World Peace

Something woke me up all last week in my sleep, every night, same time for five days. "Everyone's fighting! Put a stop to it as soon as you can!" A short anxiety attack followed with the image of overly crowded streets and despair. Nothing had color. When morning came, I shrugged it off as too tall of an order, only to realize it had become a whisper that wouldn't be quiet. It's tempting to write about India. I'd like to mention prejudice and hate, letting the keys fly under my fingers. Instead, I keep thinking about the prayer flags at Barbara's store. They're part of a Buddhist exhibition on loan. The monks will write prayer requests on these pieces of cloth that are then strung together and tied to a tree which will flap in the wind until they decay. Each square cloth is dyed with brilliant colors. Oranges, reds, yellow and greens, beautiful and so full of hope. The first step to peace is a written intention that is offered in prayer.
Driving home, I noticed the sun was shining on the side of a person's tire in front of me,creating a super cool shadow under their car. It was of a wheel spinning with flowers in the center. What a sign. The second step to peace is Source energy (God) reflecting inside of us to be projected out. So your choice of words and breath are very important if you are to create something of beauty.
If you ever watch the video on Earth Hour, they show a person complaining about the job being too big. How can they make a change? Then they add one more person saying the same thing until there are thousands screaming in unison, "I'm only one person!" Let's try kindness and see how we can change the world. First in ourselves, our pets, our families, our friends, our neighbors and then the strangers. Slowly I know, but that's the beauty of being ONE.

Judson Laipply/The Evolution of Dance

You can find the funniest things on youtube! You can learn from youtube, you can even be on youtube! I was for three seconds once singing a terrible campfire song with my daughter who taped us without my knowledge. We looked like we had drank several beers. It was so embarrassing! I have my favorites and get them confused sometimes, well, like today. Wendy invited Judson Laipply to be a guest on Conscious Living. He's the guy who can dance, reeally dance and you'll laugh every time you watch him. (www.EvolutionofDance.com)
The problem I find with a thirty minute podcast are the words in the beginning, "recorded live". Something about those two simple words can train wreck me, not to mention working with a pro such as Wendy Garrett with the voice of seasoned broadcaster! Imagine the horror of asking Judson how in the heck he managed to travel the world doing a gig, who financed that? With the grace of the motivational speaker that he is, he answered, "oh! you're talking about my friend Matt, yes, Wrigley's gum sponsored him." (http://youtube.com/watch?v=zlfKdbWwruY)
But there are no "do-overs" for me with this personal gig and no chicken door to exit. The only thing to do was to laugh and enjoy the rest of the show! Judson was such a dear and I found myself jealous that he hadn't been my prom date. Please check him out and that other guy too!

Full Moon Sunday

Everything speaks at once on Sunday. Past, present and future compete for my attention. The big house with orange gates and red tiled floors is the weekly nightmare. It's a place from the past that holds my love. Where photographers came to capture the moments of family together, cousins running up and down the stairs and wonderful chaos. Who would have ever thought it could all be sucked up and shoved in my head? Every sound, every color and smell. With the snap of a finger, it was gone. Grandparents have died and now the house belongs to someone else. It's hard to share, but then all of a sudden, I hear the sound of the heavy wrought iron gate shutting in my ear and present has arrived. It wakes me up with possibility. My heart knows it's the place to be where joy can be found. Things seem perfect here, sadness has a hard time getting in. But there's a little shadow of past trying to talk to me. I jump to future in an instant. Future is a he. He whispers in pieces, "write it down, add a leaf, no, here, use clay, what about colored glass and hand made beads?" He always talks too fast which gets us both over the edge excited! Pregnant with the energy of "full moon Sunday" will bring me home to gratitude where I will reunite with present and remember the words I learned from past, "on the seventh day, God rested." I become still and am now.

Today

Today is done. I have no idea if anything was accomplished but the wind wasn't as strong and I still found trash in the yard. Sitting in my mother's house this afternoon with her seven good friends, sharing food and laughter made me feel guilty. Guilty that I'm the only daughter who has managed a monthly invitation, guilty that my youngest was home alone, taking a day break from college and guilty that phone calls weren't returned. I am drawn to these women who have worked years side by side with each other in the school kitchens. Drawn to their complaints about the price of oil and wheat and who has the best coupons in town. They speak of recipes like you would describe an ancient artifact. Garage sales keep them together like glue and they aren't interested in New Age anything. Set in their inherited religions makes them appealing to me. From a distance, if you didn't love them, they'd be old, but these gatherings have brought out their pretty shaped lips, their bright eyes and colorful smiles. We tell many jokes and I notice all of the laugh lines we share.
The drive home was busy with Friday rush hour, but Manheim Steamroller is playing on the radio and my spirit is satisfied. Our conversation replays in my head. Agnes used to collect those awful looking plastic trolls when she was alive. They were everywhere, on shelves, in the kitchen and in her bedroom. Poor Orville, he hated them! Threatened to get rid of them. How they fought every day of their lives, but when Agnes died, the kids wanted to help their dad and get rid of the trolls. NO! He wouldn't have it. Suddenly, Orville is the "gatekeeper" of the trolls. I am laughing and almost missed my turn. Ruthie had mentioned during chocolate cake, "when you die, you suddenly get sainted! Yes you do! Death will make us holier, you wait!"
I pull into the drive way to be greeted with a "what took you so long, I need to get back to campus!" My company is a different generation now. The conversation has changed to boys. With kisses and hugs, I remind my daughter of the dangers of parties and an empty stomach. Her Chihuahua bark doesn't bother me in the least, because someday, I know she'll "saint me". I just hope they don't call me, "my mother the Troll"!

Dr. Rita Louise/Medical Intuitive

You could have heard a pin drop when Forest told my relatives that he had stopped taking his medicine. "But you're a diabetic!"someone shouted. "No, not any more," he said. "I quit eating so much late at night and I lost fifty pounds so the doctor took me off the medicine." He had taken his health into his own hands by making a few changes. Too many people are overly medicated. Still, I love doctors. I loved them when they pieced my friend back together after her car accident, I loved them when they delivered my children and I loved them when they sewed my husband's fingers back onto his hand after an accident. But there is a fine line that we shouldn't cross and that is to pop a pill for every ailment. What if you could get to the source of your disease by tapping into your emotional thought patterns first? Billions of dollars per year are now being spent on alternative medicine.



Dr.Rita Louise (http://www.soulhealer.com/) is one of many gifted medical intuitives who are working with people to bring the body, mind and spirit into balance. You can listen to the interview on Conscious Living (http://www.talkshoe.com/) She spoke about the damaging affect of fear on our bodies. Rigid thinking can cause problems in the neck and jaw area.

Fear is the thief of our dreams...

I remember getting a terrible sore throat and losing my voice after I had agreed to have an open house with someone I didn't get along with. Or accidentally cutting my thumb after having said yes to everyone. (the thumb in palm reading shows our flexibility and amount of kindness)

Cutting it was a wakeup call to say no more often. Listen to your heart and may you live a healthy, wealthy and wise life!

More Than Dust

The statue of Virgin Mary in the corner of St. Paul's Catholic church always caught my attention. Her eyes had a wisdom I wanted to know. Faithfully, every year I stood in line to have a cross drawn on my forehead in ashes while the priest said, "remember man that thou art dust and unto dust thou shall return." Woah! Mary's eyes looked like they rolled up. That sentence stayed with me throughout dinner like a favorite song but not because I liked it. In those days, death was something we didn't talk about which meant many of us kept secrets. Bringing up messages from dead relatives through dreams was hush hushed. "Don't make waves," was something I heard often. That was then and this is now.

Wendy and I had the pleasure of speaking to Betty J. Kovacs, Ph.D and author of "The Miracle of Death". http://www.atlasbooks.com/marktplc/00902.htm Her story of losing her mother, husband and only child would make some people cry rivers,but her book is a love story and an inspiration of hope. She spoke of the dreams her son had of his own death. Will I know when it's my turn to leave? I don't know but I am sure we are more than dust in the wind.
http://www.talkshoe.com/talkshoe/web/talkCast.jsp?masterID=11638&cmd=tc

Too many people are speaking up now about their dreams. When a family friend died at the tender age of twenty three, I was only comforted by the fact that he had visited my son in a dream the night of his death, thanking him for being such a good friend. Four weeks later, he came to me in a dream, telling me of his new job in the "afterlife." There was so much excitement in his voice and he honored me by telling me "they" were proud of my work here. We never told his family, I'm not sure how I would. Such a personal thing, this journey we call death.

Getting High on Food

The next time you hear someone say, "man, her poop don't stink!" you can assume the odorless person is on a raw food diet with no additives in her blood. You could also say she's alkaline and Ron Garner, author of "Conscious Health" would agree. His book will help you choose natural solutions for optimum health and lifelong vitality.
www.namastepublishing.com/garner.asp
I was raised by a healthy mom. We ate breakfast everyday and sat together every evening eating another meal that was always made from scratch. Nothing from a box or a can! Garden vegetables nourished us through winter. When the weather was warm, we drove to the lake and everyone walked. Much was done with our feet in those days. The only over weight person we knew was on a t.v. show called, "HeeHaw". Nowadays, being over weight seems to be normal.

With the media, Oprah and her friend Dr. Oz, most of us know what not to eat. (white flour, sugar, caffeine, colas, processed foods). But! did you know, eating raw vegetables and fruits will raise your vibration to the point that things will come easily for you? Manifestation of dreams are in alignment for you. Looking back, there were four oranges in my fridge that looked like they were on their last days, so I ate them. Yes, all of them. It was followed later by an entire container of spinach and chopped carrots. Ah, what the heck, might as well eat those two bananas that are getting ripe. While eating, I'm thinking, "I should have bought that bird cage. I'd LOVE to have one in the garden. Hum? I'll put my chipped china bowls that I keep on a tray full of birdseed in the cage. Dylan would get a kick out of that."

Evening came and I drove to the local juice bar. Wheat grass shots were buy two get one free, so I drank three. (blah) One shot is equivalent to two pounds of vegetables if you can tolerate the horrific taste. My cells were alive, the car radio was loud. "I need a black purse to go with my new black boots," I thought on the drive home. Three houses down from mine were two bird cages in the neighbor's trash! (I will post pictures later) My friend Mary came over and shoved her black purse into my arms. Seems she didn't like that it had two handles instead of one so she was offering me her purse. Such a shame to let it go to waste she said.

I don't write to brag, just to tell the story so that you can live a more productive life. Your skin will glow, blood pressure gets lowered and you manifest easily. Who can ask for more?

2008 Election Day

The big purple candle got lit today along with three wicks of incense and placed outside in the wishing corner. This day seemed like it would never come. Contemplating hateful emails and jokes about the candidates made me think of Charlie Toplikar. He and I were running candidates for the mock election in fifth grade. Nothing stuck in my mind about the election process, only that there were more boys than girls which meant Charlie would be an easy win.

Oh, I digress. I voted today at 2:24 p.m. on a very windy day that should have blown out my candle. The temperature was 69 degrees and the Halloween pumpkin was still sitting in the lawn. We got teased for having so many Jorgensens voting this year, seven of us, with the last voter still needing a ride an hour away.

How do you write a little tid bit about something so historical? Mention the fact that I ate roasted potatoes and peas for lunch with sliced apples, or that I was in a beautiful hotel last month in a dream with ivory roses and crystal. I walked the narrow corridor to the main floor and there were people congratulating Barack Obama for winning the election. I like them both in many ways, but can only pick one. Picking sides and fighting doesn't suit my vibe. We all want what is best and I do believe McCain and Obama have only the best intentions in mind.

As far as Charlie Toplikar goes, I won! When I was in fifth grade, boys were still kind of wierd. They did interest me enough to wonder why they liked Karla so much. The girls were elated by my surprise win which meant one of the boys voted for me. I never found out who the secret voter was and the girls never found out it was actually two boys who had voted for me because I voted for Charlie. God bless America, land that I love.

Dead People

Kenny buried his dad today. Too many years have passed between us, so I missed the visitation. The obituary said he passed on Tuesday, the same day I was with my aunt at the pain center. A man walked through the door with his wife who needed therapy for her back. He sat in the cold waiting room with me, reading the newspaper. I couldn't help but notice how much he looked like Kenny's dad. This was the second man that day who had reminded me of Mr.G. I took my aunt home and never gave the coincidence another thought until I read the obituary.

Death reports itself differently for everyone but always connects first with a whisper. When my sixth sense was taking baby steps, a woman told me not to question but to simply pray. Pray for the person you were seeing in your mind's eye and to leave it alone. I like that.

Just this Saturday, Jody, an old high school friend dropped into my living room to tell me everything was fine, not to worry and that all charges would be dropped. When she was alive, she worked with prisoners and had a passion for helping the needy. I thanked her but she was gone as quickly as she had come. Goose bumps chilled my legs. My husband at that moment was driving to pickup our son who had been attacked in a parking lot the night before. We had worried in agony about his whereabouts, finally getting a call that he was in jail.

So don't be too scared of dead people. I'm getting more used to them!