Anything is Possible!

With Faith, Hope and Perseverance

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Can We All Agree on Twinkly Lights, or Nah?

I love twinkly lights and everything about Christmas except the over-commercialization that makes people spend more money than they can afford. That’s ridiculous! 🙂 I love the yuley pictures and the humor and the love of Joey’s post. As a Christian, I too find it “hard to love people who tell (anyone) you’re gonna burn in Hell for eternity…” I’ll do my best to love them anyway because its the right thing go do. But I might have to love some of them from a distance.

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The reason for my season is basic astronomy, although your reason may be equally valid and special, who am I to say?

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It’s Yule now. Have a blessed one. Light your candles and burn your wood and fire up your stove for somethin yummy. Love and light, love and light, love and light…

It’s not reactionary or revolutionary, it’s just a good day to honor light and warmth because it’s the shortest day of the year.

It’s also the time of year when people like to search their hearts and share their religious fervor by blasting everyone with “Jesus is the Reason for the Season!” which is exactly the sorta thing that sends me into red flag mode, but I’m not at war with Christmas so I don’t summon Odin to horse-trample those people, I simply nod and smile, because that’s the safe thing to do when you’re dealing with people who send you into…

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Opening Doors

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It had been a year or more since my last acupuncture session. It gives me good energy and made a headache go away once, but nothing especially dramatic. In October, I ran into the healer at a potluck. I’ve known her for years as a casual friend but had never had an acupuncture session with her until last week – after my body told me to make an appointment. But this was not a typical session. I must have been ready. The time was right. This was my experience:

November 10, 2016,

two days after the sky fell,

Interrupted cries still lingered in my solar plexus

like mucus bogging down muffled screams

waiting to be flushed free.

Then the drunk guy threw a key at me

when I was only trying to help.

Who needs this?

But that cop wasn’t following  me after all

as I pulled into the space

to visit the healer with magic hands

and the skill to find the stuck places.

She began with my old friend,

Lavender,

to settle my nerves.

The first needle only hurt for a moment

as the door opened and sparks flew.

The others didn’t hurt at all.

When qi started to flow,

I almost giggled

then followed her humming

with my own breath –

Inhale, sooooew. Exhale, Haaaaaah,

like the song of the ocean.

Cardamom opened the doors wider.

Right after I turned over onto my back

is when it happened.

My cold hands finally got warm.

Then, I started to cry. And laugh. And cry.

Mama. Mama? Mama!

Is it really you?

Hold me, Mama.

My fingers can’t reach you!

Daddy is hurting. He misses you so much.

You want me to tell him you’re okay?

Mama’s okay, Daddy.

She’s okay.

Tears.

But wait.

Am I supposed to be

learning how to talk to other ghosts?

Or just my own?

Sandalwood brought me back.

Shaking, I drank from the cup of water

and called my father to give him the message

he already knew.

_________________________________________

My mother died November 14, 2008. She collected angels. Dozens of them still decorate my father’s house. He hasn’t moved any of them. And he won’t move out of that house because he feels her presence there.

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Angels Among Us, a mural by JoAnne Silvia


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Remember Who You Are

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I was going to write about remembering how I used to draw pictures of horses and dogs when I was barely 10 years old. I loved art in high school. I always had some talent for drawing and painting.

But before I actually started writing, I remembered something from the movie The Lion King.

I hadn’t seen that scene in many years, since children lived in this house, and just now when I watched it, I saw parallels with God telling Jesus, he is the one true king. I know Jesus wasn’t always crazy about being the king. He got tired. Don’t know if this parallel was intended or if it’s just one of those archetype things. Not just, because archetypes are a big deal. The archetype of coming home, if that is an archetype, is one I’m doing as I come back to art.

Today, I’m taking my paintings and prints to our church’s Holiday Artisan Fair. I’ve been painting angels mostly. My mom loves this, even though I can’t see her physically cause she has passed on. OMG, like Mufasa! (except she’s a wispy angel with a soft voice) Because I can feel her sometimes. I’m working on a post about that for next week, so stay tuned (or come back around Thursday.)

But anyway, remembering who I am, is coming home to art after a long, long time of not doing much art. And I’m also writing a memoir about finding my soulmate after a long, long time of being confused, or rather working on me to get ready. You can read more about that on my Work in Progress Page, and the art on My Art page.

Here’s my latest painting done on a piece of scrap wood, my favorite canvas.

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Angel of the Waves by JoAnne Silvia

Is there something you used to enjoy, maybe a long time ago, that you want to get back to? Or something you’ve always dreamed of doing? What step might you take in that direction?

PS. Mom says she’s not that wispy.

Linda’s prompt for today’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday post was:

“mem”

Go see what it’s all about at Linda Hill’s “Life in Progress”

https://lindaghill.com/2016/11/11/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-nov-1216/

Here are the SoCS rules:

1. Your post must be stream of consciousness writing, meaning no editing, (typos can be fixed) and minimal planning on what you’re going to write.

2. Your post can be as long or as short as you want it to be. One sentence – one thousand words. Fact, fiction, poetry – it doesn’t matter. Just let the words carry you along until you’re ready to stop.

3. There will be a prompt every week. I will post the prompt here on my blog on Friday, along with a reminder for you to join in. The prompt will be one random thing, but it will not be a subject. For instance, I will not say “Write about dogs”; the prompt will be more like, “Make your first sentence a question,” “Begin with the word ‘The’,” or simply a single word to get your started.

4. Ping back! It’s important, so that I and other people can come and read your post! For example, in your post you can write “This post is part of SoCS:” and then copy and paste the URL found in your address bar at the top of this post into yours.  Your link will show up in my comments for everyone to see. The most recent pingbacks will be found at the top. NOTE: Pingbacks only work from WordPress sites. If you’re self-hosted or are participating from another host, such as Blogger, please leave a link to your post in the comments below.

5. Read at least one other person’s blog who has linked back their post. Even better, read everyone’s! If you’re the first person to link back, you can check back later, or go to the previous week, by following my category, “Stream of Consciousness Saturday,” which you’ll find right below the “Like” button on my post.

6. Copy and paste the rules (if you’d like to) in your post. The more people who join in, the more new bloggers you’ll meet and the bigger your community will get!

7. As a suggestion, tag your post “SoCS” and/or “#SoCS” for more exposure and more views.

8. Have fun!

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Awesome Stories 288

Sharing some interesting “Awesome Stories” collected by Brad at Writing to Freedom. The question about whether we’re born good, bad, or as blank slates has been coming up for me a lot over the past couple of years as some (not all) of my Christian friends believe we are born with “a sinful nature.” That just doesn’t feel right to me. I adopted the blank slate belief in college, but it’s certainly possible that we’re born with preferences those who will treat us well and protect us.

writing to freedom

This week Awesome Stories brings you baby morality, junk food, magical living and Little Pantries.

Born Good?

This is a fun video commercial created by the Canadian group called People for Good to show how silly it is to label babies as good or bad. Further, they believe, as I do, that we are born good. Watch this fun reminder that we’re all born good and it’s never too late to be good!

The second video takes a more serious look at the same question by studying the behavior of babies. Dr. Karen Wynn is in charge of the Baby Lab at the Yale University Infant Cognition Center. Their studies seem to demonstrate a universal moral core and innate sense of justice in all babies, even from a very young age. What do you think? Are we born good or are some people born bad?

Real Junk Food

There are…

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Burial Mounds on the Natchez Trace

 

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A song unheard by my ears

Called to my being

and invited me closer.

My friends would wait

As I walked toward the mounds

through itchy grass

wondering what bugs I might disturb

To nibble my ankles

And thinking sneakers

would have been better than sandals.

But I had not known the song would call me.

 

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They told me it was okay

not to come all the way

Because I was close enough

To feel the song.

They met me halfway

And I felt the energy of their spirits

 like a soft breeze

that raised the hair on my arms

yet the air was still.

 I danced to the spirit song

unheard by my ears

And for a moment,

I was free of the world.

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∞ ∞ ∞

 

As I was about to leave the site of the Pharr Mounds, I spied a dragon fly:

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It did not fly away as we got close, and I wondered if it was injured

or just reminding me to be still.

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Then, as we headed to the car, I found a single butterfly wing in the parking lot.

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A gift to help me remember my freedom.

 

My visit to the Pharr Mounds showed me that I do not have to work so hard to receive gifts. As our bodies slow, our awareness grows, and our spirits are more easily lifted.

I only saw a small portion of the Natchez Trace.  Just enough to wet my appetite. Next time, I’ll bring sneakers.


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Better Than Drugs

Stars from pixabay

The moon has yet to rise.

In the darkness,

Ocean’s horizon blends with sky.

 Her white crests rolling  into the sand,

Just a murmur tonight

Rising now and then

To remind us of her power.

When I gaze at the stars,

I get the feeling there is more.

Much more.

 I am overwhelmed by the distance.

My senses try to adjust

To something foreign

Yet, intimate.

The vastness of ocean

pales compared to the sky dome.

The Universe whispers,

“This is not a sky dome.”

I reach up to touch the Milky Way.

My finger floats above my head

Feeling lost at first.

But there is energy in the air

Where the ocean meets the sky.

I can’t touch it like I touch your face.

But I can feel it’s energy. His energy. Her energy.

Not just in my finger,

In my whole body

and more

Expanding all around me.

Reaching back to me.

Shouting to me from eternity,

“Yes! I’m here!”

“We are here!”

As I reach up to touch the sky.

Better than drugs.

© JoAnne Silvia, 2016. Only use with credit to the author.

(The image is from pixabay. It’s more vivid than what I saw last week from the beach. But I did see wisps of Milky Way smiling at me.)


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Neurotransmitter

I believe there is good in everybody. Sometimes the goodness is a golden nugget buried under a ton of fear. If digging for good hurts too much, it’s okay to stop and take care of yourself so your own good still shines. Maybe it will light the way.

Behind the White Coat


You make me feel pain. You help me remember. You move me from here to there. You control my reflexes. You arouse me. You put me to sleep. You make my heart race and then make it slow down. You even help me to see more clearly.

You can do so very many things to this body of mine.

But…. you cannot make me hate.

I choose to believe there is good in everyone but before you decide that I am some wonderful, loving human being you should know that I choose to believe this for very selfish reasons. I choose to believe it because I want to believe there is good in me and I choose to believe it because it helps me find peace when dealing with difficult people in my life.

When faced with these people, I take a step back and ask myself what is their…

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