterruptedly. And when you’re surrounded by the sound of so many others, chanting all around you, a person can’t tell where your own sound ends and theirs begins, and visa versa.

spreading the Light...one person at a time

spreading the sound of LOVE, one person at a time

And so I found myself transported, out of usual “self” with the practice of chanting. I felt my very soul vibrating, in unison with countless others. I felt combined with the multitudes of voices all around me. We were separated; women with women; men with men. The reason for that wasn’t obvious at first; but later, I came to understand. Men and women’s voices have completely different vibrations. Men’s are lower, women’s are higher. When, at a later date, I happened to sit among men while doing this sustained chanting, I was affected by the masculine sound. It definitely put me in a different “mood.” I felt agitated. I felt … not balanced (and I’m a very “masculine” type of woman, or as Mick Jagger says, a “girl-boy-girl.”) The sound of voices affects us very strongly, I’m sure you all remember a tear or two that arises when a particular “sound” moves you emotionally.

The event of my heart-opening happened weeks after I’d given myself over to the practice of meditative chanting. No longer was I self-conscious. And because I sat among all women, I never thought about “how do I look, sound, feel about … him?” I was in my element. Safe. Secure. Surrounded with … others very similar to me. Same sex, that is. We also shared the same purpose, in our vocalizing activity. A thousand voices all combined. I could hear the men, too, but they were in a different part of the large hall. And their energy wasn’t challenging me, wasn’t … disrupting my ability to melt among those like me that surrounded me. I truly was part of a mass consciousness. We were merged and become, truly — ONE VOICE.

And then — it happened!

Without realizing what it was, I suddenly found myself stop making a sound,because the energy coming from my heart was so … so …. Overpowering. So Strong! It felt exactly like there was a rusty old iron gate that had been shut tightly over my heart-cavity, for maybe a thousands years. It had been frozen shut, just like oxidized iron does. And now … it was being forced and pried …. OPEN … by invisible hands. Slowly, sweetly but yes, painfully because my heart had been stuck SHUT for eons. It felt as if the hands of God were reaching into my deep inner self and taking His/Her/Its two hands to pry open that rusty gate-heart of mine, ever so slowly. First, with jerking motions, this force; then more, more, more forcefullyl — then — my Heart chakra POPPED wide open! Suddenly. Painlessly. Wide wide wide open. Like floodgates suddenly thrown wide.

Forevermore.

close-hearted folks, i call "rock people"

before, my closed-heart felt like I was a “rock person”

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then — I joined the open-minded, open-hearted ones

I was stunned. Love consumed me. I became Love. I was … no longer “me.” Instantly I felt enveloped with the purest sensation I’d ever felt. This Love had no name or personality, or motive, or object or “any thing” attached to it. This Love I was …. is All there is. From that moment, until Now.

Love filled my mind with white diamond light. My body melted and I watched myself becoming this ever-expanding love. The warmth and fullness of my chest spread everywhere. I was one ball of a wholesome, loving heart. Was I chanting anymore? Probably not. Was I pure Love itself, me? Yes. Without a doubt. I can attest that I had become Love itself.

the Tipping Point

join me, in the Army of Love!

Now this may seem dramatic and surreal. But this is what happened to me. Maybe it’s because the situation was perfect, and the teacher was perfect, and the sounds of chanting set off a vibration, a trigger within me. Who knows? Who cares? An ephiphany aha-thing happened. One I’d been waiting my entire life for this event to happen.

So, my friends, this is what I mean by the Love that emanates from our 4th chakra. We get glimpses of it, here and there. When we’re doing something that raises our energies. When we’re with people that promote our higher understanding. And in innumerable other ways. We always know when we’re in our heart-chakra energy. We feel … indescribably wonderful.

This object-less Love is all-consuming. It might be call unconditional love. It might be called pure compassion. But whatever it is, believe me, you want it! And you can develop it by … chanting, yes. But also by meditating. And … most importantly. Not letting negative thoughts (people, places, things, etc.) exist in your consciousness.

When you are aware of the negative thoughts, then you are also able to say, “I choose not to let those negative things exist within me.” This starts when you become aware of your feelings (the 2nd chakra). But it really kicks in, big time, when your consciousness has risen up to the 4th chakra, and you choose to allow the heart-vibrating energy to … STAY there.

we all have CHOICES

Our CHOICES determine us being happy or unhapppy

For our consciousness to rise up, expand, we have to do self-inquiry. This is work, I won’t lie. The seeker must be aware of our thoughts, and guard the precious gift of awareness— with our life if we have to! You have to say “good bye” to all your negative friends, habits, tendencies if you wish to know the heights of life’s greatest opportunities.

This is the tough part. Violence. Once your heart has been opened, you’ll be so happy you’ll never want to go back the the “old you.” You’ll want to cultivate that open-heart you. Believe me. It will be so obvious when you sink back into your old ways, habits, customs. It’s only human, so don’t beat yourself up. Just be patient with yourself. When you suddenly “feel” bad, choose to stop doing whatever it is that causes it. Just stop. It’s that easy. You’ve just “spotted” that you’ve gone backwards. What to do? Not beat yourself up, that’s for sure. Just shake your shoulders, stand up tall, and take one tiny step forward again. Now you’re back on the path to enlightenment. Yaza Yaza. Easy!

Again, choose to realign your awareness with that open-heart of yours. And choose to not allow yourself to “go back” if you can help it. And when you do, again (you will!) take another deep breath, and re-commit to living in Love. It’s that simple. Just shake your head and tell the “bad demons” that live within us all, to BEHAVE. And be still. Watch your breath. Those inner demons will leave you alone. Because now you are focusing on your breath. You’re on the bridge from lower to higher, better you. Or use your mantra to still those demons. Or … read some inspiring words. Or … hang out with more positive people. Or … read more Lord Flea. Yaza yaza.

I hope this helps. Enjoy our journey together, discovering how consciousness is raised, elevated, cultured. Please tell me your experience with the opening of your heart. Leave a comment here, or write me: dearLordFlea@gmail.com

And remember, I love you!

your pal, lordFlea, aka teZa Lord

Staring at my feet

Friends,

the importance of what i spend my time doing the most of has been central in my thinking of late. y’know: you are what you eat, and you certainly become what you think. that’s why i haven’t been bloggin’ as of late. wanted to keep centered in my heart, and not just spew, at least for the sake of spewing.

i do this occasionally. withdraw and feel life living me, instead of trying to be so active, so concerned, so consumed with “other” that i forget this experience of life itself. here’s another way of looking at it:

the interconnectedness of All

the interconnectedness of All

all i have is my self, and my Self–the little me that squirms with responsibilities and worries, and the big Me that knows there is more to this life than i’ll ever know…and to feel the majesty, the magic, the wonder of it all is more than enough for me to be concerned about. certainly enough upon which to base my creative energies’ pursuits–my arting, as i call it, whether i paint, draw, make a garden, a cake, or sew a sail, write a book–or blog.

this feeling of being connected to all came to me as a child. then i lost it. then i rediscovered it later, mostly through working on getting rid of the garbage that my mind collected over the years. now i have trained myself to stay as much as possible in that simple place, that inner place, where the breath connects with even the movement of faraway galaxies, and the knowledge, the Truth of feeling connected is real–this is my daily experience.

the drawing i use as an example shows us all in our “Higher Self”… our so-called “angelic” bodies…that part of our nature that is connected to the Highest good for all. yes–we all have that in our nature, whether you are aware of it or not, whether you exercise that birthright, that ownership of your highest nature, or not.

living in the moment; accepting our sacredness, our divine nature–our Higher Self: this is the way of living i want to share with you, not because of any other reason but my humble offering to help make the world a better place to live in.

we are not all just scrambling around trying to get something to eat, or make happen, or elect, or conquer, or succeed, or even be good at. but yes, we all exisit as individual cells within the larger “thing” that makes up this known reality…what is called the Universe (and some call, simply, “God”).

we're all a part of a whole

we are all One, breathe, and feel: Truth

many other things have passed my mind, and of course i’ve been doing many (many!) other things since my last entry here. don’t worry. some of you who read my blog might think i’m just a holy-roller who only sits around contemplating my navel. but no—-i have a family, a job, lots of social duties, and creatively i’m consumed by writing a nonfiction narrative, illustrated, naturally, which i am debating about uploading here, so i can let you, friends on my web, read as i write, day by day. but…i haven’t decided to or not. ha ha! all i can say for now is…writing this book is certainly my immediate, and main creative focus, not this blog.

my garden has been covered with an entire truckload of mulch, delivered free by a tree-man who took down a big One over at my mother’s place. Carter and i’ve been doing lots of HOT HOT yoga, in our little yoga shed, which i call the santosa shack (santosa being contentment in Sanskrit). we chant, we meditate, we even attend his church, ahhweeee, diversity in God-liness! lots of cooking (made dosas twice this past couple weeks…a lentil and rice fermented east Indian flat bread, terribly exotic tasting, and terribly nutritious because of the legume and grain mixture). what else? oh so much biking, hiking, rehabing my knee, still injured from dancing too fiercely at daughter’s wedding way back in June. injuries take energy. life takes care. time is precious. do i use it wisely? i try to. when i lay my head down on my pillow, i feel rewarded by deep, comforting, beautiful sleep. what a gift, life is.

i will do a page next, i promise, on a subject i’ve been thinking a lot about: what to say to someone who is really, truly, either physically, spiritually, or mentally suffering.  because recently i ran into an old acquaintance, who has all the world at her feet: she’s rich, successful, socially powerful and consciously humanitarian beyond measure—but—she’s absolutely miserable.  the only outer proof, however, is that of her uncontrollable, mind-numbing, self-pitying drinking.  of course she’s in denial about having a drinking problem. and i simply can’t share with her my own experience in that matter (being in alcohol and drug addiction recovery now for my third decade)…but i can post a page here. perhaps one day a chink will open in her tightly-bricked-up facade, and what a person formerly-miserable (me) has to share with another who still is (her), will make a difference.

a little light in the well of darkness, that’s all i attempt to do…with my art, with my words, and now with this public web-spew.

so look on the right hand side in a day or say and you’ll see a new page. those pages stay up, where this post side changes when i enter a new one.

whew! i finally figured that out! now, if only i can find my beautiful color paintings. let me see, let me try again. a treat for you, perhaps?

plants, animals, mineral--we are all One

plants, animals, mineral--we are all One

i love each and every one of you, truly! lord flea

It’s a NEW DAY!! One filled with HOPE!!

hi friends,

congratulations President Obama!!!

congrats Barack--shine on us, man

congrats Barack--shine on us, man

in the Light, lordflea